Here in the East civilization begun, and gradual, gradual it stalked along towards the West, and is slowly, slowly marchin’ on round the world back to where it started from, and when the round world is belted with knowledge and Christianity, then mebby will come the thousand years of peace, the millennium the Scriptures have foretold, when the lamb shall lay down with the lion and a young child shall lead them. I spoze the young child means the baby Peace that shall bime-by lead the nations along into the World Beautiful. And there shall be no more war.
CHAPTER XXIII
Cairo is different from any other city under the sun, and after you’ve been there when you shet you eyes and see it agin in memory, the brilliant colorin’ sheds its picturesque glow over the brilliant seen. The deep bright blue of the sky, the splendor of the sunlight, the dazzlin’ white of the buildings, the soft mellow brown of the desert and the green of the tropical foliage always comes back to brighten the panorama.
And the crowds of people from all parts of the world, each dressed in his and her natural costume, every style of dress and every color under the sun. And the milds of bazars, little booths about ten feet square but all runnin’ over with the richest embroideries, silken fabrics, gold, silver, amber and everything else gorgeous. Then there is the new part of Cairo, the broad, long streets lined with magnificent buildin’s. The great Citadel of Cairo and the Alabaster Mosque up on a rocky height, six hundred feet above the city. The Citadel wuz built by Saladin in 1100, most a thousand years ago. Where is Mr. Saladin and his folks? and his dynasty? All forgot centuries ago, but the work he thought out is here still. The Mosque is the only building’ in the world built of alabaster; it wuz begun by Mehemet Ali, the great-grandfather of the Khedive. The alabaster looks like satin, amber and white color, mebby some of my readers have got a little alabaster box or figger that they set store by, it is so costly and fine. Then think of a hull buildin’ three hundred feet square built of it. The ruff is uplifted by alabaster columns; the alabaster galleries are a hundred feet above the floor. The gilded dome can be seen 266 twenty or thirty milds away. The view from the terrace in front is so beautiful that you don’t want to leave it. The city lies before you and a long view of the Nile, rich gardens, green fields, towering palms, the pyramids standin’ like ghosts out of the past, Memphis, oldest city of the world. Turn your head and there is the land of Goshen; how many times amidst the overwhelmin’ cares of a Jonesville kitchen have we mentioned “Land of Goshen,” but solemn now to look at and contemplate as the home of the patriarchs. Only two milds off down the Nile is the spot where Napoleon fought with the Mamelukes and won the Battle of the Pyramids. And jest under you as you look down, you see the ruff of the Egyptian Museum where the body of Ramesis lays, once rulin’ with a high hand he and his folks, as many as a dozen of ’em, over all the land our stranger eyes looked down on. But now they’re nothin’ but a side show, as you may say in a museum.
Josiah wuz dretful took with the sights of shops on either side of the narrow streets of old Cairo and all sorts of trades bein’ carried on there right out doors: goldsmiths and silversmiths makin’ their jewelry right there before you, and Josiah sez: “I lay out to have a shop rigged out doors to hum and make brooms and feather dusters; and why don’t you, Samantha; how uneek it would be for you to have your sewin’-machine or your quiltin’-frames in the corner of the fence between us and old Bobbett’s, and have a bedquilt or a crazy blanket draped behind you on the fence. You could have a kind of a turban if you wanted to; I would lend you one of my bandannas. I’m goin’ to wear ’em in my bazar when I rig one up, and my dressin’-gown, and I shall have Ury wear one and sandals. I can make some crackin’ good sandals for us all out of shingles, and lace ’em on with colored ribbins. How dressy they will make me look. I shall lace my sandals on with yeller and red baby ribbin, them colors are so becomin’ and make my complexion look fairer. We shall jest coin money out of my bazar, and I shall write 267 to Ury to put in a piece of broom corn, and mebby we shall make jewelry; we could make some good mournin’ jewelry out of coal and lam-black.”
Well, I didn’t argy with him, thinkin’ most probable that he’d forgit it, but Arvilly, who wuz with us, sez: “I guess it would be mournin’ jewelry in good earnest if you made it; I guess it would make anybody mourn to see it, let alone wearin’ it.”
“Wait till you see it,” sez he.
And she sez, “I am perfectly willin’ to wait.”