i





* 4
| ARTIN |
^ Our Little Armenian Cousin ^
* 4
* „ 4
* By *
& Mary Hazelton Wade 4
*! *
* 4
jjj Illustrated by ^
•4* L. J. Bridgman 4
* 4
* *
%
* < .4
f t
Boston
^ L. C. Page & Company ^
-I* Publishers 4
* .v. *• 4
% 4* 4* 4* $4*:$ 4* 4* 4* 4* 4M$' 4* *> 4* 4* 3*


Copyright, /goj
C. Page & Company
(incorporated)
By L.
All rights reserved
Published May, 1905
Third Impression, July, 1908
Fourth Impression, March, 1910


Preface
In the schoolroom or playground you may
possibly have met your Armenian cousin, — a
child with dark hair and sad eyes, who is quiet
and shy, and who seems almost fearful of
accepting your proffered friendship.
Poor little Armenian cousin! Have you
heard your parents speak of the cruel manner
in which the people of his country have been
treated and of the hardships they suffer in their
own home?
It can scarcely be called a homjgjSafjBr it is
ruled over by the Sultan of T«ffey, who
allows little happiness or freedom <£b*8ie people
he has conquered.
V


vi
Preface
"There is no such country as Armenia,"
says the Turk. "That which was Armenia
is now a province of Turkey, governed by
Turkish laws and ruled by officers appointed
by the Sultan."
Its people are not even allowed to come and
go as they choose. Nothing can be done
without the ruler's permission. The smallest
offence is punished in the severest manner,
and many massacres of innocent people have
taken place.
It is no wonder our Armenian cousins are
glad to leave their native land when a chance
is offered, and that many of them come to
America in search of a happier and more
peaceful home.
Their faces tell us they have suffered much.
We must help them to forget their troubles.
Our love and friendship must be strong enough
to bring smiles to their faces and trust to their
hearts.


Preface
The world is great and good. Here in
America, if not in their native land, our
Armenian cousins may yet find a real home
and lasting happiness.





Contents
CHAPTER •*>''
I. A Highland Winter ....
II. The Sacred Land M
III. The Earthquake 26
IV. The Visitors .... 36
V. Hunting Wild Sheep ... -47
VI. Queer Animals . . -57
VII. Sights in the Great City . . .67





List of Illustrations
FAGS
"Artin patted the sheep" (Seepage 7) Frontispiece
Climbing Mount Ararat 18
"The old lady went on, speaking quite
slowly" 33
•"Many caravans pass through Armenia,m . 41
Laz Hunters 53
In Erzeroum 75





ARTIN
Our Little Armenian Cousin
CHAPTER I.
A HIGHLAND WINTER
"Look! look! See the shower of snow,"
cried Artin.
"There is enough snow outside, without
having any more in the house," said his
mother. But she stopped her work and came
out into the hall to see the strange sight.
It was early morning and Artin had just
opened the door leading into the yard. The
weather was bitter cold, and as the door swung
open the freezing air rushed into the big build-
ing. It gave the warm air of the inside a most
loving greeting. Then lo! a cloud of snow-


2 Our Little Armenian Cousin
fairies appeared and came fluttering down upon
the rough floor. Artin stood watching them
as if he had never seen snow before in his
life.
"The world is full of wonders. But come,
Artin, and help your father with his cattle.
Breakfast will soon be ready."
The mother went back to her work and
Artin went out into the big stable, where his
father and the other men were milking.
It was a queer home, where this little black-
haired boy had lived ever since he was born.
The stable and the house were all together.
You could hardly say, "This is where the
cattle are kept, and the family live in that
part."
A large part of the building was used as a
stable, while small rooms for housekeeping
opened out from it. And yet, the family spent
a good deal of their time in the stable itself.
Artin's father received his friends here.


A Highland Winter 3
They smoked and told stories, and talked over
their business, while the oxen chewed their
cuds and lazily nodded their heads.
The boy's mother often brought her sewing
or knitting out here and sat with her hus-
band.
At first, this custom of living in a stable
with the cattle seems strange, but so do all
fashions which are unlike ours.
Artin's father is quite a rich man. Before
his little son was born, he used to live in a
smaller home. But his flocks of sheep grew
larger, and his herds of cattle also. He said:
"I do not have room enough here."
He hired some workmen, who began to dig
out the soil on a gentle slope of land which he
owned. They dug out a large space of ground.
It was like a cellar about five feet deep. It
was a long time before the work was done.
But this was only the beginning of the
home.


