by the
name of the son they might have had. But they will not call a man Aboo
Lulu or Aboo Leila. If a man has a dozen daughters he will never be
called from them. They are "nothing but girls." A queer old man in
Ghurzuz once tried to name himself from his daughter Seleemeh, but
whenever any one called him Aboo Seleemeh, all the fellaheen would laugh
as if they would explode, and the boys would shout at him "there goes
old Aboo Seleemeh," as if it were a grand joke.

The Moslems and Druzes generally give their children the old unmixed
Arabic names, but the Maronites, the Greeks, and the Protestants often
use European names. A young lady named Miss Mason was once a teacher in
the Sidon Seminary, and spent the summer in the mountain village of Deir
Mimas. One of the women of the village liked her name, and named her
daughter "Miss Mason," and if you should go there you would hear the
little urchins of Deir Mimas shouting Miss Mason! to a little
blue-gowned and tarbooshed Arab girl.

What noise is that we hear down in the village, under the great jowz
(walnut) trees by the fountain? It rolls and gurgles and growls and
bellows enough to frighten a whole village full of children. But the
little Arab boys and girls are playing around, and the women are filling
their jars at the fountain just as if nothing had happened. But it is a
frightful noise for all that. It is the bellowing of the camels as their
heavy loads are being put on. They are kneeling on the ground, with
their long necks swaying and stretching around like boa constrictors.
These camels are very useful animals, but I always like to see them at a
distance, especially in the month of February, for at that time they get
to be as "mad as a March hare." They are what the Arabs call "taish,"
and often bite men severely. In Hums one bit the whole top of a man's
head off, and in Tripoli another bit a man's hand off. I once saw a
camel "taish" in Beirut, and he was driving the whole town before him.
Wherever he came, with his tongue hanging down and a foaming froth
pouring from his mouth as he growled and bellowed through the streets,
the people would leave their shops and stools and run in dismay. It was
a frightful sight. I was riding down town, and on seeing the crowd, and
the camel coming towards me, I put spurs to my horse and rode home.

When camels are tied together in a long caravan with a little
mouse-colored donkey leading the van, ridden by a long-legged Bed