March 12-18.--Cairo: must not forget one day passed at Mariette’s museum, studying specially the fine things of old empire which he has discovered and rescued. Had fairly enough of mosques, Moslem tombs, modern palaces, etc. Sorry that slight illness cut off several things, notably a drive to the site of Heliopolis, marked only by a single obelisk. Steamer from Alexandria would not wait, so we must needs hurry off, our pleasant party break up, etc. March 19.--A morning drive at Alexandria, to see Pompey’s Pillar, the Obelisk, etc., and so on board the Peluze; a beautiful evening, but blowy weather followed,--a seasick time; and here we got, not Monday evening, but Tuesday morning, boat gone to Naples the day before.... Mrs. G. badly knocked up, and here is cold spring weather and fickle, weeping skies, so unlike the thoroughly reliable weather which we had got to regard as a law of nature; wherefore such freaks take us all by surprise. Oh, how we long already for the dry air and certain sky of old Egypt!... TAORMINA, March 25, evening. We have done it, after all, or at least are in the way of doing it.... This morning, when the sea looked rough with the recent gales, although the very low barometer began to rise, I was not sorry when the Florio steamer was kept back, waiting an overdue corresponding vessel from Malta, and, though announced to sail to-morrow, I determined to wait yet longer for smoother weather. Meanwhile it cleared off beautifully, though with considerable wind. At four P.M. this afternoon we were off by rail with small luggage needful, on the Catania railroad; an hour and a half along a coast more picturesque than the finest parts of the Corniche road, though not so grand, brought us to Giardini; whence an ascent of an hour up a zigzag road in a one-horse carriage, commanding charming sunset views all the way, old Etna full in view southwest, brought us to this queer perch. It reminds us of Turbia, but is far more striking. We are in a primitive, but very nice auberge; our window looking full upon the whole mass of Etna glistening in the clear moonlight. On the left hand we look directly down upon the sea and along the jagged coast; on the right Taormina Castle overhangs us almost, the old castle or forts covering its narrow summit, probably 1,000 feet above us; it must command an extraordinary view. We shall see to-morrow. Rather behind us lies the amphitheatre, on a craggy buttress between us and the sea.