The gross superstition, and the innumerable local saints, remind us again of mediaeval times. Many--perhaps most--of the people wear charms, written on paper, and sewn up in leather; they are worn around the neck, on the purse or pouch, or on the top of the cap. Cattle are also sometimes protected by them. It is common also for a man passing a saint’s tomb to repeat a prayer in a low mumble, even without stopping; while many go into the tomb-chamber to pray. These saints are anybody who has died in an odour of sanctity, probably within this century or the last--for few, I imagine, have a perennial reputation. Some of the great saints are commonly appealed to in the slightest emergency, such as lifting a weight or climbing an obstacle; and constant appeals are made to _Ya Said, ya Bedawi, ya Tantawi_ (‘O Said, O Bedawi, O man of Tantah’) or _Ya sitteh Zenab_ (‘O lady Zenab,’ the wife of the prophet); while a Copt, if his legs are stiff in rising from the ground, will call out, _Ya adrah Mariam_ (‘O virgin Mary’). The most absurd tales are readily believed, and there is little or no discrimination or criticism applied to them. At one village there lies a large number of rough stones half hidden in the ground, scattered over an acre or so; probably old remnants of building material, brought a century or two ago from the hills. A great festival of a local saint is held at the village yearly, and an intelligent fellow gravely told me that the saint had been murdered there with all his followers, of whom a thousand were buried under each of the stones. The total number, or the question of burying a thousand men in a few square yards, did not seem to matter. I have also heard the old tale of the man who stole a sheep and ate it: when questioned, he denied the theft, whereat the sheep bleated in his stomach. A station-master, who had been educated in England, told me in English, in all sincerity, a tale about a Copt he knew, who got great treasures from a hall full of gold in an ancient mound. The door of the place only opened for five minutes once a week, on Friday noon, just when all true believers are at mosque; then the Copt went and took all the gold he could carry, before the door shut. One day, tarrying, the door began to shut and wounded his heel before he could escape. [Illustration: 114. HOUSES IN MIDDLE EGYPT.] While naming the local festivals above, it may be noted that they generally take place around a tall pole fixed in some open space by the village. Some poles are stout masts thirty or forty feet high: around this central point is the celebration of the _molid_ or birthdays of the village saint. Some _molids_ are fairs for the whole district, lasting nine days or even more, and attended by performers, shows, jugglers, sweet-sellers, and as much riff-raff as any English fair.