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THE CASINO IN CONSTRUCTION
greet us; but as our eyes become accustomed to the atmosphere, so full of smoke and dust, we begin to gain a vague idea of the interior. A deafening, ear-splitting, roof-rending symphony is being executed by the most energetic Arabs we have ever seen; an athletic orchestra, whose frantic bangings of tambourines and whose cheek-bursting blowings into shrill flutes, lead one to doubt that its members are of the same race as the listeners,—those calm shrouded figures serenely reposing on the wooden shelves around the walls, looking for all the world like a museum of mummies partially unwrapped. Their eyes are fixed with a vague stare upon the dancing Almée. For hours this continues; the dancers change, but the musicians thunder on, while with empty eyes and bodies motionless the Arab auditors sit as if entranced. To us, however, be the credit for having roused them from their lethargy,—a flash-light cartridge did the work. The superstitious customers fled from the deadly brilliancy and rolling clouds of smoke until the place was nearly empty. Then the proprietor demanded redress for his losses, the guests having departed without settling their accounts. Willingly do we hand over the price of thirty
