it in the place
of soap. The following is another song addressed to a baby girl:

Come Cameleer, as quick as you can,
And make us soap from the green "Shenan,"
To bathe our Lulu dear;
We'll wash her and dress her,
And then we'll caress her,
She'll sleep in her little sereer. (cradle)

This song is sung by the Druze women to their baby girls:

Your eye is jet black, and dark are its lashes,
Between the arched brows, like a crescent it flashes;
When painted with "kohl" 'tis brighter by far,
Than the full-orbed moon or the morning star.

The following is supposed to be addressed by a Druze woman to her
neighbor who has a daughter of marriageable age, when she is obliged to
veil her face:

Hide your daughter, veil her face,
Neighbor, do not tarry:
For my Hanna is of age,
Says he wants to marry.
When I asked about his choice,
Said he was not needy:
But that if he ever wed,
He thought he'd like Fereedy.

The next one is also Druze and purely Oriental:

Two healths, one health,
Four healths more:
Four sacks of sesame seed,
Scattered on the floor;
Pick and count them one by one.
Reckon up their number;
For every seed wish Hassan's health.
Sweetly may he slumber!

The Druze women delight in nothing so much as to have their sons ride
fine horses:

My Yusef, my cup of sherbet sweet,
My broadcloth red hung over the street,
When you ride the blood mare with sword and pistol,
Your saddle is gold and your stirrups crystal.

Katrina says that this little song is the morning salutation to baby
boys:

Good morning now to you, Little boy!
Your face is like the dew, Little boy!
There never was a child, so merry and so mild,
So good morning once again, Little boy!

This song is sung by the Druze women to their babes:

O Sparrow of Paradise,
Hush him to sleep?
Your feathers are "henna."
Watch him and keep!
Bring sleep soft and sweet
Upon your white wings!
For Hassan the pet
And his mother who sings!

The apples of Damascus are noted throughout Syria, though we should
regard them as very poor fruit:

What's he like? If any ask us,
Flowers and apples of Damascus;
Apples fragrant on the tray,
Roses sweet with scent of May.

Laia says that the next one is sung by the Druze women to their baby
boys:

I love you