THE CONGRESS OF WOMEN.

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in the cups and glasses without milk or spoons. It was very sweet and thick from the quantity of sugar in it. We drank a glass or two and nibbled at the cake for polite­ness, for we did not find any of it good. The little boys behaved like gentlemen, handing the tea to the ladies. The eldest asked for nothing, but the little four-year- old evidently wanted a cake, and in spite of his elder brother’s reasoning and expos­tulation, insisted on asking for it, but did it in a manly way, without whining or cry­ing or worrying his mother. She gave it to him with a word or two of reproof, and he ate it silently, as if ashamed of his behavior. How different from many American children we all have seen. Soon after our 5 o’clock tea we bade our hosts adieu, delighted with our visit. They insisted on our taking away with us a number of the cakes.

I had read a great deal about the women of the east meeting at the baths as at a club room, and I was very anxious to see them, indeed, to take a bath with them. I was told I would not be allowed to enter a bath in Tangiers, so I had to wait until I reached Algiers. The dress of the Algerine differs somewhat from that of the Tan­gerine, the conspicuous difference being in the drawers or trousers, those in Algiers being very large, loose and baggy. A woman walks or rather waddles about with a balloon of some thick white material on each leg. Her upper dress comes just below the knee, and is a slip of white embroidered muslin or lace over colored silk, bound at the waist with a sash. As ornaments are used ear-rings, necklaces, bracelets and a curious pin, which I can scarcely describe, used to fasten the draperies. The pin is of Kabyle origin, generally silver, with a flat head in shape of a triangle, a crescent or disk or the prophet’s hand. It is either cut out in lace work or is of filagree. Fastened to the pin is an open ring, and through this incomplete ring, with a ball at each side of the open part, the material is caught, so that it is as secure as if fastened with one of our safety pins. The French occupation of Algiers has done away with many old customs and has rendered the people less bigoted. Any stranger taking off his or her shoes can go all over the mosques, while in Tangiers strangers have been nearly killed for attempting this.

In Algiers the women of the upper classes walk or drive abroad, wrapped in the sheet-like drapery. They do not seem to aim at concealing their faces, and the dra­pery is often semi-transparent. I saw them at the tomb or shrine of one of their saints, where barren women go to pray for children, lounging about on the cushions or floor without mantles or drapery, and men coming and going all the time. We were directed to a bath, and at the door all our romantic illusions about the beauty of them were dispelled. The old hag in charge exacted a fee of twenty cents for allowing us to enter and look on. We went down two or three steps to a room below the level of the street, dark, dirty, ill-smelling. Around the wall ran a divan, and on it were heaps of clothes left in charge of the old woman and her assistants, two almost nude, repul­sively ugly negresses. The old woman led us to a door which opened into a steam room. The marble floor of it was several inches deep in water, and two completely naked negresses kept it at the same height by continually dashing on it pails of water from a fountain high on the wall, an outlet carrying off the water. The steam filled the room as with a cloud, and the most strong and offensive odor of perspiration filled every nook and corner. On the floor were over fifty nude women and little girls, some scrub­bing themselves or each other, others washing their heads and combing out their long hair, others again were stretched out at full length, resting after their exercises, not a shred of clothing to be seen unless wash rags and towels could be so called. We stood gazing a few minutes and then beat a hasty retreat, glad to get away from the heat and the stench. The women did not seem to mind our looking at them; they only called out to shut the door behind us, as the draft was cold. 1 could not help thinking what a golden opportunity such a visit would be for a painter or sculptor, with such models scattered around in so many different positions, and nearly all young and handsome. I was, however, cured of all desire to participate in an eastern bath.

A few days later we left the shores of Africa, and, steaming across the Mediterra-