_16th._--The old worn-out bandit met me, and asked me to cure his rheumatic pains. "Show me your tongue," I said. He flatly refused, as several persons were present. Then when I went away he came running after me, and tried to put out his tongue, but did not succeed. I told him to drink plenty of hot broth, and go to bed. He seemed satisfied. An Arab soldier afflicted with diarrhœa, came for medicine. He waited till the last rays of the sun were seen to depart from the minaret's top, before he would take his pills. Meanwhile, he gave me a catalogue of grievances, the sum and substance of which was, "he had nothing to eat." I questioned him over and over again, and then, coming to the same stern conclusion, I gave him some supper. Some weeks ago the Rais gave each soldier 3 Tunisian piastres, about 1_s._ 10_d._ Since then they had had nothing. Substantially, I believe, he spoke the truth, for these poor fellows are kept just above the starvation-to-death point. It is not surprising they wish to return to their homes, or Tripoli, and that they pilfer about the town. Asking him why the Rais did not give them a few karoobs, he replied naively, "The Rais has none for us, but plenty to buy gold for his horse's saddle." To-day, nor yesterday, could I buy any eatable meat. I mean mutton, for this is the ordinary meat of the place, and upon which I live, with now and then a fowl. But in the Souk another camel was killed, and a great display was made of its meat. The camel was ill before killed, but not so bad as the one already mentioned. Some fifty persons were enjoying the sight of the camel being cut up, for the Moorish butchers always cut up their meat into very small portions, sometimes not bigger than a couple of mouthsful. Before killed, the camel sold for one hundred and eight Tunisian piastres; the one on which the Kady gave judgment, only produced thirty-three. (Tunisian piastres vary from 7_d._ to 9_d._) Yesterday the weather sultry, and a few drops of rain fell on the parched oasis--drops of ambrosia from the gods. To-day it is cloudy and cool, for the first time since my residence here; a cool elastic sensation braces up my poor drooping frame.