4 Our Little Armenian Cousin
"You must get some stout trunks of trees
and saw them into pieces ten or twelve feet
long," said the farmer. "We will set them
up in rows inside of the cellar. They will
make strong pillars."
You can see now that Artin's home would
be largely underground, but would be very
strong.
When the pillars had been set up, stone
walls were built around the sides of the cellar.
Next came the making of the roof. The
branches of the trees, whose trunks had already
been used, were laid across from pillar to pillar.
The twigs were tied up in bunches and spread
over the branches.
Of course, the roof was not yet so close but
that rain would fall through into the rooms
beneath. The building of it, however, had
only commenced. . The men now took the
earth they had dug out of the ground when
they made the cellar, and spread it over the


A Highland Winter 5
framework of twigs and branches. They trod
it down as hard as possible.
Then came another layer of earth, and more
pounding and treading. Now that this was
done, there would be no possible leaking for
years to come.
When warm days of summer came, seeds
began to sprout, and blades of grass shot up
out of this earth-roof. It was soon like a fine
field of grass. The children played here, and
the sheep got many a delicious supper over
the heads of the people below.
It wasn't a bad way of building a home, was
it? Yet it does seem queer to us.
But how could the sheep get up on the
roof? At first, that would seem to puzzle
you.
You must remember the building was put
up on sloping land. It was also partly under-
ground. Besides this, as the loose earth was
thrown up on the roof, it was left in a sort of


6 Our Little Armenian Cousin
banking from the ground to the roof on three
sides of the building.
The sheep, as well as the children, could
scamper up and down the banking, to and from
the roof, as much as they pleased.
"But, dear me! how could the people inside
of that big building see to do the work?" you
exclaim. "There were no windows on the
sides of the house."
Indeed, there were only three or four small
openings in the roof. And these were covered
with oiled paper, so they let in very little light.
If we should look closely, we should see one
place in which a piece of real glass was set. It
would be a sad day for the boy who broke that
glass. It was very precious and cost a good
deal of money in the part of the world where
Artin lives.
His home was dark, to be sure, and he
stayed in the stable a great deal of the time
during the long, cold winter. But he got used


A Highland Winter 7
to it and it did not trouble him. Indeed, after
he had been outdoors for a long time, he was
glad to get away from the dazzling light of the
sun on the snow.
As Artin stepped into the stable, a big fat
sheep ran to meet him. It rubbed its woolly
side against the boy, as much as to say, —
"Good morning, good morning, little mas-
ter."
Artin patted the sheep and scratched its
back. It was his pet out of all the flock.
When it was a baby lamb, he picked it out
from all the others. He taught it to follow
him, and often fed it with tender grass or bits
of bread.
It was an old sheep now, but was as much
of a pet as ever. It often left the rest of the
flock to follow Artin or his father from place
to place. In the winter-time, when the ani-
mals had to spend month after month in the
stable, it chose the company of the horses.


Our Little Armenian Cousin
"They are wise creatures, and I like them,"
it seemed to think. "We are very good
friends."
As soon as Artin had petted the sheep, he
turned to the dogs who came jumping about
him.
"Bow-wow! bow-wow! How glad we are
to see you, little master," they seemed to say.
They barked and waved their tails in great
delight.
They made such a fuss that the chickens,
who had already begun to scratch about for
their breakfast, fled right and left. They
were in a hurry to get out of the reach of the
dogs' feet.
The big stable was dark, of course. But it
was quite comfortable, although only a small
fire was kept in the family part. There were
so many cows and oxen and sheep and horses
that their warm bodies gave a great deal of
heat.


