After
Washing Your Hands, You Sit Down, Throw An Embroidered Napkin Over Your
Knees, And With A “Bismillah,” By Way
Of grace, plunge your hand into the
attractive dish, changing ad libitum, occasionally sucking your
finger-tips as boys do
Lollipops, and varying that diversion by
cramming a chosen morsel into a friend’s mouth. When your hunger is
satisfied, you do not sit for your companions; you exclaim “Al Hamd!” edge
away from the tray, wash your hands and mouth with soap, display signs
of repletion, otherwise you will be pressed to eat more, seize your
pipe, sip your coffee, and take your “Kayf.” Nor is it customary, in these
lands, to sit together after dinner—the evening prayer cuts short the
seance. Before we rose to take leave of Ali bin Ya Sin, a boy ran into
the room, and displayed those infantine civilities which in the East
are equivalent to begging a present. I slipped a dollar into his hand;
at the sight of which he, veritable little Meccan, could not contain
his joy. “The Riyal!” he exclaimed; “the Riyal! look, grandpa’, the good
Effendi has given me a Riyal!” The old gentleman’s eyes twinkled with
emotion: he saw how easily the coin had slipped from my fingers, and he
fondly hoped that he had not seen the last piece. “Verily thou art a good
[p.258] young man!” he ejaculated, adding fervently, as prayers cost
nothing, “May Allah further all thy desires.” A gentle patting of the back
evidenced his high approval.
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