RASHID'S REVENGE We were staying with an English friend of mine--a parson, though the least parsonical of men--who had a pleasant little house in a Druze village of Mount Lebanon, and nothing to do but watch, and do his utmost to restrain, the antics of a very wealthy and eccentric lady missionary.

He had gone away for a few weeks, leaving us in possession, when another sort of clergyman arrived--a little man with long white beard, sharp nose, and pale, seraphic eyes.

He was, or fancied that he was, on duty, inspecting missionary establishments in those mountains.

The master of the house had once invited him to stay there if he passed that way.

He seemed surprised to find us in possession, and treated us as interlopers, though I was in fact his host, regarding our small dwelling as a clergy house.