CAIRO TO KISUMU pomp or snobbishness in his manner, and though dignified he did not put on half the airs of the average backwoods member of our House of Representatives. As he seated himself, his black coat opened so that I had a chance to note the contrast between his costume and that of the gorgeous rajahs whom I have met in India. His only jewellery consisted of a set of pearl studs the size of the smallest of peas and a watch chain of thin links of gold. He wore a cheap black bow tie in his white turnover collar, and his cuffs, though scrupulously clean, had not the polish of the American laundry.

Besides being a good French scholar, Tewfik Pasha speaks English, and that was the language used in our conversation. In speaking of his life as Khedive, he said: “ I am told that many people envy me my position. They say that I am a young man whose lot must be a pleasant one. They do not understand the troubles that surround me. Many a time I would have been glad to lay down all the honours I have for rest and peace. The ten years of my reign have been equal to forty years of work and of worry. If life were a matter of pleasure I would be a fool to remain on the throne. I believe, how¬ ever, that God put man on the world for a purpose.

Duty, not pleasure, is the chief end of man. I do the best I can for my country and my people, and I feel happiest when I do the most work and when my work is the hardest.”

As the Khedive said these words I thought of the thorns which have filled the pillow of his reign. I thought of how, upon his entering manhood, his father Ismail was de¬ posed and he was put upon the throne. I thought of how he boxed the ears of the messenger who came to tell him 62