would so far unbend as to pause at the fellaheen's camp for a native
discussion of many gestures and much loud talking.

So it was to-night. Just outside the radius of the fellaheen's
firelight, Kirby paused. For he heard Najib's shrill voice uplifted in
speech. And amusedly he halted and prepared to turn back. He had no wish
to break in upon a harangue so interesting as the speaker seemed to find
this one.

Najib's voice was pitched far above the tones of normal Eastern
conversation;--louder and more excited even than that of a professional
story-teller. In Syria it is hard to believe that these professionals
are merely telling an oft-heard Arabian Nights narrative; and not
indulging in delirium or apoplexy.

Yet at a stray word of Najib's, Kirby checked involuntarily his own
retreat; and paused again to look back. There stood Najib, in the center
of the firelit circle; hands and head in wild motion. Around him,
spell-bound, squatted the ring of his dark-faced and unwashed hearers.
The superintendent, being with his own people, was orating in pure
Arabic--or, rather, in the colloquial vernacular which is as close to
pure Arabic as one can expect to hear, except among the remoter
Bedouins.

"Thus it is!" he was declaiming. "Even as I have sought to show you, oh,
addle-witted offspring of mangy camels and one-eyed mules! In that far
country, when men are dissatisfied with their wage, they take counsel
together and they say, one unto the other: 'Lo, we shall labour no more,
unless our hire be greater and our toil hours less!' Then go they to
their sheikh or whomever he be who hath hired them, and they say to him: