ation, but the man pleaded poverty, and because I was the cause
of her plight I felt in duty bound to support her until she died some
months later.

Another man of more than fifty years carried the wife of his youth to
our dispensary on his back. She was suffering from Bright's disease and
ascites, yet he toiled on and till now has shown no sign of wavering in
his allegiance. Warm-hearted, courteous, and kind, I look upon him as
one of nature's noblemen whom even Mohammedanism cannot spoil.

Another man whose wife had an ovarian tumor brought her down from
Hodeidah for me to operate on, and faithfully attended to all her wants
while she was ill, and at last when the wound caused by operation was
healed, took her home joyfully as a bridegroom takes home the bride of
his choice.

A third man, who had either two or three wives at the time, called me to
see one who had been in labor for six days. When the Arab midwives
confessed that they could do nothing more for her and when he saw her
sinking, love triumphed over prejudice, and he came hurriedly for me. I
performed a Caesarean section, and so earned the gratitude of both
husband and wife, who, though years have gone, still take a warm
interest in all that concerns the mission.

I wish, however, that I could say that cases like these were common
experiences with me, but unfortunately the reverse is the case. Men seem
always ashamed to speak of their wives and when wanting medicine for
them or me to visit them always speak of them as, "my family"--"the
mother of my children"--"my uncle's daughters," or like circumlocution.
Once I boxed a boy's ears for speaking of his own mother as his
"father's cow!"

Brought up in ignorance, unable to read, write, sew, or do fancy
work--in all my experience out here I have never known of a real Arab
girl being sent to school nor a real Arab woman who knew the alphabet.
Sold at a marriageable age, in many cases to the highest bidder, then
kept closely secluded in the house, is it any wonder that her health is
undermined and when brought to child-bed there is no strength left?

Called one day to see a Somali woman I missed the whip usually seen in a
Somali's house, and jokingly asked how her husband managed to keep her
in order without a whip. She, taking her husband and me by the hand,
said, "You are my father and this is my husband. Love unites us, and
where love is there is no need for whips."

I was so pleased with her speech t