said, "do not fear, my child. You are
among friends. Do not be afraid of people who have threatened you. No
one shall harm you." The Moslem Kadi, the Greek Catholic priests, and
others having thus spoken kindly to her, the father and mother stated
the history of how the little girl was lost nine years ago, and that she
had a scar on her breast. The scar was examined, and all began to feel
that she was really their own daughter. The girl began to feel more
calm, and the Kadi told her that her own mother wanted to ask her a few
questions.

Her mother now went up to her and said, "My child, don't you remember
me?" She said "no I do not." "Don't you remember that _your name was
once Zahidy_, and I used to call you, and you lived in a house with a
little yard, and flowers before the door, and that you went with the
little girls to school, and came home at night, and that one day a man
came and offered you sugar plums and led you away and carried you off to
the Arabs? Don't you know _me_, my _own daughter_?" The poor girl
trembled; her lips quivered, and she said, "Yes, I _did_ have another
name. I _was_ Zahidy. I did go with little girls. Oh, ya imme! My
mother! you _are_ my mother," and she sprang into her arms and wept, and
the mother wept and laughed, and the Moslem Kadi and the Mufti, and the
priests and the Bishops and the Effendis and the great crowd of
spectators wiped their eyes, and bowed their heads, and there was a
great silence.

After a little the Kadi said, "it is enough. This girl _is_ the daughter
of Kahlil Ferah. Sir, take your child, and Allah be with you!"

The father wiped away the tears and said, "Your Excellency, you see this
poor girl all tattooed and disfigured. You see how ignorant and feeble
she is. If she were not my child, there is nothing about her to make me
wish to take her. But she is my own darling child, and with all her
faults and infirmities, I love her." The whole Council then arose and
congratulated the father and mother, and a great crowd accompanied them
home. Throngs of people came to see her and congratulate the family, and
after a little the girl was sent to a boarding school.

I can hardly think over this story even now without tears, for I think
how glad I should have been to get back again a child of mine if it had
been lost. And I have another thought too about that little lost girl.
If that father loved his daughter so as to search and seek for her, and
expend money, and t