loose red gown, and a scarlet cap with a yellow handkerchief twisted
round it like a turban.

At school Angoul is very attentive, both while she is reading in her
Testament, and while she is writing on her tin slate with a reed dipped
in ink. She returns home at noon through the burning sun, and comes to
school again to stay till five. Then it is cool and pleasant, and Angoul
spins by her mother's side in the lovely garden of fruit-trees before the
house. Has she not learned to sing many a sweet verse about the garden
above, and the heavenly husbandman? As she watches the budding vine, she
can think now of Him who said, "I am the true vine." As she sits beneath
the olive-tree, she can call to mind the words, "I am like a green
olive-tree in the house of my God." Angoul is growing like an angel, if
she takes delight in meditating on the word of God.[2]

[2] Extracted chiefly from the Rev. George Fisk's "Pastor's
Memorial," and Kinnear's Travels.




ARABIA.


This is the land in which the Israelites wandered for forty years. You
have heard what a dry, dreary, desert place the wilderness was. There is
still a wilderness in Arabia; and there are still wanderers in it; not
Israelites, but Arabs. These men live in tents, and go from place to
place with their large flocks of sheep and goats. But there are other
Arabs who live in towns, as we do.