their pipes,
proceeded to open their stores, and while doing so, they uttered this
prayer, "Bismillah ir ruhman ir raheem" ("In the name of God, the most
merciful").

Peasant women came up, carrying on their heads large brown circular
baskets, made of twigs, about eight inches deep, filled with tempting
fruits and salads. It was wonderful how well they balanced them, for
they were walking erect, and very briskly, without holding them.
Stopping under the window, they took the baskets off their heads, and
placed them on the ground, sat down with their backs against the wall,
and put them in front of them for sale. They looked picturesque in their
long dark blue gowns, red silk girdles, wide open sleeves displaying
their arms, adorned with bracelets and armlets.

Another young peasant woman came up, not only with a basket of fruit on
her head, but a baby dangling in a hammock down her back. This hammock
is an oblong piece of red and white striped coarse cloth, made out of
camel's hair. She placed her basket alongside of the others, and took
out her baby. Soon the baskets were surrounded by eager customers, who
had to stoop down in order to pick out what they wanted. The baby
meanwhile fell asleep, and the mother, finding it an incumbrance while
serving her customers, placed it again in its hammock, on which she had
been sitting, and hung it up on the door of one of the neighboring
stores.

People passed to and fro, jostling each other as the passers increased;
the street looked lively and gay with such a variety of costumes. Among
them were several figures walking slowly along; they were enveloped in
white sheets from head to foot, their faces covered with thick colored
veils, so that it is impossible to distinguish the person. They were
Oriental city women. An Oriental city woman never hurries through the
streets, as that would be considered an impropriety.

THE WONDERFUL NEST.

BY MARGARET EYTINGE.

Oh! the beautiful bright summer,
Ev'rywhere wild flowers springing;
Honeysuckles to the roses
All day long sweet kisses flinging.
Brooklets sparkling through the meadows,
Humming-birds their glad way winging
With gold-brown bees and butterflies
Where lily-bells are ringing,
Ringing, ringing--
Where lily-bells are ringing.

Sunbeams on the greensward dancing,
Gentle breezes perfume bringing;
In the cedar-tree five birdies
To their wee nest closely clinging;
Peeping ov