sojourners. There might be no opera, no boulevards, no Ghizereh drive, and no real comfort. What he did for the city might be compared to what "Boss" Shepard did for Washington, "Boss" Tweed for New York, and Napoleon III and Haussmann for Paris. In his brief rule of sixteen years Ismail incurred for his people a debt of more than four hundred and fifty million dollars-a greater obligation than any other person that ever lived has succeeded in creating; but to accomplish this he mortgaged the souls of generations of Egyptians yet unborn. Half the royalties of Europe helped Ismail to spend twenty-one million dollars in celebrating in Cairo the opening of the Suez Canal. The opera of "Aida" was composed to his order, and produced as an incident to the entertainment of the Empress Eugénie and other guests. When it was discovered that there was no suitable building in the capital for the opera's production, the khedive ordered the present opera-house to be erected. Workmen toiling day and night accomplished this in a few weeks. "Aïda" had a cast composed of the greatest singers of the period, the Egyptian Museum was ransacked for jewels and "properties' to be employed in its production, and so delighted was the Egyptian ruler with the work of the composer that Verdi was handed a purse of thirty thousand dollars after the opera's first presentation. Mariette Bey, the savant in Egyptology, occupied himself with the reconstitution of the era of the Pharaohs, and it is to his skill and learning that opera-goers owe their enjoyment of the marvelous picture of the temple of Ptah in the second act. Perhaps no opera was ever put on the stage in such elaborate fashion or with such scrupulous regard for archæological accuracy. Planned to stand but a few months, the theater has since been the home of opera in Cairo, and Verdi's masterpiece is given therein several times every winter. The composer's original manuscript of " Aïda" is among the treasured archives of the opera-house. It was Ismail's dream to make an Oriental Paris of Cairo. The French metropolis, he argued, could be reproduced: it was simply a question of finance. A goodly portion of the money borrowed by the khedive was spent at Gizeh, nearly opposite the spot where tradition says Moses was found in the bulrushes. Half a dozen lath-and-plaster structures, with walls painted in a style suggesting solidity, went up there, with accompanying gardens like the Tuileries ranging from the Nile nearly to the Libyan desert. One of Ismail's ruling passions was for building palaces, and another found expression in the way he surrounded himself with everything deemed fitting to the court of a mighty personage-a king among kings. To this day, hidden away in Cairo cellars, are miles of iron fencing made to his order in Europe, a conspicuous feature of whose ornamentation is the royal cipher "I. R.," surmounted by a monarch's crown. This was to inclose palace domains, and the design had been agreed upon in anticipation of the successful outcome of negotiations pending at Constantinople for absolute independence. So certain was Ismail Pasha of positive rulership, perhaps deceived by the wily Nubar, who was concerned in the negotiations, that it is related that a banquet was given to a group of favorite functionaries in celebration of the news that he believed was forthcoming from the Sublime Porte-that the Sultan had at last consented to give him full sovereignty of the Nile country. The dinner was Lucullian in character, each dish a gastronomic triumph, and the program called for a surpris at the end of the feast. What it was to be, only the khedive and his chef knew. Clothed in immaculate white satin, the chef, wielding an enormous wooden knife, lifted the crust of a huge pie placed in the middle of the festal board, and out stepped a sprite in pink fleshings, dainty of face and form. With simulated bewilderment, she scanned for a moment the faces of those at table, and, her choice decided upon, she stepped over dishes and decorations to the head of the table, and placed a kingly crown upon the brow of Ismail. But an edict of another sort issued from Constantinople, and a few weeks after the historical feast Ismail was sent away from Egypt, never again to see his beloved capital. When dying, he pleaded to be taken back to Egypt; but not until he was dead was the consent of the Sultan and the powers granted. A specially chartered steamship brought the body of Ismail, accompanied by Princes Hussein and Fouad, his sons, from Constantinople to Alexan |