"O-ar! o-ar! derak! derak!" sounded the driver's voice.
A small boy running down a byway mimicked the Arab.
"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.