less fanciful. A boy is named after an ancestor, or a saint, or a hero of history, or by some name of religious signification such as Abdallah (servant of God). The possession of two names is less common among the Arabs than among the Turks, who, in addition to names such as those indicated, have commonly a second for ordinary use, such as Shereef (Noble), Selim (Healthful), Aziz (Rare), Fareed (Unique), Hassan (Beautiful). Among the Arabs fanciful names for boys are more common than among the Christians. The childhood name, however, soon gives place to another, both among men and women. Parenthood is so important that after the birth of the first boy-" Mahmoud," let us supposethe parents, who may be Ali and Ayesha, become simply AbuMahmoud and Umm-Mahmoud, the father and mother of the child in question. If the boy dies the name is quite likely to remain, even after the birth of other children. I even knew an Umm-Daood who has never had a boy at all, but who explained somewhat sadly that if Allah had been pleased to give her a son, he would have been Daood (David). One does not find such a name as Johnson, but Abu Jirius (the father of John), though such a form is found in an explanatory sense such as Mousa ibn Issa (Moses the son of Jesus), used in distinction from some other Mousa. Beni, the plural of ibn (son), is used collectively. A tribe is spoken of as beni Adwan, beni Israel, beni Aneese, and so on. In the Bible we have such phrases as Father of Lights, for God, and Father of Lies, for the devil. A certain European inhabitant of the Holy City was humorously known as the Father of Promises. Among Christians and Muslims alike, a child regarded as the special gift of God may be called in consequence Atallah or Jadallah (God is good). One finds also such names as Rabia (the spring-grass), Eed (the feast), Saeed or Ma'sud (may he be happy). Hamise (the fifth day) denotes that a child was born on a Thursday, Jumma on a Friday. Names such as Tewfik (good luck) are avoided should there have been any misfortune in the family, any reason for fearing the attention of the unseen. Just as Jews who have lost children will call a new one by some term of contempt, such as Makt'ah (which means "forsaken "), so the bedu will name a weakly child Solubby. The "solubby" are tinkers, greatly despised, and not recognised by the bedu, though they are desert-dwellers like themselves, and live largely by hunting; but they ride asses instead of camels, and have no cattle. Azrael would surely pass by a child bearing a name of such origin, even if found in the tent of a superior race. A doctor once told me of a patient about to submit to an operation who was renamed Mercada (bought with prayer). Mar Saba, the saint Saba, is usualy depicted with a white beard of great length and a generally venerable appearance. I once saw a child named after him in hope of correcting the fact that it had been born weakly. One may direct the attention of folk-lorists and other students of animism to the many names of animals used by the various inhabitants of Palestine-Dieb (wolf), Saka (falcon), Shibli (my little lion), Nimr (leopard), Jamal (camel), and so on. The usual explanation is that the Powers of Evil would surely not molest a mere animal, and that it is safe to speak such names under any circumstances, just as the Hebridean, away from his beloved island home, will call it for safety by some other name. I have also been assured that the giving of such names is an act of humiliation before the Powers. There seems also some idea of the utility of introducing a new element into the family. It is, in general, "good." Syria and Palestine, with their mixed peoples and faiths, are a happy field for students of totemism, in spite of the astral character of the Semitic religions. Animals also have names, though seldom those belonging to human beings. Dogs are often called Max, or Jock, or Bobby, but that merely denotes contact with the frenjy. Sheep and donkeys answer to their individual names and calls, and understand the orders to come, to go, to lie down, etc. Dogs have often nicknames in allusion to some personal peculiarity. A longhaired cat, for instance, is "father of hair." Among my dog friends I can remember Abu thail (father of a tail), Umm sinnam (mother of teeth), Safedi (who came from Safed), and Turi (from et Tur), also Sowan, Nuzzan, Waddan, Rushdan, the mothers having been Sowa, Wadda, and so on. Now Sowa is an Arabian goddess and Wadda an Arabian god, facts of which the paganhating proprietors, who happened to be bedu, were certainly ignorant. Among the Roman Catholic population it is increasingly the custom to register, and even to use, the family name, probably for religious reasons, as giving more prominence to the baptismal name. Among the Greeks such registers are kept with little care. A tradesman may put up his surname over a shop, but is seldom known by it. The absence of family names