Depraved though they are, the Ouled-Naïls never depart in their dress from that which would be considered perfectly proper and respectable even by Mr. Anthony Comstock. The painters of every country seem to have taken a peculiar delight in depicting Arab dancing-girls as conspicuously shy of clothing, but, picturesqueness aside, the décolleté gown of an American woman would embarrass and shock these daughters of the sands as much as it would all Moslems, for though they may be somewhat lacking in morals they are never lacking in clothes. The women of the Ouled-Naïl are considerably below the medium height and, owing to the peculiar fashion in which their gaudy-hued tarlatan skirts are bunched out around the waist and are shortened to display their trim ankles and massive silver anklets, they appear even smaller than they really are. Their hands and feet are small and wonderfully perfect—if one is able to overlook the nails stained crimson with henna; arched eyebrows meet over eyes as big and lustrous and melting as those of a gazelle; while their wonderful blue-black hair, plaited into ropes and heavily bejewelled—whether the “jewels” are genuine or not is no great matter—is brought down over the ears in the fashion which made Cléo de Mérode famous. But the really distinguishing feature of the Ouled-Naïl's costume is her jewelry. She has so much of it, in fact, that there is no gold to be had in Algeria. Ask for napoleons instead of paper money at your bank in Algiers and you will meet with a prompt “Impossible, m'sieur.” “But why is it impossible?” you ask. “Because we have no gold, m'sieur,” is the polite response. “Where is it, then?” you inquire, scenting a robbery or an anticipated run on the bank. “On the Ouled-Naïls, m'sieur,” the cashier courteously replies. And he speaks the literal truth. Every centime that a dancing-girl can beg, borrow, or earn goes toward the purchase of massive silver jewelry, anklets, bracelets, and the like, and these in turn are exchanged for gold pieces—whether French napoleons, English sovereigns, or Turkish liras she is not at all particular—which, linked together in that golden armour of which I have already spoken, envelops her lithe young body from neck to hips. When her portable wealth has attained to such dimensions it is usually the sign for the Ouled-Naïl to retire from business, going to her desert husband with her dowry about her neck.