His cotton-mills were set on fire- can't you guess who did it?
And now, down in Cairo, Nahoum runs Egypt; for a messenger that got through the tribes worrying us tells us that Kaid is sick, and Nahoum the Armenian says, you shall, and you shan't, now.

Which is another way of saying, that between us and the front door of our happy homes there are rattlesnakes that can sting--Nahoum's arm is long, and his traitors are crawling under the canvas of our tents! I'm not complaining for myself.

I asked for what I've got, and, dear Lady Cousin, I put up some cash for it, too, as a man should.
No, I don't mind for myself, fond as I am of loafing, sort of pottering round where the streets are in the hands of a pure police; for I've seen more, done more, thought more, up here, than in all my life before; and I've felt a country heaving under the touch of one of God's men--it gives you minutes that lift you out of the dust and away from the crawlers.

And I'd do it all over a thousand times for him, and for what I've got out of it.

I've lived.