A Highland Winter 9
As soon as the dogs became quiet and went
back to their places, Artin felt something soft
rubbing against his legs. It was a sober old
cat that had come down from the platform at
the end of the stable. She wished to greet
Artin, too. She had left a new family of
kittens, but she now hurried back to see that
no harm came to them.
Artin followed her up on to the platform to
her hiding-place in one corner.
"Oh, how lovely!" he cried, as he knelt
down on the floor where two of the most beau-
tiful white kittens were cuddled. They were
snowy white, without a coloured hair on them.
Their fur was long and fine. Their eyes were
not yet open.
"What beauties they are!" cried Artin, as
he tenderly held them in his arms. Their
mother looked up at him and cried.
"No, no, I won't hurt them. And the
dogs sha'n't trouble them, either," said the


io Our Little Armenian Cousin
little boy. He put them back in the corner
and turned softly away.
"I believe they are even prettier than my
Angora kittens," he said to himself. "They
are as white as snow. The Angora kittens
have long hair, too, but it is brownish. And
they are not as gentle as these will be. They
are fierce and ready for a battle with the dogs
at almost any time."
The platform where the cats spent most of
their time was the place where Artin's father
received his friends. There were fine carpets
on the floor and soft couches along the sides.
There was a rail around it so the cattle and
sheep were kept off.
The dogs had their dens beneath. The
cats were the only animals that were allowed
to come there.
"You are late. You ought to have been
helping us half an hour ago," said his father,
as the boy appeared at last among the milkers.


A Highland Winter n
The farmer did not often need to find fault
with his little son.
Artin was strong and healthy. He liked
to work, and was seldom behindhand.
"Breakfast! breakfast!" Artin's sister,
Mariam, called a little while afterward.
The milking had been finished by this time.
Every one dropped work and followed the
little girl to the room where the morning meal
was smoking on the low table.
There was hot mutton in a metal dish, and
curdled milk, and a plentiful amount of
"losh," as Artin calls the favourite bread
of his people.
His mother had made it in thin cakes.
They were scarcely thicker than the blade of
a knife, but were at least a yard long. The
table was fairly covered with these cakes, which
took the place of napkins.
While Artin sat eating, he wiped his mouth
with a bit of losh. When he wished some of


12 Our Little Armenian Cousin
the curdled milk, he broke off a piece of losh
and folded it up so as to make a spoon with
which he fed himself. When he helped him-
self to some mutton, he rolled it up in a strip
of losh and made an odd little sandwich.
Artin was very fond of this queer bread,
and ate large quantities of it, while he made it
useful in eating the other food to which he
was helped.
Artin's grandmother lived with the family.
So, also, did his great-grandmother, who was a
bright-looking woman a hundred years old!
She was almost as spry as her daughter. She
had helped to get the breakfast ready on this
cold winter's morning.
"There is nothing like the fine air of our
country," she often said. "How can a person
help keeping well and strong if he lives here?"
Then she would sigh as she thought of
those of her people who had left Armenia to
live in other lands.


A Highland Winter 13
"It is not because they wished to go away,"
she had told Artin. "Oh, no, no! It was
because of the rule of the cruel Turks."
She always spoke in a whisper when she
mentioned the Turks. It seemed as though
she feared that one of them were listening in
some corner, or that he would suddenly appear
in the doorway.


CHAPTER II.
THE SACRED LAND
"Mother, why can't I talk about Armenia
as much as I wish? It is the name of our
country, and it sounds like music when I say
it to myself."
"Sh! sh! my child!" Artin's mother
looked frightened. She always had a sad
expression in her dark eyes, but now they
seemed sadder than ever.
"I have tried to make you understand the
reason," she said, speaking slowly and softly.
"You know the Sultan of Turkey has us in
his power. He rules over us as he wishes,
and we are not strong enough to free ourselves.
"It is the Sultan's command that we shall
not speak of Armenia. 'There is no such


The Sacred Land 15
place,' he says. 'The land that was called by
that name belongs to me. It is a province of
my empire. Its people are now my people.'"
The tears fell from the woman's eyes as she
said these words. "Oh, Artin, my child^ I
hope we shall live to see the time when other
countries will come to help us. It is the only
way to save our Fatherland from fhe Sultan's
wicked power."
"But, mother, our people were not always
like this, were they ?" asked Artin.
"No, indeed. We once had kings of our
own and we were free and happy. Just think,
Artin, the first Christian king in the whole
world was an Armenian.
"But our home lies here in southwestern
Asia, with enemies on every hand. The Per-
sians are on one side of us, the Turks on the
other. Then, if we go north, the great coun-
try of Russia lies just across the Black Sea.
"The armies of these different peoples have


