d near. But Aggie began to feel very strange,
and declared that the man with the sheepskin drum was winking at her and
that her head was twitching round on her shoulders. And when a dozen or
so young Syrians formed a circle, their hands on each other's shoulders,
and sang a melancholy chant, stamping to beat time, she wept with sheer
sentiment.

"Ha! Hoo! Ta, Ta, Ta!" they chanted in unison; and Tufik bent over us,
his soft eyes beaming.

"They are shepherds and the sons of shepherds from Palestine," he
whispered. "That is the shepherd's call to his sheep. In my country many
are shepherds. Perhaps some day you go with me back to my country, and
we hear the shepherd call his sheep--'Ha! Hoo! Ta, Ta, Ta!'--and we hear
the sleepy sheep reply: 'Maaaa!'"

"It is too beautiful!" murmured Aggie. "It is the Holy Land all over
again! And we should never have known this but for you, Tufik!"

Just then some one near the door clapped his hands and all the noise
ceased. Those who were standing sat down. The little girl with the broom
swept the accumulations of the room under a chair and put the broom in a
corner. The music became loud and stirring.

Aggie swayed toward me. "I'm sick, Lizzie!" she gasped. "That paregoric
stuff has poisoned me. Air!"

I took one arm and Tufik the other, and we got her out and seated on one
of the wooden steps. She was a blue-green color and the whites of her
eyes were yellow. But I had little time for Aggie. Tufik caught my hand
and pointed.

Tish's machine was coming down the alley. Beside her sat Tufik's sister,
sobbing at the top of her voice and wearing Aggie's foulard, a pair of
cotton gloves, and a lace curtain over her head. Behind in the tonneau
were her maid of honor, a young Syrian woman with a baby in her arms and
four other black-eyed children about her. But that was not all. In front
of the machine, marching slowly and with dignity, were three bearded
gentlemen, two in coats and one in a striped vest, blowing on curious
double flutes and making a shrill wailing noise. And all round were
crowds of women and children, carrying tin pans and paper bags full of
parched peas, which they were flinging with all their might.

I caught Tish's eye as the procession stopped, and she looked
subdued--almost stunned. The pipers still piped. But the bride refused
to move. Instead, her wails rose higher; and Aggie, who had paid no
attention so far, but was sitting back with her eyes shut, looked