I noted this, and later made the following extract from “The Modern Egyptians,” which in this connection will not be without interest:— “Shells called cowries are especially considered preservatives against the evil eye; and hence, as well as for the sake of ornament, they are often attached to the trappings of camels, horses and other animals, and sometimes to the caps of children. Such appendages are evidently meant to attract the eye to themselves, and so to prevent observation and envy of the object they are designed to protect.” “Well,” said Mrs. Petulengro, “can you tell me what this is?” as she handed to me a circular brooch having a loose silver coin mounted in it. “Yes,” I replied, “it is a piece of Turkish money.” “What are the marks all over it?” she asked further. “Are they writing?” I told her they were, and again she questioned:— “Are there people who can read it?” I assured her that there were, but still she was curious, and wished to know if I could read it. I had to confess that I could not and I believe the admission gave her real pleasure, for had she known what it signified, I am sure it would have lost much of its attractiveness. Similarly, the amulets worn by the Arabs contain, sometimes, extracts from the Koran, at others a meaningless jumble of words, which, on account of the impossibility of attributing any rational meaning to them, are considered to act as charms. Evidently the cryptic nature of the characters on the coin appealed in like manner to Mrs. Petulengro. Nothing dies harder than superstition,—as a matter of fact it appears upon investigation that superstitions are _not_ dying. If it were not impossible to arrive at exact knowledge of the grip superstitious beliefs have on all grades of society, we should probably find that while superstition _en masse_ seems to be undergoing revision,—is being brought up to date as it were,—civilization with its vaunted “march of intellect” and leavening effect of culture, seems powerless to eradicate the belief that particular ornaments or objects guard their possessors from certain real or imaginary evils. The poorest gypsies share this fatuous idea with our “old nobility” who have faith in mascots in the shape of a grotesque figure for the radiator of their motor-car, or some strange object carried or worn on the person, and the superstitious of all ranks of society who carry “charms” on their watch-chains, “lucky” pigs, wish-bones, stones, elephants, dogs, monkeys and what not on chatelaines or elsewhere about themselves or their belongings. A well-to-do person may wear a silver or gold charm studded with diamonds, while the poor person carries instead, a piece of coral, a bit of bone, portion of a bat, brass ornaments or anything beside—any one being just as likely to bring good luck, or as potent in warding off evils, as the other—_chacun à son goût_.