By Desert Ways to Baghdad

by Louisa Jebb Wilkins

"Yes."

"Peki (very good), Effendim; yimurta (eggs), 2 piastres." I would write it down.

"Yasdin me?"

"Ne yasdin me?" (what is "yasdin me?").

"Yasdin me? yasdin me? yasdin me?"

I have not the smallest idea what "yasdin me" means, but I pretend to write it down and then say:

"How many piastres was it?"

Hassan makes a gesture of despair.

"Yasdin me? yasdin me? yasdin me?" he repeats again.

"X," I shout across the tent, "what does 'yasdin me' mean? I suppose it's some sort of food, only he won't tell me how many piastres it costs."