The wine-shops, too, along the road, how tempting, with snowy table-cloths spread upon dressers under shady arbors of lemontrees; pleasant odors from the fry cooking in the stove, mixing with the perfume of the waxy flowers!

Fry-pans cost money.

When their thin racket had turned out and died in the dust of the market, Habib ben Habib emerged from the shadow of a door arch and, putting a foot on the tiled ledge of Bou-Kedj's fry shop, swung up by cranny and gutter till he stood on the plain of the housetops.