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 departure. I enjoyed noticing the women sitting back in shady places; of course, thinly clad, but in garments that had seen much service, and always with the ugly veils below their eyes. There would be adult groups by themselves, or women with children, but men with large turbans sat in stolid dignity — I mean, of course, those who are not servants and waitersthey were always separate. As early as I could, I went to the principal Christian Mission. The “home” and the school building were just then empty because it was in vacation, so that I did not see either teachers or scholars. One day, however, we journeyed to Rameses, the place familiar to readers of the Scriptures. There Rev. Mr. Ewing and his family had a summer residence where they stayed during the hottest season. As soon as I entered their principal room I felt as if I were in the United States. It was a Christian home. The mottoes over the doors, the few select books, including the Bible and hymn book on the table, and the rocking chairs that had found their way even to Rameses; the familiar pictures on the wall and the tidy lounge underneath-everything reminded one of an American home! I felt this more as we sat down to the noonday meal with the family, when Mr. Ewing bowed his head and in a few words gave God thanks for comforts and blessings. We visited one Egyptian residence and saw all we were allowed to see. It was an old type of living and how different from this home at Rameses We at one time looked in upon a school taught after the Mohammedan fashion: ten or twelve boys sitting on the dirt floor, going over and over again extracts from the Koran or from Sanscrit selections. The missionary
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