wretched, miserably clad soldier-boy occupied a corner; he was going to join his regiment, and looked sullen and downcast. I offered him an orange, which he accepted, for the day was hot. I felt sorry for him, poor fellow, for well he knew that a Turkish soldier's life "is not a happy one." Occasionally stray brown locusts flew in through the door, "flopped" down on the floor and remained stationary, apparently dazed with the unusual sight and sound of the "iron horse" and its long tail. The arrival of more passengers of the masculine gender at a roadside station demanded that we should vacate our seats and retire to the women's quarter at the other end of the train. We accomplished our exit with as good a grace as possible, reflecting that Eastern customs being the exact reverse of those practised in England, we would show our good breeding by yielding to them--when there was no other alternative. In this instance the change was not for the better. The space was limited, and the air stifling, but the friendly native ladies made room for us and offered us a share of the nuts they were eating, the shells of which plentifully bestrewed the floor. Miss B., our missionary friend, and the ladies exchanged lengthy compliments, inquired minutely into each other's business and commented upon it, as if they were members of the same family. We discovered that these untidy, unshapely-looking females were the wives of the above mentioned resplendent Moslem gentlemen. Like good-tempered children, they seemed absolutely contented with their nuts and dolls--for as such they treated their brown-faced, dark-eyed babies--desiring nothing more in this world than to please their husbands, and to purchase the latest pattern of _maudeel_--or veil--imported from Beirût. We had now passed through the Wady es Sura and were speeding rapidly through the Valley of Rephaim, once the way in which the Philistines used to come up in the days of the Judges and David. Great rocks lifted their heads on either side, whose barren wildness suggested the home of the eagle and vulture. The sun was setting, and soon a shrill scream from the engine announced that we were nearing the end of our journey. We had just time to collect our wraps when the train drew up at the little station, and our ears were assailed with loud cries from the porters of "Jerusalem!" Before we had time to think, friendly hands grasped ours, and the kindly voices of Miss K. and Miss C. were bidding us welcome.