“The English run a race with time; and though they cannot catch and overtake him, they keep close upon his heels. An old merchant dies at eighty, who, from the age of eleven or twelve, has been hard at work six days in every week from ten in the morning till four in the evening, amassing wealth, leaving riches, a good name, and a vast inheritance behind him. That man has made more use of his time than five hundred of the most active of our countrymen; and there are a thousand instances of such as these to be met with in the city.
“But whilst we have been thinking about this, the cab stops opposite to a splendid _seraiyah_, a veritable palace. You image that this must be the Queen’s residence, and begin to expostulate with your friend for ushering you into the presence of royalty before you have had time to pay some attention to your toilet; he laughs at your ignorance. Two gentlemen, handsomely dressed and without hats, rush into the street and officiously carry in your luggage. You are quite shocked to see the nobility thus debased, and struggle with them to relieve them of their burden. The friend again interferes, and you find to your amazement, that the palace is nothing more than a large _khan_ for the accommodation of wealthy travellers, and that the two gentlemanly-looking men are _khudâmeen_, and that there are at least a dozen more, all in the same capacity, all as well dressed and as good-looking. You are then ushered into a room splendidly furnished; mirrors and chandeliers, tables and chairs, pictures and divans, all in profusion, and the commonest article in the room worth at least one thousand piastres. Your friend touches a spring, a bell rings in the distance, the door opens, and a _houri_ enters. This must be the lady of the palace; but she is young and tender as a dove, and blushes like the rose of Damascus in acknowledging your _salams_. Alas! even this beautiful creature is one of the _khudâmeen_, and you sigh to hear your friend order her to bring up the scuttle of coals, whose black dust cannot but soil her snowy and tapering fingers. It takes you a good week to settle down into anything like peace and comfort, or to get accustomed to the ways of the place and the hours for eating and sleeping. It takes you a month to reconcile yourself to the perpetual roaring and din in the streets, occasioned by the countless vehicles passing and repassing in the streets.