stopped at the house of a man said to be a Protestant. He lived in the
most abject style, and I soon found by his bad language towards his
family and his neighbors that he needed all the preaching I could give
him that evening. There was only one room in the house, and that was
small. By nine o'clock the mother and the children had lain down on a
mat to sleep, and the neighbors who came in were beginning to doze. I
was very weary with a long ride on a hot August day, and asked mine host
where I should lie down to sleep. He led me to a little elevated
platform on the back side of the room, where a bed was spread for me.
The dim oil lamp showed me that the bed and covering were neither of
them clean, but I was too weary to spend much time in examining them,
and after spreading my linen handkerchief over the pillow, I tried to
sleep. But this could not be done. Creeping things, great and small,
were crawling over me from head to foot. There was a hole in the wall
near my head, and the bright moonlight showed what was going on. Fleas,
bugs, ants, (attracted by the bread in my khurj,) and more horrible
still, swarms of lice covered the bed, and my clothing. I could stand it
no longer. Gathering up my things, and walking carefully across the
floor to keep from stepping on the sleeping family, I reached the door.
But it was fastened with an Arab lock and a huge wooden key, and could
only be opened by a violent shaking and rattling. This, with the
creaking of the hinges, woke up my host, who sprung up to see what was
the matter. I told him I had decided to journey on by moonlight. It was
then one o'clock in the morning, and on I rode, so weary, that when I
reached Jebaa at ten o'clock, I was obliged to go to bed. I did not
recover from the onset of the vermin for weeks.

I have known missionaries to travel without beds, tents or bedsteads,
and to spend weary days and sleepless nights, so as to be quite unfitted
for their great work of preaching to the people. If you ever grow up to