ively beamed when he
brought it. He has another kind he is making now--of pounded beans, or
something like that. Listen!" I listened.

From back in the kitchen came a sound of hammering and Tufik's voice
lifted in a low, plaintive chant. "He says that song is about the
valleys of Lebanon," said Tish miserably. "Lizzie, if you'll eat half of
it, I'll eat the rest."

My answer was to pick up the plate and carry it into the bathroom.
Heroic measures were necessary: Tish was not her resolute self; and,
indeed, through all the episode of Tufik, and the shocking denouement
that followed, Tish was a spineless individual who swayed to and fro
with every breeze.

She divined my purpose and followed me to the bathroom door.

"Leave some crumbs on the plate!" she whispered. "It will look more
natural. Get rid of the toast too."

I turned and faced her, the empty plate in my hands.

"Tish," I said sternly, "this is hypocrisy, which is just next door to
lying. It's the first step downward. I have a feeling that this boy is
demoralizing us! We shall have to get rid of him."

"As for instance?" she sarcastically asked.

"Send him back home," I said with firmness. "He doesn't belong here; he
isn't accustomed to anything faster than a camel. He doesn't know how to
work--none of them do. He comes from a country where they can eat food
like this because digestion is one of their occupations."

I was right and Tish knew it. Even Tufik was satisfied when we put it up
to him. He spread his hands in his Oriental way and shrugged his
shoulders.

"If my mothers think best," he said softly. "In my own land Tufik is
known--I sell in the bazaar the so fine lace my sister make. I drink
wine, not water. My stomach--I cannot eat in this America. But--I have
no money."

"We will furnish the money," Tish said gently. "But you must promise one
thing, Tufik. You must not become a Mohammedan."

"Before that I die!" he said proudly.

"And--there is something else, Tufik,--something rather personal. But I
want you to promise. You are only a boy; but when you are a man--" Tish
stopped and looked to me for help.

"Miss Tish means this," I put in, "you are to have only one wife, Tufik.
We are not sending you back to start a harem. We--we disapprove strongly
of--er--anything like that."

"Tufik takes but one wife," he said. "Our people--we have but one wife.
My first child--it is called Tish; my next, Lizzie; and my next, Aggie
Pilk. All for