, so that all the Russian
steamers going to Beirut will be in quarantine. It will not be pleasant
to spend a week in the Beirut quarantine, so we will keep our baggage
animals and go down by land. It is two long days of nine hours each, and
you will be weary enough. Bidding good-bye to our dear friends here and
wishing them God's blessing in their difficult work among such people,
away we go! Yanni and Uncle S. and some of the teachers will accompany
us a little way, according to the Eastern custom, and then we dismount
and kiss them all on both cheeks, and pursue our monotonous way along
the coast, sometimes riding over rocky capes and promontories and then
on the sand and pebbles close to the roaring surf.

See how many monasteries there are on the sides of Lebanon! Between
Tripoli and Beirut there are about a hundred. The men who live in them
are called monks, who make a vow never to marry, and spend their lives
eating and drinking the fruits of other men's labors. They own almost
all the valuable land in this range of mountains for fifty miles, and
the fellaheen live as "tenants at will" on their estates. When a man is
lazy or unfortunate, if he is not married, his first thought is to
become a monk. They are the most corrupt and worthless vagabonds in the
land, and the day must come before long, when the monasteries and
convents will be abolished and their property be given back to the
people to whom it justly belongs.

We are now riding along by the telegraph wires. It seems strange to see
Morse's telegraph on this old Phenician coast, and it will seem stranger
still when we reach Beirut, to receive a daily morning paper printed in
Arabic, with telegrams from all parts of the world!

In July, a woman came to the telegraph office in Beirut, asking, "Where
is the telegraph?" The Clerk, Yusef Effendi, asked her, "Whom do you
want, the Director, the Operator, or the Kawass?" She said, "I want
Telegraph himself, for my husband has sent me word that he is in prison
in Zahleh and wants me to come with haste, and I heard that Telegraph
takes people quicker than any one else. Please tell me the fare, and
send me as soon as possible!" The Effendi looked at her, and took her
measure, and then said, "You are too tall to go by telegraph, so you
will have to go on a mule." The poor ignorant woman went away greatly
disappointed.

Another old woman, whose son was drafted into the Turkish army, wished
to send him a pair of new