What then was the way of humour in the Semitic East? Fortunately life in Palestine has altered so little that modern observation can help us to an answer. “The first appearance of an Eastern”, writes Dr. Kelman[111], “is grave and solemn, with an element of contempt in it rather trying to the stranger. The Eastern does not understand chaff, his wildest outbreak of humour reaching no further than those solemn and laboured puns of which he has always been so fond.... Perhaps it is due to the ever-present remembrance of danger that the Eastern--especially if he be an Arab--so often assumes a show of superiority and bullying swagger, which seem to the uninitiated quite impervious to any thought of fun. _But the mask is easily laid aside_, and the gravest and most contemptuous Syrian will suddenly collapse into harsh laughter or forget himself in childish interest. Their notion of entertainment differs so much from ours that Eastern “festivities” may appear to us only wearisome or even ridiculous. On one occasion we arrived at our tents to find a ‘poet’ or improvisator, waiting for us. The minstrel seated himself on the ground, while we formed a wide circle round him, and the camp-servants stood behind. From a cloth-bag he produced an instrument which bore close resemblance to a domestic shovel, much the worse for wear and perforated with little irregular holes as if it had been shot. He began to play, and sang a selection which soon conquered any levity that may have greeted his beginning. He had but a few tunes and they all ended in the Minor _doh si lah_, the _lah_ being prolonged, diminuendo and tremolo, in a long wail that had a sob in it. While the wail was dying away his head was thrown forward and his face uplifted, the upper lip quivering rapidly and the eyes rolling from side to side. Then just as he seemed to have reached silence, came a quick spasmodic outburst, very loud and clear, with vigorous accompaniment, which in its turn died off in the same long wail. All this must be imagined with a wonderful sunset of gold in a sky of indigo and grey, against which the figure of the Arab sat in dark silhouette.” A pleasure so ludicrously sad would certainly seem to imply a lack of humour in those who can enjoy it; but--“the minstrel whom we have described was quite open for joking when he had emerged from his ecstasy.... Often at night there is singing among the servants of the camp and outbursts of hilarity can be heard.... When a fantazia (to celebrate the gift of a fatted sheep) was held there was no possibility of mistake as to the mirth.” Thus there is good reason to mistrust appearances. And certainly it is inherently improbable that the Hebrews should have been devoid of humour; for, as Dr. Kelman goes on to insist, “the East is full of provocatives to mirth. Take the one instance of the camel. Much has been written about him from many points of view, but justice has never been done to the camel as a humorous animal.