16 Our Little Armenian Cousin
met and fought their battles here in our own
dear land. It has been conquered first by one
of them, then by another. Our courage is
gone. Our spirit is quite broken."
"Do not cry, mother. Let us ask father
to go away. I should like to cross the ocean
and go to the wonderful country of America.
Some of our friends are living there, you know.
They write letters about their happy new
home."
"I know it, Artin, I know it. But this
land is the only home I can imagine. I love
it with all my heart. I cannot bear to think
of leaving it.
"Always remember, my dear child, this land
was the cradle of all the peoples of the earth."
"You are thinking of the Garden of Eden,
aren't you, mother?"
"Yes, Artin. We are only a few miles
from the very spot where Adam and Eve had
their first home. That is what we have been


The Sacred Land 17
told. Our first parents lived in perfect happi-
ness in that paradise of birds and flowers until
the tempter led them into sin. They tasted
the wondrous apples that were not meant
for them to eat.
"Then, alas! the sorrow of the world began.
Adam and Eve were driven out from the
garden. They now had to work among the
thorns and thistles of Armenia for their daily
living."
"I don't wonder you would rather live here
than anywhere else. Who knows but what
the Garden of Eden will be given back to us!
I would like to be as near it as possible, at
any rate," said Artin.
As his mother talked, it seemed as though
he could see it all, — the beautiful paradise of
fruits and flowers, the birds singing happily
overhead, the bright, clear sunshine all around.
And in the midst of all this loveliness were
two people, a man and a woman. Their faces


i d Our Little Armenian Cousin
were calm and gentle. They walked gaily, as
though they knew no care. They sang merrily
in company with the birds. There was no
cloud in the sky. There was no shadow on
the earth.
Then came the change, and sorrow entered
the world because of disobedience.
"It has stayed here ever since. I wonder
if the Golden Age will ever come again,"
thought Artin.
"There is something else for us to be proud
of," his mother went on. "If you climb to
the top of yonder mountain, what can you, see
beyond?"
"Mount Ararat," quickly replied the boy.
"I'd rather be near that mountain than any
other in the world."
"Of course you would, Artin. It is im-
possible to think of it without also thinking
of Noah, who descended on the mountain of
Ararat in the Ark when the great flood began








The Sacred Land 19
to go down. When the world was overtaken
by the deluge, every one was destroyed except
Noah and his family and the creatures he had
taken with him into the Ark."
"Why was there a deluge, mother?"
"Because the people of the earth had grown
very wicked. But Noah was good and wise,
and the Lord loved him. So He directed Noah
to build the Ark and save himself at the time
of the rising of the waters."
"What a dreadful time it must have been!
I wonder if Noah wasn't frightened. And I
should think so many animals in the Ark would
have made a fearful noise. Just think of it!
The Bible says the flood lasted forty days and
forty nights!"
"It seems a long time, doesn't it? But at
last the waters began to go down and the Ark
rested on the mountain of Ararat. More and
more land was laid bare, and Noah left the
Ark and went down the mountainside. He


2o Our Little Armenian Cousin
planted a vineyard and settled there. But
first, he built an altar and made sacrifices to
God, who had kept him safe."
"I know, mother. There is a village on the
side of Ararat, and the little church stands
where the altar was built. Father has been to
the place."
"Yes, dear. I have visited the village
myself. I have heard there are people in the
world who don't believe there ever was a deluge.
They even think Noah was not a real man.
They say the story is a myth.
"Some of those who travel through our
country talk like that. But we people of
Armenia believe it as I have told you this
morning."
At this moment the door opened and Artin's
father came staggering into the room.
"Dear me! What is the matter?" cried
his wife as she hurried to his side.
"I cannot see," he answered. "I am snow-


