Wheeling register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1878-1935, 1897-11-22
CONTINUED from Saturdays Issue.)

Meanwhile, had a shadow over my
own life which would not list. That
letter which had received from home
AZ the moment of leaving Tangier had
haunted me throughout the journey.
Its brevity, it's insufiiciency, it's delay,
and above all, its conspicuous opis-
sion of all mention of our boy Ehad
given rise to endless speculation.
Every dark possibility that fancy could
devise had risen before me by way of
speculation. | despised myself for
such weakness, but self contempt did
nothing to allay my vague fears. The
child was i'll; l knew it; l felt it;
could swear to it as certainly as it
my ears could hear the labored breath
ing in his throat.
Nevertheless, l went on; SO much
did my philosophy do for me. But
when | got to Fee / walked straight
s way to the English postoffice to see
Of there was letter awaiting me.
OF course, there was no letter there.
l had not reflected that l had come
direct from the port through which
the mails had to pass, and that il the
postal courier had gone by me on the
road / must have seen him, which l
had not.
I was ashamed before my own con-
seriousness, but all the same the post
Office saw me every day. Whatever
the direction that | took with my in
terpreter it led towards that destina-
ton in the end And whatever the
subject of his ceaseless gabble-a
very diarrhoea of words-it was fore
ed to come round at last to the stimea
and seasons of the mails from Eng
land. These were biWeekly, with
various possibilities of casuel arrivals
besides.
Fee is noble city, the largest and
finest Oriental city had yet seen, fit
to compare in its own much different
way of beauty and Of splendor with
the great cities of the West, the great
cities of the earth, and of all time;
but for me its attractions were over
Swallowed by the gloom of my anxiety.
The atmosphere of an older world,
the spirit of the East, the sense Of be-
ing transported to Bible times, the
startling interpretations which the
Biblical stories were receiving by the
events of every day-these brought me
no pleasure. AS for the constant re-
minders of the presence OF Islam
every hour, at every corner, the per-
petual breath of prayer and praise,
which filled this land that was cor
rupt to the core, they gave me pain
more poignant than disgust. The
call of the mooddin in the early morn
ing was a daily agony. l slept three
streets from the Karueein minarets,
but the voice seemed to float into my:
room in the darkness, and coil round
my head and ring in my ears. AL
ways l was awakened at the first
sound of the stentorian "Allahukabar, j"
or if l woke in the silence and thought
with feeling of relief, ct is over;
have slept through it," the bowling
wall would suddenly break in upon my
thanksgiving.
! There was just one fact of life in
FEE that gave me sort of melancholy
10Y. AT nearly every turn of a street
my ears were arrested by the Tuuftf-y
fudinous cackle, the brOken-various
voiced sing-song of a children's school.
These Moorish schools interested me.
They were the simplest of all possible
institutes, consisting usually of a rush
covered cellar, two steps down from
the street, with the teacher, the Taleb,
often a half-blind old man, squatting
in the middle of the floor, and his pu-
pills seated about him, and all reciting
together some passages of the Koran,
the only textbook of education. One
such school was close under my bed
room window; | heard the drone of it
as early as seven o'clock every morn
ing, and as often as | went abroad
stood for a moment and looked in at
the open doorway. A black boy sat
there with a basket for the aims of
passers-by. He was bright-eyed lit
tie fellow, six or seven years of age,
and he knew one English phrase only.
Come on" he would say, and hold up
the basket and smile. What pathetic
interest his sunny face had for me,
how he would cheer and touch me,
with what strange memories his voice
and laugh would startle me, it would
be pitiful to tell.
Bear with me, | was far from my
own darling, | was in strange land,
| was a weak man for all that | was
thought so strong, and my one beset-
ting infirmity, more consuming than
a mothers love-was preyed upon by
my falling health, which in turn was
preying upon it.
And if the sights of the streets
brought me pain, the visions, the
dreams of my own solitary mind!
could not close my eyes in the dark
ness but l saw my boy. His little
child-ghost was always with me- He
never appeared as l had oftenest seen
him-laughing, romping and kicking
UP his legs on the hearth rug. Some
times he came as he would do at home
after he had committed some childish
trespass and | had whipped him
opening the door Of my room and STEP
ping, one pace in, quietly, nervously,
half-fearfully to say goodnight and
kiss me at his bedtime, and | would
lift my eyes and see, over the shade
of my library lamp, his little sober
red-and-white face just dried of its
recent tears. Or again sometimes |
myself would seem in these dumb dra-
mas of the darkness to go into his
room when he was asleep, that |
might indulge my hungry foolish heart
with looks of fondness that the re-
proving parent could not give, and
find him sleeping with an open book
in his hands, which he had made be-
lieve to read. And then for sheer fol-
ly Of love I would pick up his wee
knickerbockers and turn out its load
a. n