Before the First World War a society was formed in Beirut under the name of "the Tuberculosis Sanatorium Society," its object being to establish a sanatorium for consumptives where they would find the necessary care and by means of which they would be isolated from their surroundings, to prevent the spread of contagion. This society collected donations and held benefit gatherings until a sum of money had accumulated in its hands, and one of its members, the late Dr. Bishara Mansa, endowed it with a rocky plot of land on the summit of a mountain near Roumieh in the Metn, called Dahr el-Bachek, on which it erected two or three buildings and a water reservoir.

There was also a second society, named "Relief of the Destitute," whose object was to collect money to pay for the nursing of one consumptive or more in one of the sanatoriums then existing. The Great War broke out, and the societies ceased their work; a detachment of the Ottoman army came and occupied the buildings of Dahr el-Bachek, wreaking havoc and ruin in them, and did not leave them until the end of the war — and then in a condition unfit for use.

When the said war laid down its burdens, a terrible increase in cases of pulmonary tuberculosis was observed. This stirred certain zealous men and moved them to form a new society called "the Society for Combating Tuberculosis in Lebanon and Syria," its object being to fight this pestilent disease by every means. Charitable gifts and donations flowed in upon it until a sum of money not to be despised had gathered in its hands.

Efforts were then multiplied to unite these three societies and to cast them all into a single one, and

the name — repeated several times, sinking into her head and recognized by her mind — she rose as though waking from a deep dream, and breathed a sigh of relief.

She took a sheet from among the scattered papers and wrote this telegram: "I am coming to you at once, this very minute. Kisses. Give my greetings to your mother." On that desk the second letter remained, struck down, unfinished... When was all this, I wonder? On this day? Yesterday? On some day or other? And afterwards she took the vain, lying pages and

the sealed envelope and tore them to shreds... And then she gave way, and began to weep bitterly, quietly, with lamenta-tion... sighing and moan-ing, gasping and sobbing from her depths like the weeping of children... She was weeping for herself... And she murmured with trembling, whitened lips, in a faint, burning voice: "I thank Thee, my God, I thank Thee." Her beloved, to whom she had been writing the second letter, was dead!! And her only son remained alive.

From the French — Layla Hamada

despite the many obstacles that stood in the way of this union, the efforts succeeded in 1924 in merging these societies into one society, which took as its name "the Society of the Tuberculosis Sanatorium and the Combating of Tuberculosis in Syria and Lebanon"; the name was afterwards shortened, becoming "the Anti-Tuberculosis Society — Dahr el-Bachek Sanatorium."

This society has made mighty efforts: it has erected more than twelve buildings, complete with every condition of comfort and well-being; it has transformed that barren summit into verdant gardens, brought water and electricity to it, connected it with numerous telephone installations, and acquired a motorcar that carries the sanatorium its supplies and secures transportation for those residing in it.

The national sanatorium of Dahr el-Bachek shelters within its walls some two hundred souls — patients, nurses, and servants — and every means of comfort and peace of mind has been provided there for all.

The society has made it a custom to hold an annual celebration at the sanatorium, timed around the beginning of the new year, at which speeches are delivered and gifts of clothing and sweets are distributed to the residents of the sanatorium. This year the society did not depart from its accustomed practice: it held the said celebration in the assembly hall of the sanatorium, where Dr. Nahw delivered a kindly address to the patients, and Dr. Shehadeh recited verses in which he described the problems of peace; and the writer of these lines spoke in the name of the society, offering the patients his good wishes for the season and citing some useful statistics. He was followed by two of the patients, who spoke in the name of their comrades, praising the society and thanking it for its kindness and tenderness.

It is the custom in Jamaica to invite some great man to preside over wedding celebrations. The great man begins by telling a long story about a beautiful princess who refused all who sought her hand out of greed for her money; and the great man pauses between one sentence and the next, and during these pauses the guests present him with money. He ends the story when he has finished taking possession of whatever money the guests have with them... And at the end of the celebration he undertakes to present the money to the bride as a gift on the occasion of her wedding, whereupon she in turn offers him a glass of drink!

• The largest city in the British Empire is London, and after it comes Calcutta.

• Goethe, the great German poet, says that the woman who made of him a great man of far-flung fame was Charlotte Ive: she taught him what love is when she forsook him at the outset of his life, and preferred to him his friend Kestner, who always looked at life with a realistic eye stripped of imagination!

• Japanese guards forbid dogs to enter the island of Shiro, which foreigners have named the island of the safe cats.