22 Our Little Armenian Cousin
seldom seen. But up on the high plain the
winters were long and cold and the summers
were short.
Artin was never sick. He had never had a
doctor.
"I wonder if I shall live to be as old as my
great-grandmother," he sometimes thought.
"Ever so many of my people live to be a
hundred years old. Father says it is because
this is the healthiest place in the world. It is
the nicest and best place, anyway."
After he had gone out into the stable to
take care of the horse, his sister soon followed
him.
"Grandma just told me a story, Artin, and
I thought you would like to hear it," she said
to her brother.
She was very fond of Artin, and the boy and
girl played together most of the time.
"Don't you know we were talking about
geese the other day?" she went on. "You


The Sacred Land 23
said you wondered what made the difference
between wild geese and tame ones. Well, this
is what the Persians say about them:
"Once upon a time there were two geese who
were going to take a journey together. The
evening before they started, one of them said
to the other:
"' Look out, dear friend, and be ready. If
God is willing, I will start in the morning.'
"' So will I,' answered the other goose,
'whether God is willing or not.'
"Early the next morning the pious goose ate
his breakfast and went to a stream near by for
a drink. Then he spread his wings and flew
far away.
"The goose who had talked so wickedly got
ready to follow him. But, strange to say, he
found he could not rise from the ground.
"He hopped and he fluttered, and he made
a great deal of fuss. It was all in vain. His
wings were useless.


24 Our Little Armenian Cousin
"He looked around in despair. He saw a
hunter not far away, but he could not move
enough to get out of his reach.
"The hunter soon caught him and carried
him away. He kept him in a yard and tamed
him. But that goose never got back the
power to use his wings. He became the
father of all the tame geese in the world."
"Poor fellow," said Artin. "I pity him,
even if he did talk wickedly. But your story
makes me think of a crane I saw last summer
in a neighbour's yard.
"A hunter had shot him, but it did no
harm to the bird except to break a wing. He
was easily caught after that. Then the hunter
brought him to our neighbour's farmyard.
"He stalked about very proudly, as much
as to say: 'What business have you to make
me stay here with common fowls? A lordly
crane like me! Shame upon you!'
"But after awhile he became quiet, and


The Sacred Land 25
ate corn with the rest of the fowls. Of course,
he had a deep jug of water to drink from, on
account of his long bill. He did not have to
share that with the other creatures of the barn-
yard, at any rate.
"I was over there one day when a flock of
cranes flew by overhead. They wheeled round
and round as they caught sight of their brother
below, and called to him to join them. He
stretched up his long neck and answered them
in the most mournful way. I think he was
telling them that he was a prisoner."
"I wonder if they understood him," said
Mariam.
"It seemed as though they did. They flew
away, and the poor prisoner was left alone. I
felt sorry for him, I can tell you."


CHAPTER III.
THE EARTHQUAKE
Artin and Mariam were sitting by the big
fireplace of a small sitting-room. They were
reading. It was not very late in the afternoon,
but the iron lamp hanging from the chimney-
piece was already lighted.
The tiny windows covered with oiled paper
let in so little light that the children could not
read without the help of the lamp. Mariam
looked up from her book.
"I was just reading such a funny story,
Artin," she said. "It was about a little girl
who lived in a house like ours. She was all
alone in the kitchen one evening. Her
mother had told her to watch the supper, for
26


The Earthquake 27
she had some work to do in another part of
the house.
"The little girl was sitting by the fireplace
and singing. The kettle was boiling away at
a great rate.
"Suddenly the girl heard a sound over-
head. Somebody was on the roof! It was
winter-time, and dark, too. She said: * That
cannot be the sheep or dogs.'
"A moment afterward she felt sure that
the flat stone on top of the chimney had
been lifted off, for she felt a gust of cold
air.
"She began to be frightened, for there was
no one else in the part of the house where she
was.
"But she was a good deal more scared when
she saw a crooked stick come slowly down the
chimney. It fished around till it caught hold
of the handle of the kettle and slowly lifted it
up out of sight.


