head might sail proudly through the light,

rising above every head — while the darkness crept into my eyes, and I sank into the corner. That she might pass among the cheering crowds as they point at her with their palms, exulting: Blessed — hallowed be His name — is He who carved this figure: who wrought so finely the crystal of the breast, and the slender line of the legs, and breathed light into all He carved! And blessed — God rest his soul — is he who set up this bewitching creature in the loftiest of places! And I pass by — I... I, her father.. I, God's helper in the carving, His equal in her making.. I slip past, trivial, ordinary — even the refuse of the crowds flung along the sidewalks scarcely, scarcely feels that I exist!

And the eldest sister charged in, reclaiming her right to speak:

... And she took to planting, every day, a flower on the summit of her breast. And every day we renewed for her the soil of the planting, in exhausting errands to the dress-seller. And the shoes. And the perfumes. And the hairdresser... And her bridegroom — a clean young man who loves her — volunteered, imploring, to water the rose every day as well: with his tears at her aversion, her rebuffs, and her revenge! And with his merry smile at her softness, her weakness, and her consolations over the lost beloved...

The father started up, correcting:

For shame — the lost beloved? For shame! Did I not sit before her, as though I were the child and she the parent, giving her the choice: we are in one pan of the scales and he is in the other, and yours is the right, the absolute right and authority, to decide your own fate!...

The mother cut him off, gloating:

And did you really believe that she, in the wildness of her passion,

would choose the standard weight instead of the bag of apples in the other pan of the scales? You are naive, my friend! You are weak! And then — did she in truth choose the better? Are we in truth a rusted copper weight?

Anger flared in the father's eyes, and he took his revenge upon the mother:

And since when have parents owned the hearts of their children as they own the chairs, and the cupboards, and the plates? Since when — answer me, since when? Why did you take it upon yourself to exchange her beloved for another bridegroom?

And at that,

the little girl rushed

The Arab Insurance Company, Ltd.

Our new activity at the opening of the new year!

This is a picture of the new building our company is erecting to increase the security of our valued clients' insurance

• Life • Automobiles

• Fire • Marine and transport

• Theft • General accidents

The Arab Insurance Company, Ltd.

Head office: Allenby Street — Beirut

Telephone: 21385

P.O. Box: 2172

Branches and agents: in the principal Arab cities