I was as old as the fingers of one hand could count on the day I went down to Beirut for the first time. My astonishment reached a great pitch when my eyes fell upon the buildings, for they seemed to me then towering things that butted the clouds, and the world, for all its spaciousness, no vaster than they. And I remember that on my return to the village that evening I told my playmates of my sweet first impressions, for the eyes of the village child in me had seen in Beirut, on that first visit, only what dazzles the eye and fills the heart with wonder and pride.

The years went by, and the ideal picture of the great city near my village stayed fixed in my imag-ination — I say "ideal" because my memory refused to let Beirut be touched by any disfigurement whatever; every corner of it was, to my eyes, clean and gleaming. Even dust — I do not recall that I saw any dust there in those days!

But no sooner had I gone out into the world, and the horizon of my life widened all at once, and I came to settle in Beirut, the enchanting bride of my fancy, than a kind of mist began to spread over the sweet picture.

Even now, whenever I recall that violent shock, my bewilderment comes back to me anew; I stand a moment before the many pictures that disfigure this city, and I ask myself: "Why should Beirut not be beautiful, as it lived in my imagination when I was a child?"

Turn with me toward this spa-cious street with its broad side-walk. Truly the municipality laid out its design well and executed that design with skill; but there, on the broad sidewalk, crouches a crippled man who has stretched out his two dead legs in the faces of the passers-by, holding out his hand with the abjectness of the broken, repeating supplication

after supplication, hour after hour and day after day... Your steps carry you far from him, and the echo of his voice stays in your ears and his image in your mind, until a small boy stops you, cut-ting across your path to keep you from advancing another step; and the first thing that astonishes you about him is — what business has this boy blocking your way? With one quick glance at his attire and the sum of his movements you can judge the matter for yourself, for such vagrant children abound in Beirut; they sow the streets, coming and going, accosting the passers-by in this fashion, trying to stir pity and mercy in their hearts.

... And here is another street, free of the parasitic creatures, and I can almost see you breathe a

sigh of relief and begin to hum a soft melody of Beethoven's — one you delight in humming whenever a wave of tranquility washes over your soul and something of ease comes upon you... But wait: this optimism of yours will not last long, for that turning ahead of us, for all its quiet and its beauty, people have not scrupled to brand with every sort of filth.

Slow your pace a little and cast your eye along the sidewalk of the long street. See how the peddlers spread out their wares, crying at the top of their voices, displaying goods of every kind and color: combs,

balloons, soap, white shoe polish, children's toys, tooth medicine, hairpins... this besides the many newspaper sellers — all of them

Jaeger

The mark that made woolen goods famous

Knitting wool

JAEGER

London

Underwear — stockings

Wool sweaters — blankets