alms, I paid them with "_Allah deelek_!"--(God give it to you!)--the
Moslem's reply to such importunity--and they ceased in an instant. This
exclamation, it seems, takes away from them the power of demanding a
second time.

From under the Ras-el-Ain gushes forth the Fountain of Honey, so called
from the sweetness and purity of the water. We drank of it, and I found
the taste very agreeable, but my companion declared that it had an
unpleasant woolly flavor. When we climbed a little higher, we found that
the true source from which the fountain is supplied was above, and that an
Arab was washing a flock of sheep in it! We continued our walk along the
side of the mountain to the other end of the city, through gardens of
almond, apricot, prune, and walnut-trees, bound each to each by great
vines, whose heavy arms they seemed barely able to support. The interior
of the town is dark and filthy; but it has a long, busy bazaar extending
its whole length, and a café, where we procured the best coffee in Syria.

Nablous is noted for the existence of a small remnant of the ancient
Samaritans. The stock has gradually dwindled away, and amounts to only
forty families, containing little more than a hundred and fifty
individuals. They live in a particular quarter of the city, and are
easily distinguished from the other inhabitants by the cast of their
features. After our guide, a native of Nablous, had pointed out three or
four, I had no difficulty in recognising all the others we met. They have
long, but not prominent noses, like the Jews; small, oblong eyes, narrow
lips, and fair complexions, most of them having brown hair. They appear to
be held in considerable obloquy by the Moslems. Our attendant, who was of
the low class of Arabs, took the boys we met very unceremoniously by the
head, calling out: "Here is another Samaritan!" He then conducted us to
their synagogue, to see the celebrated Pentateuch, which is there