"Thnoud el-thett!"

And the two men would laugh long, and my father would put the question to me a second and a third time, insisting that I answer him in a louder voice and a firmer tone: — "Thnoud el-thett!"

And the knight of the white jacket would disappear, with my father's voice in my ear:

— "You rascal! Your taste is just like your father's.. there is nothing tastier than the znoud of the ladies!!"

I do not know how my stomach found room for the whole contents of the plate... I would devour piece after piece, and my father would scold me, half reproaching, half teasing: Why, you rogue, don't you eat with this appetite the potatoes and meat and vegetables and apples that Mama sets before you?

•

... Here the tram's arrival at the station roused me; I jumped down lightly and crossed the street, making for the school. As usual my gaze caught on the English and Arabic magazines ranged along the sidewalk, loud of color and loud of picture — the kind that draws the older students. As for me, I still prefer reading "Dunya al-Ahdath" and "Sindbad" when the postman brings them to me; it is noontime and we are at table, and I hurry through my lunch so as to leaf through them and learn what has become of my friends "Zarzour" and "Zouzou" — and were the choice left to me, I would not hesitate to leave the table and hug them to me eagerly...

And yet, for all my passion for reading, I do not find myself sad and crestfallen when the two magazines are late for some passing reason, the way I saw myself yesterday, when

the round-headed, short-necked vendor announced that the "znoud el-sett" had run out... Tomorrow I will go to him early, before the customers, and buy my portion first. Who knows — there may be big ones and little ones among them; is it fair that others should take the plump znoud oozing syrup, and leave me the sucked-dry, skinny ones? Those must be scant in their kashta filling, or perhaps have none at all!.. Tomorrow I will not lie late in bed. I will insist that my mother wake me a whole hour before time!

•

In fancies like these I passed the whole day, standing up and sitting down, eating and sleeping, studying and playing. And in composition period I do not know how the thoughts flew out of my head, and I sat staring at the subject written in elegant Persian script on the blackboard: "Your first wish in life." If only some noble thought would flash into my head — but here was one idea, and no other, entrenched and impregnable: at this hour I wished for nothing but some znoud el-sett!. What would the teacher say, I wonder, if I told him so frankly? Is there any shame in being frank?

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