"Josette would tell us it's splendid luck to see storks on their
nests," said Nevill. "Arabs think they bring good fortune to places.
That's why people cut off the tops of the trees and make nests for them,
so they can bless the neighbourhood and do good to the crops. Storks
have no such menial work here as bringing babies. Arab babies have to
come as best they can--sent into the world anyhow; for storks are men
who didn't do their religious duties in the most approved style, so they
have to revisit the world next time in the form of beneficent birds."
But Nevill did not want to answer questions about storks and their
habits. He had tired of them in a moment, and was passionately
interested in mules. "There ought to be an epic written about the mules
of North Africa!" he exclaimed. "I tell you, it's a great subject. Look
at those poor brave chaps struggling to pull carts piled up with casks
of beastly Algerian wine, through that sea of mud, which probably goes
all the way through to China. Aren't they splendid? Wait till you've
been in this country as long as I have, and you'll respect mules as I
do, from army mules down to the lowest dregs of the mule kingdom. I
don't ask you to love them--and neither do they. But how they work here
in Africa--and never a groan! They go on till they drop. And I don't
believe half of them ever get anything to eat. Some day I'm going to
start a Rest Farm for tired mules.
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