|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 58
Damaris smiled spasmodically when, as she put the letter down under the
jasmine, her neighbours let off a broadside.
The head dragoman wanted to get up a party for Deir el-Bahari on the
morrow. He had twenty pairs of donkeys, all of which were so
accustomed, it seemed, to going about in a bunch that they refused to
move a step if one pair was missing. Nineteen pairs had been filled
from the different hotels, one pair was still minus riders. Would
Damaris make a couple with Mr. Lumlough?
Mr. Lumlough, who was of the raw age of nineteen and who worshipped in
secret at the girl's shrine, blushed divinely salmon-pink and coughed.
Damaris shook her head.
She longed to see the Temple, as she longed to go to Denderah, but not
in a crowd; also, she longed to confide all her secrets (of which her
visit to the Temple of Amnon was not one of the least) to her
godmother. She was just the slightest bit scared, and, being very
young, felt incapable of prescribing for her burnt finger-tips.
She had only to keep away from the fire, but, as I have already said,
she was very young.
"Do, Damaris! We are taking our lunch on donkeys, as well."
"But why not let the empty pair go without riders? Or let Mr. Lumlough
go on one and let the other trot by its side without anyone? I'm sure
it would love a holiday."
No! These twenty pairs of donkeys belonged to an asinine Trades Union.
The twenty pairs went together or not at all; they went up the steep
hill with a human being on their backs or not at all; if one solitary
moke out of the forty trades-unionists should be asked to climb a hill
with nothing on its back, it would not move one step--no, not if the
most luscious carrot feast awaited it at the top; and if it refused to
budge, the thirty-nine others would support it by also refusing to
budge! Yes! even if they held up the whole of the tourist season for
eternity and never again tasted luscious carrot in all the years
allotted to the asinine race. What _is_ the good of customs if you
don't stick to them? The donkeys' parents had always climbed that hill
heavily-laden, and what was good enough for them was also good enough
for their descendants!
"I think it's horrid of you, Damaris. Besides, what are you going to
do all by yourself?" said Ellen, opening a letter bits of which she
proceeded to read out. "Here's a letter from Sybil Sidmouth. She and
Mr. Kelham are having a very poor time sitting about in the rocks and
tombs all day and half the night."
"How romantic!" sighed Berenice. "All alone with Nature in an Egyptian
desert! It reminds me of Omar's Jug and Loaf verse. How does it go?"
She flipped through her notebook. "Ah! here it is." And she proceeded
to read, with appropriate punctuation with her tea-spoon on the edge of
her saucer:
"A book of verses underneath the bough
A jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and Thou
Beside me, singing in the wilderness;
O, wilderness were Paradise enow!"
She looked up, suddenly, surprised and indignant, at Ellen, who had
kicked her violently under the table; then she tried to cover up her
confusion at her unfortunate _faux pas_.
"Mrs. Sidmouth, of course, is far from well," she continued. But Ellen
broke in, in her high staccato and appalling French:
"_Revenons � nos moutons_--or at least, our donkeys." She looked at
Damaris, who, with over-bright eyes, laughed whole-heartedly at the
feeble joke. "Do change your mind, Damaris. The guide is Yussuf, the
very best, you know. Besides, we _might_ see the lion."
"All right," said Damaris, tucking the jasmine into the belt of her
white dress, which she had never done before. "I'll come. Twenty
pairs of donkeys climbing up a hill will be an awfully funny
sight,--don't you think so, Mr. Lumlough?"
She smiled across at Mr. Lumlough, who was thereupon transported to the
portals of the seventh heaven with a piece of toast and marmalade in
his right hand.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|