Language Awall. Butter Lemman, A. Oil Odi. Pepper Afillfill, A. Salt Teesunt. Heart Ool. Skin Illum. Foot Tishkunt. Nose Luckshum, A. Eye Teeat. Knife Oozall. Blood Eddāman. Leather Illum. Bag Takhareet. Fire Timsi. Jereed Tagareet. Milk Akhi, or Ashfai. To-morrow Teefoot. Yesterday Dullain. Month Yoor. Year Aam. Hair Zaoo. Wool Dooft. Bread Tegrāri. Flour Aruna. Go Maat. Run Azzil. Listen Sill. Brother Nitta. Sister Ootima. Stupid Williseen. Those words which I have marked with A are either Arabic, or derived from that language. The natives call their language Ertāna. Monday, February 28th. Thermometer 9°.—This morning being the first of their Spring, and a day of general rejoicing, it is the custom to dress out little tents or bowers on the tops of the houses, decorating them with carpets, jereeds, shawls, and sashes. A gaudy handkerchief on a pole, as a standard, completes the work, which is loudly cheered by the little children, who eat, drink, and play during the day in these covered places, welcoming the spring by songs, and crying continually, “O welcome spring! with pleasure bring us plenty.” The women give entertainments in their houses, and the day is quite a holiday. From the top of our house these little bowers had a very pretty effect, every roof in the town being ornamented with one. They are called Goobba. I saw this day four ears of corn perfectly ripe, which was very early for the season. The gardens here are excellent, comparatively with the others in Fezzan. They are surrounded by mud walls. Lemon trees had been lately introduced from Tripoli, and promised well, but too young to bear fruit. The dates here were very fine, and there were several sorts peculiar to Sockna. I was confined the chief part of the day to my bed with hemma. No Arab that I ever met with has any idea of sweet milk, or, more properly, cannot conceive why it is not equally good when sour. As I was unable in my weak state to eat the food of the country, I made all the exertions I could to procure sweet milk; for though a great deal was brought me, it was always sour, and when I objected to it on that account, they said, “It is but now from the ewe, we mixed it with other to make it good.” Thus they always milk their ewes, mixing the fresh and the stale milk. As I had been four days confined to my bed, and constantly longed for this beverage in its sweet state, my repeated disappointments were severe.