Village books

They walked
on and suddenly came to a canvas booth on which was an Eastern name.
Roughly painted on sail-cloth was a picture of an Arab charming snakes,
and above were certain words in Arabic. At the entrance, a native sat
cross-legged, listlessly beating a drum. When he saw them stop, he
addressed them in bad French.
'Does not this remind you of the turbid Nile, Dr Porhoet?' said Haddo.
'Let us go in and see what the fellow has to show.'
Dr Porhoet stepped forward and addressed the charmer, who brightened on
hearing the language of his own country.
'He is an Egyptian from Assiut,' said the doctor.
'I will buy tickets for you all,' said Haddo.
He held up the flap that gave access to the booth, and Susie went in.
Margaret and Arthur Burdon, somewhat against their will, were obliged to
follow. The native closed the opening behind them. They found themselves
in a dirty little tent, ill-lit by two smoking lamps; a dozen stools were
placed in a circle on the bare ground. In one corner sat a fellah woman,
motionless, in ample robes of dingy black.


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