Harper's Young People, January 25, 1881. Various

about the little Arab boys who are being educated and taken care of by the Missionary Brothers.

      The Arabs, as I have said, love their boys very much indeed, but some families are so wretchedly poor that they have to dispose of the boys as well as the girls, when there are too many of them.

      The Brothers, when they pick them up or buy them, teach them to read and write, and to till the ground, so that they may become farmers.

      The Missionary Sisters teach the girls to read and write, to do plain sewing and house-work.

      The work of the missions does not stop when the children have grown to be men and women; they are then allowed to visit each other socially under proper supervision. If a young couple fall in love with each other, and wish to marry, the consent of the Superior is asked, and given; for she knows the youth has been well brought up, and is worthy to have her young charge for a wife.

      In speaking of these weddings, which are quite festive occasions, little Maria Immanuel recently said to a lady, in her lively French, which I will translate: "I do love to have weddings going on, we have such a good time. Oh, the music! it is fine; and then there is such feasting!"

      No wonder she laid such stress on feasting, for the mission people live only on the very plainest fare, never seeing butter, meat, or any of the delicacies American children have every day.

      At weddings – and they generally manage to have them double, triple, or quadruple weddings – I suppose they have fruit and honey and other fine dishes for the great occasion.

      To each newly married couple a house, an inclosed acre of land, a horse, an ass, and a pair of goats are given; also some farming implements; six each of dishes and bowls, knives and wooden spoons; a bed; and the few other necessaries for simple housekeeping.

      They now commence life as farmers, and, what is still better, as Christian young people. Already two Christian Arab villages have sprung up on the desert, while a third is being built.

      Are the young fathers and mothers sorry when a dear little girl baby comes into the world? No, they are glad, and love it tenderly, as you may tell by this little nursery song here translated. I wish I could give you the wild, sweet music too. Listen – a young Arab mother sings:

      "Come, Cameleer, as quick as you can,

      And make us some soap from green Shenan,

      To bathe our Lûlû dear;

      We'll wash her and dress her,

      And then we'll caress her:

      She'll sleep in her little screer."1

      LUCKY TOM'S SHADOW; OR, THE SEA-GULLS' WARNING

BY FRANK H. TAYLOR

      "Be still, Meg, be still. Don't trouble me. Go and play. Young 'uns like you are good for naught else;" and so saying, Meg's grandmother turned fretfully toward the window of the cottage, and resumed her listless watching of the sea-gulls across the inlet, as they fluttered, dipped, and arose over the wavelets, picking their dinner from the shoals of little fish the mackerel had chased inshore.

      "But I'm of some use, granny; you said so yesterday, when I fetched the blueberries. An' I'll go fur some more if you like. I know where there's lots of 'em – acres of 'em."