THE MOSQUE AT CAIRO.
You stare at them in a puzzled way a minute or so, and then declare, "What a stuffy arrangement! I'm not going to sleep shut in like that!"
"Please yourself, but you run the risk of having red lumps on your nose in the morning if a mosquito takes a fancy to you!"
"Oh, they're mosquito-curtains! I've heard of them. What are you going to do?"
"Run no risks!"
At last, protesting, you agree to do likewise, and climb inside your meat-safe. You'll soon get used to it, and though it is too cold here for any mosquito to be very lively, it is safer. In some countries the curtains are useful for keeping off worse things than mosquitoes—tarantulas, for instance!
We are only staying one day in Cairo so are out early the next morning, and find that the town looks on the whole very like a French town. Indeed, were it not for the red fez or tarboush which so many men wear, even when they dress otherwise in European costume, and for the turbans and flowing robes of the native dress, we might be in Paris or Marseilles.
We go to the top of a very wide main street to await the tram which is to take us to the Pyramids.