Such a trip! I would give one of the fragments of Osiris to have you two on this boat. Everything arranged for our comfort and the dearest old dragoman who parades the deck in gorgeous attire with his string of 99 beads — each one representing an attribute of God! We shall take about 10 days to the Dam (Assouan), 580 miles from Cairo. Yesterday we stopped at Assiut and I saw the Hospital of the American Mission—200 beds, about 20,000 out-patients. Dr. Grant is in charge with 3 assistants and many nurses. I found there an old Clevelander . . . who had fallen off a donkey and broken his ribs, and on the 8th day had thrombosis of left leg. He was better, but at 76 he should have stayed at home. The Nile itself is fascinating, an endless panorama—on one side or the other the Arabian or the Libyan desert comes close to the river, often in great lime stone ridges, 200-800 ft. in height; and then the valley widens to eight or ten miles. Yellow water, brown mud, green fields and grey sand and rocks always in sight; and the poor devils dipping up the water in pails from one level to the other. We had a great treat yesterday afternoon. The Pasha of this district has two sons at Oxford and their tutor, A. L. Smith, a great friend of his, sent him a letter about our party. He had a secretary meet us at Assuit and came up the river to Aboutig. We had tea in his house and then visited a Manual Training School for 100 boys, which he supports. In the evening he gave us a big dinner. I wish you could have seen us start off" on donkeys for the half mile to his house. It was hard work talking to him through an interpreter, but he was most interesting—a great tall Arab of very distinguished appearance. A weird procession left his house at 10 p.m.—all of us in eve. dress, which seemed to make the donkeys very frisky. Three lantern men, a group of donkey men, two big Arabs with rifles and following us a group of men carrying sheep—one alive! chickens, fruit, vegetables, eggs, etc., to stock our larder. We tie up every eve about 8 o'clock, pegging the boat in the mud. The Arabs are fine: our Reis, or pilot, is a direct descendant, I am sure, of Rameses II, judging from his face. After washing himself he spreads his prayer mat at the bow of the boat and says his prayers with the really beautiful somatic ritual of the Muslem. The old Pasha, by the way, is a very holy man and has been to Mecca where he keeps two lamps perpetually burning and tended by two eunuchs. He is holy enough to do the early morning prayer from 4 to 6 a.m. with some 2000 sentences from the Koran. It is a great religion—no wonder Moslem rules in the East. Wonderful crops up here—sugar cane, cotton, beans and wheat. These poor devils work hard but now they have the satisfaction of knowing they are not robbed. We are never out of sight of the desert and the mountains come close on one side or the other. Today we were for miles close under limestone heights—800-1000 feet, grey and desolate. The river is a ceaseless panorama—the old Nile boats with curved prows and the most remarkable sails, like big jibs, swung on a boom from the top of the masts, usually two and the foresail the larger. I saw some great books in the Khedival Library —monster Korans superbly illuminated. The finer types have been guarded jealously from the infidel, and Moritz, the librarian, showed me examples of the finer forms that arc- not in any European libraries. Then he looked up a reference and said — " You have in the Bodleian three volumes of a unique and most important 16 cent, arabic manuscript dealing with Egyptian antiquities. We have the other two volumes.