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Updated: June 25, 2025
These boys are very proud and fond of their donkeys and treat them well, but it is the ambition of every donkey-boy to see his donkey head the cavalcade, and he is ready to die of envy and mortification if any other boy's donkey gets in front of him.
Armine and cried out a welcome in many languages; Hassan, the one-eyed pipe-player; and Hamza, the praying donkey-boy, who in winter stole all the millionaires from his protesting comrades and in summer sat with the dervishes in the deep shadows of the mosques. "You seem to be as much at home here as in London," said Mrs. Armine, in a voice that was rather vague. "Ten times more, Ruby.
Have you been in London long?" Bartley bowed, somewhat laboriously, over her hand. "Long enough to have seen you more than once. How fine it all is!" She laughed as if she were pleased. "I'm glad you think so. I like it. Won't you join us here?" "Miss Burgoyne was just telling us about a donkey-boy she had in Galway last summer," Sir Harry Towne explained as the circle closed up again.
When the third one exploded, the policeman whirled around on his string, one of his hands caught fire, and up he went in a puff of smoke. They lighted the fuses on the donkey-boy and the other policeman, both at once, and last of all Tonio set fire to the Maestro Judas. He was the biggest one of all.
"I can't see what such a thing can possibly have to do with you, or why it should interest you at all." "I will find you a better maid." "Hamza perhaps?" she said. "And why not Hamza?" He looked at her, and was silent. And again she felt a sensation of fear. There was something deadly about the praying donkey-boy. "When is that girl going?" Mrs.
A donkey-boy, who had perchance taken some portly Turkish merchant back to his home in the country after his day's work in the city, came hurrying down the hill. It was steep, and loose stones covered the path. When he reached the dilapidated cemetery he pulled up his suffering animal.
We nearly tumbled off in our delight, and so quick are those clever little donkey-boys to watch your face and divine your mood that in a second they gave that Weird, long-drawn donkey call, "Oh-h-ah-h!" and my companion's donkey swung into a gentle trot, with her donkey-boy running behind, beating him with a stick and pinching him in the legs.
"We'll take Mohammed, of course, if you wish," he said, heartily, "though there are lots of donkey-boys to be got where we are going." "I've given up Mohammed," she said. He looked surprised. "Have you? What's he done?" "Nothing specially. But I prefer Hamza." "The praying donkey-boy!" "Yes."
They said that I would have a donkey-boy all to myself, that the donkey never went out of a walk, and wound up by the cheerful assurance that if he did pitch me over his head I would not have far to fall. The donkey-boys of the Nile deserve a book all to themselves. Such craft! Such flattery! Such knowledge of human nature!
"In the Fayyūm you will never find good donkey-boy, my lady, but you will do always what you like. If you not like to take Hamza, Hamza very sad, very cryin' indeed, but Hamza he stay here. You do always what you think." When he had finished speaking, she knew that Hamza would accompany them; she knew that Baroudi had ordered that Hamza was to come.
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