On August 13, 1799, Admiral "Dewey" with his American fleet smashed the fleet of Spain in a naval battle off the shores of the city of "Manila," and planted the American flag where he had torn up the Spanish one.

And on August 13, 1939, the city of Manila was dressed in carnival garb, celebrating the day of Admiral "Dewey's" victory; and there entered "Manila," by way of its harbor, a personage strutting and swaggering — you would have taken him for Admiral "Dewey" reincarnated, come to witness the feast held in his honor and to remember that conquest which the world had recorded for him in its history.

Had anyone shaken from the soul of Sheikh "Ajjaj Jadallah" its secrets, he would have discovered that Sheikh Ajjaj, strutting and swaggering on the pier of "Manila's" harbor, reckoned himself of higher station than Admiral "Dewey." And how not, when he was one of the Jadallah sheikhs, chieftains of the Lebanese village of "Sahtouf" — among them Sheikh Farhoud al-Abbas Jadallah, who strangled the leopard with his two hands; and Sheikh Hassoun Asaad Jadallah, who defeated Napoleon's army at Acre; and the horseman Sheikh Hawwash Jadallah, whose mare was tor-mented by thirst when water failed him, so he opened the vein of his forearm and gave her his blood to drink; and Sheikh Jadallah Jadallah, to whom a Beiruti came wishing to buy a piece of his lands to build a "hotel" upon, and Sheikh Jadallah Jadallah shouted at him that all the money of Beirut could not buy one hair from the tail of the cow of the Jadallah sheikhs — that cow which had died the year

before — and that he could uproot Beirut with one puff, grind it with one blow, and scatter it with one spit; and curses on the religion of money, which had dragged the khawajas of Beirut into the inso-lence of trying to buy the proper-ties of the sheikhs of Lebanon.

Our Sheikh Ajjaj had not come to "Manila" as a tourist nor as a conqueror. He had forsaken Lebanon when the world changed and the sons of the "common folk" grew rich, and the sheikhs' due of respect declined. The time came to pay off the mortgage on his properties, so he left Lebanon for Australia, where most of the sons of the Arabs were Beirutis who set no store by sheikhs and knew nothing of the glorious history of the Jadallah clan. Their mockery of him galled Sheikh Ajjaj, and poverty wore him down, so he boarded a steamer bound he knew not where; and when she dropped anchor at "Manila" the captain came and said, your ticket carries you as far as this city — and with your leave, "Your Majesty." Yes indeed, the passengers of that steamer had dubbed him "His Majesty," for Sheikh Ajjaj, in his gait, his talk, and his bearing, was as though he were still Sheikh Ajjaj Jadallah addressing the common folk in the village of "Sahtouf."

He shouldered his bundle of clothes and came down from the ship, and one of them called out mockingly, "Won't you have porters to carry your luggage?" As for the "taxi" drivers, they knew from his shabby clothes that he was one of the "capitalists of the wasteland," a title they bestow in the Far East on penniless whites who feed on the leavings from the tables of the anchored steamers.

And Ajjaj walked along, gazing at the finery, and at the name "Dewey" gleaming everywhere. "Who is this Admiral Dewey?" the Sheikh wondered. Perhaps one of the lucky "commoners" of the Americans. His luck was good, if he had a fleet and sailors behind him. Give the Jadallah sheikhs a fleet and sailors, and the world would see what cities they conquer. But Sheikh Ajjaj's imaginings were cut short by a hunger that began to gnaw at him, and his appetite was whetted by the sight of the restaurants crowded with food and diners. He went roaming through the city, most of it shut, until he slipped into the great street where the lights and the big stores were, and he began to feast his eyes upon the curios and the goods, until his gaze came to rest at a magnificent store with open doors. He said to himself that the shops of this city, measured against this magnificent store, were like the commoners of "Sahtouf" beside the Jadallah sheikhs. The comparison pleased him, and he walked toward the store, his steps hurried by a strange instinct which he understood when he lifted his eyes to the signboard and read "Hasib Nabhan." Could he be of the Nabhan house, the "Sahhafa"?! He peered into the store, and the sight overawed him — silks, jewels, mirrors, and treasures like those of the Thousand and One Nights, and employees in such pomp they might have been a king's retinue. But nothing daunts the Sheikh: he recovered his composure after the astonishment of the surprise and entered the store, and set his feet upon that colored tiling — whereupon a human hyena fell on him and shouted at him, meaning to drive him out, saying that the owner of the establishment was not there. That is the phrase with which they drive off white beggars. The Sheikh froze where he stood, his wits flew from him, and he knew not what to do; but a voice like a trumpet boomed from within the establishment, rebuking the servant in Spanish. Sheikh Ajjaj looked toward the source of the voice — and there was a bald pate