ssinette ever swung more evenly, and no soft draperies made a better
cot than the sheet tied up by the corners to a couple of ropes, and
swung across the room like a hammock. The beauty of it was that,
roll as he would, even active Hamed had been safe in it, and all his
energies only served to rock him off to sleep again, for the sides
almost met at the top. Yet he was by no means dull, for through a hole
opposite his eye he could watch the cows and goats and sheep as they
wandered about the yard, not to speak of the cocks and hens that
roamed all over the place.

At last the time came when both the wee ones could toddle, and Ayeshah
carried them no more to the fields astride her hips or slung over her
shoulders in a towel. They were then left to disport themselves
as they pleased--which, of course, meant rolling about on the
ground,--their garments tied up under their arms, leaving them bare
from the waist. No wonder that sitting on cold and wet stones had
threatened to shrivel up their thin legs, which looked wonderfully
shaky at best.

It seems to be a maxim among the Moors that neither head, arms nor
legs suffer in any way from exposure to cold or heat, and the mothers
of the poorer classes think nothing of carrying their children slung
across their backs with their little bare pates exposed to the sun and
rain, or of allowing their lower limbs to become numbed with cold as
just described. The sole recommendation of such a system is that only
the fittest--in a certain sense--survive. Of the attention supposed to
be bestowed in a greater or less degree upon all babes in our own land
they get little. One result, however, is satisfactory, for they early
give up yelling, as an amusement which does not pay, and no one is
troubled to march them up and down for hours when teething. Yet it is
hardly surprising that under such conditions infant mortality is
very great, and, indeed, all through life in this doctorless land
astonishing numbers are carried off by diseases we should hardly
consider dangerous.

Beyond the much-enjoyed dandle on Father's knee, or the cuddle with
Mother, delights are few in Moorish child-life, and of toys such as we
have they know nothing, whatever they may find to take their place.
But when a boy is old enough to amuse himself, there is no end to the
mischief and fun he will contrive, and the lads of Barbary are as fond
of their games as we of ours. You may see them racing about after
school h