Several years ago, just before the Palmerstonian policy had involved all Asia, from Scinde to Syria, in war and anarchy, a young Englishman of family and fortune, named Sidney, remained at Cairo in spring after all his countrymen had departed for Alexandria in order to avoid the Khamseen winds. The month of April was well advanced in all its heat; and it disputes with May the opprobrium of being the most detestable month of the year from Rosetta to Dongola. The society of Misr the Kaherah (victorious) offered no resources beyond the shabby coffee-houses and the apparitions of Indian travellers. But at that time only a few Griffins and Nabobs were occasionally seen. There was nothing to resemble the hordes which now pass through Cairo in their bi-monthly emigrations, like flights of locusts devouring every thing that comes in their way, from the bread on the _table-d’hôte_ at the _Hotel d’Orient_ to the oranges and melons piled up like ammunition at the sides of the streets. Now, indeed, it may truly be said of these locusts, as it was of the plague of old. “Very grievous are they. Before them there were no such locusts as they; neither after them shall be such.” Mr Sidney, in order to escape from the habitual desolation of the Esbekieh, and avoid witnessing the fearful voracity of his countrymen, passed a good deal of his time in a coffee-house in the Mouski. His apology to himself for this idle and unprofitable life was his wish to improve his knowledge of colloquial Arabic. His studies in Arabic literature had been pursued with some industry and profit during the winter, under the guidance of Sheikh Ismael el Feel or the Elephant, so called from his rotundity of carcass and protuberance of proboscis. The love of French brandy displayed by this learned Theban had induced the European consuls to regard him as an oracle of Mohammedan law, and a striking proof of the progress of civilisation in the East. The Elephant repaid their esteem by unbounded affection for their purses and an immeasurable contempt for their persons. Sidney, however, had lost the friendship of the literary Elephant; for the learned Sheik, supposing that he was about to quit Cairo with the rest of his countrymen, had thought fit to absent himself, taking away as a keepsake a splendid new oriental dress just sent home from the tailor.