“’ Why didn’t you take time t’ _look_?’ says I. ‘Oh, Jowl! _why_ didn’t you take time?’ “‘T’ look?’ says he. “‘Dear God!’ “‘What you sayin’ that for, Tumm?’ says he. ‘What you mean, Tumm? ... My God!’ says he, ‘what is I gone an’ done? Who _was_ that, Tumm? My God! Tell me! What is I done?’ “I couldn’t find no words t’ tell un. “‘Oh, make haste,’ says he, ‘afore I drifts away!’ “‘Dear God!’ says I, ‘’twas Toby!’ “An’ he fell flat on the ice....An’ I didn’t see Jowl no more for four year. He was settled at Mad Tom’s Harbor then, where you seed un t’-day; an’ his wife was dead, an’ he didn’t go no more t’ the Labrador, nor t’ the ice, but fished the Mad Tom grounds with hook-an’-line on quiet days, an’ was turned timid, they said, with fear o’ the sea....” * * * * * The _Good Samaritan_ ran softly through the slow, sleepy sea, bound across the bay to trade the ports of the shore. “I tells you, sir,” Tumm burst out, “’tis hell. _Life_ is! Maybe not where you hails from, sir; but ’tis on this coast. I ’low where you comes from they don’t take lives t’ save their own?” “Not to save their own,” said I. He did not understand. III—THE MINSTREL Salim Awad, poet, was the son of Tanous—that orator. Having now lost at love, he lay disconsolate on his pallet in the tenement overlooking the soap factory. He would not answer any voice; nor would he heed the gentle tap and call of old Khalil Khayyat, the tutor of his muse; nor would he yield his sorrow to the music of Nageeb Fiani, called the greatest player in all the world. For three hours Fiani, in the wail and sigh of his violin, had expressed the woe of love through the key-hole; but Salim Awad was not moved. No; the poet continued in desolation through the darkness of that night, and through the slow, grimy, unfeeling hours of day. He dwelt upon Haleema, Khouri’s daughter—she (as he thought) of the tresses of night, the beautiful one. Salim was in despair because this Haleema had chosen to wed Jimmie Brady, the truckman. She loved strength more than the uplifted spirit; and this maidens may do, as Salim knew, without reproach or injury.