The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1893-05-14
copyright. 1898. By the Aufhor.l

4@1LOpOoh Il WHOiu no CaDto III hto
aud that he was amused. as we'll as amazed,
TO IND q dry twig among the plant grass
Resisting his ecornfui scythe. Not other
Wise was this invitation eXpiicabIe. / ac-
ceptcd it cordially. tor he interested me-.
anu We walked on Tor the best part of q
mile, conversiDg till we reached u low arch
way. under which we passed, and L iound
myself In a large square court, surrounded
on three sides by o marrow balcony. Two
or three Arabs were seated on some mat
ting. smoking and talking IN the bright
moonlight which fell on the side OF tue
court where they sat, casting Q black shad-
ow slantwise from the other side. A door
stood open there. through which L saw the
red-yeIlow flare of q lamp. We mounted
the wooden exterior staircase in an angle
of the court. and Sigismund drew u key
from his pocket and opened 1t.
The room we entered was small. and In
strange confusion. The bed was strewn
with papers: MSS. IN every stage or
decomposition. The floor was covered with
them; one of the two tables IN the room
was thickly piled with them, and with vol
umes In Persian and Arabic. On the other
table were pipes, tobacco. q small mirror.
some sheets of music and his toilet ar
r~angemeDts, which were OF the simplest
description. A bath was in one corner of
the room. and some open portmanteaux,
into which, as there was no wardrobe, his
clothes were pitched. In another corner
was some sort of guitar or mandolin. Sew
Ctdt DcnCll hOtCAc6 " L WOAO pAhaOa
against the wall; and upon a shelf above
the bed was b row of TASKS and phials. OF
every shape and size, all corked and all
labeled. l was not long lett III doubt as
to their contents.
He filled a pipe and offered it to me. At
the same moment the doorway. through
which the moonlight poured, was sndden-
ly darkehed by the form of an Arab In q
white bournous. His cleaning. olive face
peered in, with a galutAtion, and u few
xrorAa y.aan1 500 &h. t~D m ~
seemed to me-. answers on the Arabs part
to S~igismund's questions. The Arab In.
dulged freely Dantomime. He raised the
palm of his right hand. cup like. to re-
ceive his cheek. which be inclined into IT.
He imposed the other hand alternately
mund appeared satisfied. He took down
two phIals from the shelf. poured out o
measured quantity from each. and handed
the glass TO the man. who with q profound
salaam disappeared.
$50 these fellows como to you for medi-
cine. do they" said.
"Yes. | ain q doctor. At least / took out
my diploma years ago. and used to put peo-
Die out of their pain one way or another.
for a guinea. as easily as the rest of them"
Have you quite given up your profess
slOnl"
Il only practice on these poor devils.
They have faith in me-. and so-thsy are
generally benefited"
lnen Wnat you Seio lust now was NOT
truef"
VERY likely. / can lie as we'll as an
Other-tO support my views. But what do
you meant"
You do give something to others. You
don't live wholly for yourself"
Pooh! This is only misunderstanding
else. / like doing it. 1t gives me no
tr5uble. and It amuses me. They tell one
another l am a magician. and before I've
been in a place q week my door is besieged.
But let US drop this. y Tell me il
this sherbet isn't prime-just such stuff as
inspired Hatz and Omer."
He filled me o glaes. and i drunk it Oft. /
should have preferred old port or sound
claret; but for those who like a luscious
wine IL was, no doubt. excellent. Then l
said:
Tell me. If you do not mind. what you
are wilmington you evidently are en-
gagged on some big work."
Only my ~jOurnal-biR enough In one
sense-my journal all over the world; IN
places whore no other European has ever
set foot"
THAT must be interesting. And
of all the countries you have seen you pre-
fer Egypt"
"And Persia. Like Moore's sunfower
mot the real one. by~-the-byl, my face 10
now turned resolutely to the God in the
when do you mean to publish your
%journalf"
Never"
"Neverf What is the use of TRANSCRIPT
ing 1t then. as l see you are dOingf"
iii live to be eighty. imbecile above.
and paralyzed below. il may amuse me to
live my wanderings over again. SO il must
be clearly written out. But why publish
What good would it do mef Fame?-I de.
spise 1T. Moneyf-I have enough. No, Pm
too wise to encounter unnecessary wor-
ries. / have attained to the uppe Calm of
my Persian nnafa Uhara tho mats O nd N m -
rents of ambition and vain desire are un-
Known"
Hum! Whether Your poets. with their
phi
losophy fioated superior to these currents.
who shall sayf One thing Is clear. They
give TO the world what they wrote-or you
would not be the fO0lisher for them, as |
think You are.'
We both laughed. perhaps that is what
the world would be if l published. The
overstock of foolish books shall not be in
creased by me-"
We talked on for nearly an hour. and
then left him for my sumptuous Shep-
herds sleek pastures. where no sick Arabs
penetrated tie dormitorIes of the sheep
which be feeced so closely; those poor
'brevis de Panurge" blinking at the pyra-
mids, in fiocks. day after day, and braying
their little chorus of correct approval.
What a contrast to this racy and wrong
headed S;gismund.
We became great friends; meeting daily
during my stay in Cairo. 1t often struck
me as odd that we should suit each other,
orr ideas on nearly all subjects of import
being Numerically opposed. Perhaps il
was on this account that he interested
NE. Self-prOclaimed cyclists rarely inter-
est any one but 1t required no great dis.
cernClent to see that his egOtism was only
u thin ernst. which. do what be would ia
harden il around him. might easily be
pierced through, when occasion de.
handed. He often made me angry by his
contempt for accidental civilization. Alas
poor fellow! i cannot help thinking now
that had he seen more of it he might have
been saved from committing a fatal error.
L used To say that if the devil himself ap.
peared with q fez on his head. Sigismund
would greet him warmly. Me, however,
without q fez. l am happy to remember. he
always seemed glad TO see. Though we
wrangled over the great problems of lite,
there were many things we had in common.
In the fower-ields Of music and poetry
the breath of the same sweet herbs ap-
peaied 10 each. and we knew, in inter
changing thoughts. that We felt the beauty
OF coior and form IN much the same way.
Besides an unusual capacity with Ills
pencil Tor seizing character and delineatina
action. he sang with great spirit and feel
ing snatches of song from ell lands, which
he had picked MP. i'm provislng an accom-.
paniment on the guitar. and, though I'm.
taught. he was never wrong in his har-
monies. Like everything he did. his sing
ing was original; not TO be- COMPOUNDED with
the ordinary baritone wsroling of drawing
rooms. You were not bound to like all tina
Wild O~utlandish music, with Its strange in.
tervals and progresslons. but certainly you
had never heard il before. found grea,
pleasure IN listening to him and IN listen,
ing with him TO such music as tie cafes and
public bands afforded, where his taste ann