The Egyptian of the better class struck me as rather a fine fellow in a way. He was certainly intelligent, handsome as men go, and clean-run enough while on the right side of thirty. After that age, however, he was prone to pile on flesh and drop his chest lower down. His chief amusements seemed to be eating, drinking iced lemonade and sherbet, riding in big, costly motors, listening to the band, and admiring the Western ladies. In dress he was an out-and-out howling swell—a flash of the flashiest. On the whole I should say he liked and respected the Britisher in a lazy, good-tempered way; was a law-abiding citizen, but would never find the sand to stand up to the Westerner in a mix-up for the showboss's job. The lower-class natives were just a cut above the poor devils of donkeys they exercised their cruelties on. They would sell their own daughters to the highest bidder—and throw in a wife as _backsheesh_. They were nearly all "crooks," and cheated you right and left if you allowed them. It was only a new chum who gave them anything like the price they asked for their goods. They hated you like poison when you drove a fair bargain and despised you for a tenderfoot if you didn't. They were as saving as a Cousin Jack, investing their earnings in donkeys and wives. I once asked a chap with a face like a Murchison black-fellow, which fetched the higher price: he side-tracked, but admitted that while it was always easy enough to pick up a passable wife, good donkeys were anything but common. Taking them bye and large, the lower-class natives, as we found them, were twisters, crooks, and liars; they were (like most Eastern breeds) cruel devils with animals, loading their wretched donkeys and ponies down till they could hardly move, and then cutting them up with heavy sticks and whips till a fellow felt like putting the swine to sleep. I fancy they treated their camels rather better; camels are costly animals, and I have heard it stated that if ill-treated they have a habit of eating their masters. This I cannot vouch for, by the way. I once nearly put my great toe out in an argument with one of the brutes (a native, not a camel), over a poor little donkey. I had only light canvas shoes on at the time, instead of the military hob-nailed boot. I never made a similar mistake again. However, I had the satisfaction of knowing that the unfortunate animal would be spared _his_ weight for a day or two. In dismissing the low-down Gippy for the time, I have only to add that he is as husky as they make them, intensely religious, and works his wives and daughters much the same as the other animals he possesses. He is also a deal dirtier, and his washerwoman must have a lively job.