immediately taken up by the singers, and they improvised a song, the burden of which was, "May his children's children dwell here in honor!"
Some graceful compliments were paid to me, with prayers for my happiness. Then the singing, of which there was a great variety, became general. We heard Egyptian love songs beautifully and plaintively sung by a gardener from the Nile, and a man of Bagdad gave us a curious ditty, jerking out his words at first, and by degrees toning them down into a languishing, drawling melody, in a minor key. The Arabs sang a great many monotonous songs; but one was very sweet—the chorus of it was, "O Bedawiya." I think that this song would please English ears generally.
Isaac, the Jew of Aleppo, was asked to dance for me. The lantern was moved out of the way. He stood up at first very shyly, the Arabs sitting round, singing and clapping their hands, keeping time. He had on very full white drawers, a black jacket, yellow and white silk striped waistcoat, and a shawl sash. Round his red tarbûsh a blue mundîl was folded. He bent his head down and raised his arms above it. By degrees his feet and hands were in slow motion in harmony with the music, and his body swayed to and fro. Soon the songs grew louder, the clapping of hands quicker, and the movements of the dancer more decided, but they were as monotonous as the tunes which inspired them. During the whole of the dance he kept within a circle of about a yard in diameter; at last he spun round and retreated, hiding himself shamefacedly behind his friends.
Supper was announced, and many of the visitors retired. Servants brought in a round stand, about five inches in hight, and covered it with dishes. While this was being arranged, my brother begged to be allowed to fetch a certain man, named Habîb, to sup there. He had once been Stephani's chief friend, but a misunderstanding had arisen between them, consequently the two most influential Chris-