leads to complications. One may know two brothers for long without being aware that they are related. A help in this direction is afforded by the fact that many members of a family, with their wives and children, often live under the same roof in patriarchal fashion. This, however, obtains among Christians mainly in so far that the head of the family, be he father or uncle, formerly made himself responsible for the unmarried women or widows related to him. But this is passing away, and the destitute woman, formerly unknown, has now to be provided for. CHAPTER V ABOUT LIFE IN THE VILLAGES. THE STORY OF ALIA Dieux-gardiens des troupeaux qui tenez des houlettes -COMTESSE DE NOAILLES. DURING the early days of the War a good many people of all sorts came to our house seeking benefits of various kinds. So many men were absent as soldiers that, as in all countries, women were looking for work who had never worked before, or who had worked under very different conditions; and talking with them, one entered into their lives and their thoughts in unlooked-for ways. There was a fellaha woman named Alia, of whom I knew that she was honest, active, helpful to others, never complaining, finding the most wonderful ways of earning a few piastres rather than ask for help. She was more than half-blind; her clothing, once of superior quality, the embroidered dress and veil of the betterclass fellaha, was in rags, and she had neither the sight nor the means to have it repaired. She came one day with a few roots of wild flowers for sale: she knew we loved our garden and that it was gay the whole year round, and that even now we had flowers for the churches and hospitals. I was busy and could not attend to her at the moment. "Let her wait," said the maid, herself of the same class, but young, strong, well-fed, wellclothed. "Let her wait. She has been used to it all her life." Youth is so often cruel, insolent, hard! but the girl had lived among such women always, and she knew. Her mother was such another, her grandmother was still living. She herself had been brought up in a convent and looked forward to a different future, but her sister, also convent-bred, wore the costume of her village, smart, fresh, becoming, and expected to marry a fellah when he should come back from the War. What was this life of waiting and endurance of the fellaha women? How was it led? I resolved that Alia should teach me. She was brought in and fed and comfortably seated-she chose the floor-and she began. 66 My father Ibrahim made me, and seven months afterwards he died. He had had four wives, two were living. My mother had four of us to bring up, two boys and two girls-Abdallah and Saad, and Miriam and me. We all lived in the house of my father's brother Jeda'allah, and he was well-off. After I was born, my step-brother Khaleel and his mother wished to drive my mother away. Her husband's brother, my uncle, had not claimed the right to give her again in marriage, and so rid himself of the care of her and perhaps of us all. He was the servant of God, and he said, 'Between me and the fire I make an amulet, not to take you away from your children,' and so she had the right to stay, and he cared for us all." I asked, "What sort of an amulet, Alia? " "It was only words, just as if I owed you a medjidi and you should say,' Because you are poor and cannot pay me, I make an amulet between me and the fire, or the earth, or the sky, that I will not ask it of you.' It concerned nobody else, and no man needed to come in. The sky and the fire and the earth are blessed things to mention. Such things as an amulet like this are pleasing to Allah. My uncle was a good man and not poor, and he would not do an evil thing for money. They had bees, and goats, and camels, and donkeys, and sheep, and cows. But my mother was so badly treated by the other wife and her son, for she was very young and could not protect herself, that after a time she left me to the care of my elder sister Miriam, and went back to her own home, my uncle's house, her brother. But all the time she thought she heard her children crying for her, and after eight months she went to the Muchtar (the head of the affairs of the village) and told him how it was, and said 'Be you the judge.' So the Muchtar divided the property, giving equally to the two boys, and he saw that we-the women-got ours, and then my father's brother Jeda'allah, seeing that we could not agree to eat together, my mother and her children with the other woman and her son, gave us rooms apart in his house." "Then it was a large house, Alia?" "Yes, my father's brother was the Shech of the village, and he was a man whose hand was always open. He was always giving. He had the largest bâtias (trays on which the food is served) and was always glad when visitors came to eat with him. My father Ibrahim and he used often to quarrel, and my uncle would tell him to go and get a house for himself elsewhere, and |