This active little pest absolutely swarms in the East. The inhabitants are so used to the Fleas that either the insects do not touch them, or by long custom they become so inured to their attack that the bites are not felt. But every traveller in Eastern lands has a tale to tell about the Fleas, which seem to be accepted as one of the institutions of the country, and to be contemplated with perfect equanimity. Miss Rogers, for example, in her "Domestic Life in Palestine," mentions how she was obliged to stand upon a box in order Mr. Urquhart, experienced Orientalist as he was, found on one occasion that the Fleas were too strong for him. He had forgotten his curtain, and was invaded by armies of Fleas, that marched steadily up the bed and took possession of their prey. The people were quite amused at his complaints, and said that their Bey could not sleep without a couple of hundred of them in his bosom. Mr. Urquhart suggests that these little creatures act as a wholesome irritant to the skin, and says that the last two mouthfuls of every meal are for the benefit of the Fleas. In order to show the perfect indifference with which the presence of these little pests is regarded, I quote a passage from Mr. Farley's "Druses of the Lebanon." He was in a Turkish bath, and was much amused at a scene which presented itself. "A man, whose skin resembled old discoloured vellum, was occupying himself with the somewhat undignified pursuit of pursuing with great eagerness something that, from the movement of his hands, seemed continually to elude him, jumping about and taking refuge in the creases and folds of his shirt, that was spread out over his lap as he sat cross-legged on his bedstead like a tailor on his board. This oddity was no less a dignitary than a Pasha." |