"O-ar! o-ar! derak! derak!" "See that solemn old camel," said Esther. "He is laden with stones. They must be very heavy. Poor old fellow! I don't blame him for growling at his master for trying to hurry him up." "His growl rattles so, it seems to come from his inmost stomach," said the mother, laughingly. "Baksheesh! baksheesh!" yelled a beggar sitting cross-legged against the wall of a house. The man was ragged and dirty. He held a tin pail before him. Kind-hearted people had dropped money, fruit, and vegetables into it as they passed by. "There are many poor people of our own faith here in the city," said Esther's mother, as they went on their way. "They really suffer for lack of food. That man is a Turk. It may be that he is really as poor as he looks, and needs all the help he can get. But it is quite possible he has a comfortable home, and only begs because it is an easy way of getting a living." "Look, mamma, at that woman of Bethlehem," said Miriam. "I know her by the dress." Miriam pointed to the dark blue robe. Stripes of bright red, mixed with gold, reached down the sides. The sleeves were large and long, and trimmed in the same way. The woman's white veil hung down from a tall cap. "How heavy her cap must be," said Esther. "It is like a crown." "All the coins she owns are sewed on her cap," answered the mother. "It tells every one just how rich she is." "I don't see how she does her work if she wears that robe all the time," said Miriam. "The sleeves are so large, I should think they must be in the way." "She probably ties them together behind her. I have been told that is the way. She can use them as pockets." "I don't see how men ever get used to carrying such big loads," said Esther. She pointed to two porters who were bent nearly double. Their loads were strapped upon cushions fastened on their backs, and held in place by straps around their heads. [Illustration: A WOMAN OF BETHLEHEM.] "Each of those men must have almost as much of a load as a camel carries," said Esther's mother. "It seems almost impossible, but it is true. It is a hard life, a very hard life." While she was speaking they entered the market. The eyes of the little girls were kept busy looking at the many different things of interest. There were Arabs in charge of camels laden with melons, grapes and figs. There were women selling vegetables, and at the same time taking care of their babies. There were patient donkeys longing to be freed from their loads of goods which their masters were trying to sell. "Mamma, mamma!" whispered Esther. "There is a baby gazelle in the basket on that woman's head. It is even smaller than the one I saw at Rebecca's. I suppose she is trying to sell the little thing." "Look at the woman beside her," said Miriam. "She looks very tired. I suppose she has walked several miles from her own village with her baskets of fruit. Her baby boy sits on her shoulders, crowing and laughing at every one who passes by."