VILLAGE LIFE IN THE HOLY LAND 



251 



in inclosures or sheepfolds through which 

 one generally passes when going into the 

 dwelling. 



The house itself consists of one large 

 room, usually square. The walls, from 3 

 to 4 feet thick, are built of blocks of stone 

 roughly dressed and laid in mortar, roofed 

 over with a dome, also of stone. The 

 outside of this roof is covered with a 

 coating of mortar made of clay, which, 

 on being pressed with a small stone roller 

 or pounded with a board, becomes hard 

 and compact enough to shed the rain ( see 

 page 252). 



A steep outside staircase, unprotected 

 by any railing, is built up to the roof, for 

 the surface must be repaired at times. 

 The flat, open space of the roof also 

 forms a handy place on which to dry figs 

 and raisins, and during the hot weather 

 the family may sleep there at night. 



THE UPPER ROOM OF THE HOUSE 



Entering the door, we find that about 

 two-thirds of the space is devoted to a 

 raised masonry platform, some 8 to 10 

 feet above the ground and supported by 

 low-domed arches. This raised space, 

 called el mastaby, is the part occupied by 

 the family, while the lower part is used 

 for the cattle and flocks (see page 310). 

 A few narrow stone steps lead up to the 

 mastaby, and a couple of small windows 

 pierce the wall, high up from the ground. 

 These, as a rule, are the only means of 

 admitting light and furnishing ventilation 

 to the entire house. Until about half a 

 century ago it was thought unsafe to build 

 even medium-sized windows, and any 

 man presuming to do so would have been 

 considered as challenging the rest of the 

 community. 



On one side is an open fireplace, with 

 a chimney running through the wall and 

 terminating on the roof often in an old 

 water jar whose bottom has been knocked 

 out, and so becomes a sort of smokestack. 

 Many houses have no chimney at all ; 

 small holes through the wall, or the win- 

 dows, furnish the only exit for the smoke, 

 which on winter days fairly fills the 

 house. 



The furniture is very simple and, as 

 a rule, consists of a crudely decorated 

 bridal chest in which the mother of the 



family has brought her trousseau ; a straw 

 mat or heavy woven woolen rug which 

 covers part of the floor, and mattresses, 

 with thick quilts and hard pillows, which 

 at night are spread on the floor. 



The cooking utensils are few in num- 

 ber — one clay cooking pot, a couple of 

 large wooden bowls in which to knead 

 the dough, and a couple of smaller ones 

 used to eat from. Wheat is ground in a 

 hand-mill of black basalt, the lower stone 

 being imbedded in a sort of sun-dried 

 clay trough shaped to receive the flour as 

 it is ground. These, with a sieve or two, 

 a large wooden cooking spoon, a small 

 brass coffee-pot, a few tiny coffee-cups, 

 and perhaps a clay dish in which to roast 

 and grind the coffee beans, comprise the 

 entire outfit. 



Having inspected the dwelling portion, 

 which at once is kitchen, store-room, bed- 

 room, and living-room, let us descend the 

 steps into what the natives call the stable. 



Below the mastaby, or raised platform, 

 just described, among arches so low that 

 a man can scarcely walk erect, are the 

 winter quarters of the goats and sheep. 

 To shut the flocks in, these arched en- 

 trances are obstructed with bundles of 

 brush used as firewood for the winter. 

 The rest of the floor space, which is open 

 to the ceiling, is devoted to the few work 

 cattle and perhaps a donkey or camel. 

 Around the walls are primitive mangers 

 for the cattle, built of rough slabs of 

 stone placed on edge and plastered up 

 with mortar. 



Often the owner makes a small raised 

 place on which he sleeps at night to en- 

 able him to keep better watch over the 

 newly born lambs, lest in the crowded 

 quarters some get crushed or trodden 

 down by the older ones. Here he often 

 sleeps by preference on a cold night, for 

 he says the breath of the animals keeps 

 him warm. 



THE LAND, NOT THE PEOPLE, CONSERVES 

 THE OLD CUSTOMS 



One cannot become even tolerably ac- 

 quainted with Palestine without perceiv- 

 ing that it is the land that has preserved 

 the ancient customs. Its present-day in- 

 habitants, who have nothing in common 

 with the modern Jews who crowd Jerusa- 



