ols. Send away these priests. Tell my brother Antonius
to come here, I want to ask his forgiveness." Yanni came. Ishoc said to
him, "Brother, your kindness and patience have broken me down. You are
right and I am wrong. I am going to die. Will you forgive me?" "Yes, and
may God forgive and bless you too." "Then bring your Bible and read to
me. Read about some _great_ sinner who was saved." Yanni read about the
dying thief on the cross. "Read it again! Ah, that is my case! I am the
chief of sinners." Every day he kept Yanni reading and praying with him.
He loved to talk about Jesus and at length died trusting in the Saviour!
The uncle Michaiel, was also taken ill, and on his death-bed would have
neither priest nor pictures, and declared to all the people that he
trusted only in the Saviour whom Yanni had loved and served so well.
After that Im Antonius was softened and now she loves to hear Yanni read
the Bible and pray.

The servant is coming with sherbet and sweetmeats and Arabic coffee in
little cups as large as an egg-shell. Did you notice how the marble
floors shine! They are scrubbed and polished, and kept clean by the
industrious women whom you see so gorgeously dressed now. These good
ladies belong to the Akabir, or aristocracy of Tripoli, but they work
most faithfully in their housekeeping duties. But alas, they can neither
read nor write! And there is hardly a woman in this whole city of 16,000
people that can read or write! I once attended a company of invited
guests at one of the wealthy houses in Tripoli, and there were thirty
Tripolitan ladies in the large room, dressed in the most elegant style.
I think you never saw such magnificence. They were dressed in silks and
satins and velvets, embroidered with gold thread and pearls, and their
arms and necks were loaded with gold bracelets and necklaces set with
precious stones, and on their heads were wreaths of gold and silver work
sparkling with diamonds, and fragrant with fresh orange blossoms and
jessamine. Many of them were beautiful. But not one of them could read.
The little boys and girls too are dressed in the same rich style among
the wealthier classes, and they are now beginning to learn. Many of the
little girls who were taught in Sadi's school here thirteen years ago,
are now heads of families, and know how to read the gospel.

Ibrahim comes in to say that we must hurry off if we would reach Halba
to sleep to-night. So we bid Yanni's family good-bye.