Page:A child of the Orient (IA childoforient00vakarich).pdf/87

 her. When the men's temenas were ended, she piped up:

"Father, this is the little girl I was telling you of—the one that always dresses in sheeting."

To think of a person dressed as she was criticizing my clothes. I rose on the points of my little white shoes, and extended an accusing finger at her:

"And you are dressed like a saltimbanque!" I said. A circus-rider was the only person with whom I felt I could properly compare her.

"Oh! it is not true," the little girl wailed. "I am dressed like a great lady."

The pasha, her father, smiled at my father. "Zarar yok Effedim! They will some day be women."

My father saluted, and apologized for me, and we went on our way, A few minutes later, although I knew it had not been his intention, we mounted the stone steps which led to a rustic, open-air café.

He chose a table apart from the others, and gave an order to the waiter. He said no word either to his companion or to me, but I knew that he was worried. After the waiter had filled his order and gone, he spoke:

"My daughter, you have just insulted that child."

"But, father," I protested, "she insulted me first."