The Ceiling Is Of Date-Sticks Laid Across Palm-Rafters Stained Red, And The Walls Are Of Rough Scoriae, Burnt Bricks, And Wood-Work Cemented With Lime.

The only signs of furniture in the sitting-room are a Diwan[FN#15] round the sides and a carpet in the centre.

A

[p.296] huge wooden box, like a seaman's chest, occupies one of the corners. In the southern wall there is a Suffah, or little shelf of common stone, sunk under a single arch; upon this are placed articles in hourly use, perfume-bottles, coffee-cups, a stray book or two, and sometimes a turband, to be out of the children's way. Two hooks on the western wall, hung jealously high up, hold a pair of pistols with handsome crimson cords and tassels, and half a dozen cherry-stick pipes. The centre of the room is never without one or more Shishas[FN#16] (water pipes), and in the corner is a large copper brazier containing fire, with all the utensils for making coffee either disposed upon its broad brim or lying about the floor. The passage, like the stairs, is spread over with hard black earth, and is regularly watered twice a day during the hot weather.

The household consisted of Hamid's mother, wife, some nephews and nieces, small children who ran about in a half-wild and more than half-nude state, and two African slave girls. When the Damascus Caravan came

[p.297] in, it was further reinforced by the arrival of his three younger brothers.

Though the house was not grand, it was made lively by the varied views out of the Majlis' windows. From the East, you looked upon the square Al-Barr, the town walls and houses beyond it, the Egyptian gate, the lofty minarets of the Harim, and the distant outlines of Jabal Ohod.[FN#17] The north commanded a prospect of Mohammed's Mosque, one of the Khamsah Masajid,[FN#18] or the five suburban Mosques[FN#19]; of part of the fort-wall; and, when the Damascus Caravan came in, of the gay scene of the "Prado" beneath. The Majlis was tolerably cool during the early part of the day: in the afternoon the sun shone fiercely upon it. I have described the establishment at some length as a specimen of how the middle classes are lodged at Al-Madinah. The upper ranks affect Turkish and Egyptian luxuries in their homes, as I had an opportunity of seeing at Omar Effendi's house in the "Barr;" and in these countries the abodes of the poor are everywhere very similar.

Our life in Shaykh Hamid's house was quiet, but not disagreeable. I never once set eyes upon the face of woman, unless the African slave girls be allowed the title. Even these at first attempted to draw their ragged veils over their sable charms, and would not answer the simplest question; by degrees they allowed me to see them, and they ventured their voices to reply to me; still they never threw off a certain appearance of shame.[FN#20]

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