What
can a man do, in a strange country, when he is told that a native
spits in his face by way of civility? I bore it, I bore it--like a
man; and sighed for the comforts of Friday Street.
As to one matter, I made up my mind on that day, and I fully carried
out my purpose on the next: I would go across to the Well of Moses
in a boat. I would visit the coasts of Asia. And I would ride back
into Africa on a camel. Though I did it alone, I would have my
day's pleasuring. I had money in my pocket, and, though it might
cost me 20 pounds, I would see all that my namesake had seen. It
did cost me the best part of 20 pounds; and as for the pleasuring, I
cannot say much for it.
I went to bed early that night, having concluded my bargain for the
morrow with a rapacious Arab who spoke English. I went to bed early
in order to escape the returning party, and was again on the quay at
six the next morning. On this occasion, I stepped boldly into the
boat the very moment that I came along the shore. There is nothing
in the world like paying for what you use. I saw myself to the
bottle of brandy and the cold meat, and acknowledged that a cigar
out of my own case would suit me better than that long stick. The
long stick might do very well for a Governor of Pegu, but would be
highly inconvenient in Friday Street.
Well, I am not going to give an account of my day's journey here,
though perhaps I may do so some day.
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