The rattle of wagons is not heard in those roofed streets, but donkeys and camels quietly make their way through the crowd, not caring whether a person is stepped upon or not. A missionary to the Jews, from London, England, made the acquaintance of our party, and through his kindness we were permitted to visit some of the best private houses in the city. Space will not allow me to tell you what was seen there, but before leaving the city of Damascus I want to tell you about the man who is in the picture. He is a water seller who goes along the streets selling water to those who desire a drink. Do you see the cup in his outstretched hand? And there upon his back is the leather bottle which holds the water. When walking along he calls out in loud tones, “Let him that is athirst come and drink;” and then comes a great noise from the knocking together of the tin cups. I do not know whether the man sells much water or not, for we did not stand still long enough for us to watch him. Many years ago a great many Christians lived in Damascus, but the Moslems burned a portion of the city in which they lived, and thousands were put to death. The Christian population is now on the increase, and there is safety on the streets of Damascus for all Christian people. Missionaries have worked faithfully, scattering the good seed there. May the old and young alike pray the Lord to bless all efforts for good; and, little children, may the Lord help you all to get the missionary spirit, so that some day you may go forth and battle for the right. CHAPTER XII. _Farewell to Damascus.—Ain Fijeh.—Quarrelsome Arabs.—Onward to Baalbek.—A Friendly Arab Family.—On the Mountains of Lebanon.—Baalbek.—Rejected Stone.—From Baalbek to Beyrut.—My Horse John.—Homeward Bound._ Adieu was said to Damascus with its mosques, bazaars, orchards and winding streams. We left it never expecting to look again upon the city which the natives call “paradise on earth.” The day was delightful, and the scenery along the greater part of the way was quite different from that which we had been accustomed to seeing. The grass was beautifully green, and fruit trees were in splendid condition. The swift-flowing river was, in a measure, instrumental in clothing the trees with foliage and giving the grass its beautiful verdure; but behind all the hand of the Lord was seen. Noontime came, and we rested not far from a small village called Ain Fijeh, very close to a fountain with the same name. Many years ago a temple stood at that place and people went there to worship. Now it is in ruins, but even yet many Mohammedans go there. While we stood by looking at them, they bowed down on their faces, saying aloud their studied prayers. A great body of water gushed out of a cave near by. It went dashing and splashing along a few yards, then joined a small branch, when the two made one river.