File:By the waters of Carthage (1906) (14780879121).jpg

Identifier: bywatersofcartha00loriuoft (find matches)
Title: By the waters of Carthage
Year: 1906 (1900s)
Authors: Lorimer, Norma Octavia, 1864-
Subjects: Tunisia -- Description and travel
Publisher: London : Hutchinson
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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with that delicate mashrabeyah stucco-work, whichof all the fine things the proud Moors brought withthem from Spain to Africa, is to me the finest—it isso fairy-like in its lightness, so amazing in its delicateconception. It is indeed lacework in plaster—Venetianpoint of the finest texture spread over domes and archeswith the profligate luxury of the East. Since thegreat old days of slave labour, I should imaginethat even the Emperor of Morocco has had to satisfyhimself with a less costly form of decoration for theinteriors of his mosques and tombs. And yet, when Ilook up at it, 1 always feel that it is not the work ofman, but a captive Eastern dream. Its beauty is toounreal, too mysterious, to be the work of mere mortals.Some magician in the Arabian Nights might have com-manded all the bees in Africa to cease their eternalhoney-hoarding and devote their inspired building tothe beautifying of a roof for a wonder-loving sultan. Being excluded from every religious building here / ;
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Plioto Ganiiiites, Tiinii LACEWORK IN ILASTER. \ Chapter VIII i43 makes me all the more determined to go to Kairowan,for unless you have seen a nation at prayer as well asat play, what do you know of it ? Nothing—less thannothing—that is to say if it is a Moslem country,for the Moslems religion is his soul, and his soul is inhis mosque. But in less time by far than I have taken to writemy little outburst of indignation, we had reached thePorte de France, and left the tram and passed oncemore under the horse-shoe arch to the Hotel Eymon. I gave Mohammed of the door-mat the pottery totake up to my bedroom, which he did not do until Ihad told him what I had paid for the lot. Kadesh ?(How much ?) he asked. I told him three francs. He pointed to them all—I nodded. He looked surprised and smiled approvingly, and thensprang up the white-marble stairs at his usual leopardpace. At that moment Bachir appeared. Good morning,I said. You see I have already been to the Place Bab-Souika and bo

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