28 Our Little Armenian Cousin
"When it was entirely gone the child began
to scream with all her might. Her mother
came hurrying into the room, exclaiming,
* What is the matter with the child!' At the
same time she looked at the fireplace and saw
that the kettle was missing.
"As soon as the little girl could speak she
told what had happened.
"' Ah, ha!' exclaimed her mother. 'Some
hungry thief has stolen my nice supper. It
was easy enough, too. The chimney is so
low, he did not have to reach very far. If I
had been here, though, he shouldn't have had
it. But stop your crying, my child. No one
is hurt. And now we must hurry to get
another supper ready.'"
Artin laughed. "I hope the thief didn't
burn his mouth eating the stolen stew. Didn't
the people ever catch him?"
"No one tried. The little girl's mother
said it wasn't worth while. And when the


The Earthquake 29
second supper had been cooked, and the
family sat down to enjoy it, everybody laughed
over what had happened."
"Do you remember what I found on our
chimney last spring, Mariam?"
"I don't think I'll forget it very soon,
Artin. It was a stork's nest. The funniest
part of it was that sparrows had built their own
little nests among the sticks that formed the
big nest of the storks. You know you showed
it to me."
"I'd like to know what sparrows were made
for, Mariam. They are such fussy, noisy little
things. They scold and scold about every-
thing."
"Yes, and they are such bold birds. They
are always ready to steal the grain, as well as
every other good thing they can seize in their
bills. I do not wonder they dare to build
their homes around the storks' nests. They
dare almost anything."


30 Our Little Armenian Cousin
Just then the children's great-grandmother
entered the room.
"Won't you tell us a story? We love to
hear about long ago," said Artin, as the old
lady sat down.
"Dear me! What can I say that would
interest you children?"
"Tell about the earthquake," said Mariam.
"You said once that you remembered it as if
it happened yesterday."
"And it was more than sixty years ago.
What a long time that is!" exclaimed Artin.
"Yet when it happened, I was a grown
woman with a family of little children," said
the old lady.
"Everything seemed as usual on the morn-
ing of the earthquake. I went about my work
and the children played as happily as could be.
But when the afternoon came, I began to feel
strange. I could not understand why.
"The air became still and gloomy. The


The Earthquake 31
children came to my side with sober little faces.
They felt something, too. But what was it?
"All at once I heard a low, rumbling noise.
It grew louder every moment. The house
trembled and shook. Dust from the plastered
walls filled the air about me. I choked and
coughed. The children began to cry and sob.
"' The earth is moving, mardma,' they cried.
'Aren't you afraid?'
"I could hardly speak from fear, myself,
but I managed to say,' God is everywhere, my
darlings.'
"Just then there was a crash. A part of
the house had fallen in.
"And now the room where we were shook
and rocked to and fro, and the air was filled
with a fearful rumbling and roaring. The
strangest thing about it was that there was no
wind outside. It seemed as though the world
were stifling.
"Then came another crash, and another.


32 Our Little Armenian Cousin
It was the sound of houses falling around us.
We were living in the city of Erzeroum at
that time, as I once told you.
"Should we be spared? Every moment I
wondered if that part of the house where we
were would fall next.
"Every moment seemed like an hour. But
at last the awful noise stopped, the earth grew
quiet, and we dared to move about the room
and look outside.
"A terrible sight met our gaze. Houses lay
in ruins on the ground all about us. All of our
own house was destroyed, except the room in
which we had been and the one next to it.
"Your great-grandfather came home soon
after. He had been outdoors during the whole
dreadful time. His life had been saved in
some wonderful way.
"f What has happened?' I asked.
"' It was an earthquake,' he told me.
"' May we never see another,' I cried.



"THE OLD LADY WENT ON, SPEAKING QUITE SLOWLY"





The Earthquake 33
And, children, we never have. And I hope
you will not live to know what an earthquake
is like."
"It must have been dreadful," said Mariam,
tenderly patting the old lady's cheek. "Don't
let's talk about it any more, but tell us about
something pleasanter, if you are not too tired."
"Would you like to hear about Armenia in
Bible days? It was a free and happy country
then."
"Yes, indeed," answered Artin. "Mother
often tells us what she has read of those times,
too."
"I think you, Artin, would like to hear
about the strange boats on which the cargoes
were carried down the Euphrates River to
Babylon. You never saw anything like them."
"I'd like to hear, too. I know I would,"
cried Mariam.
The old lady went on, speaking quite slowly
"The frames were made of willow and were


34 Our Little Armenian Cousin
quite round, like a bowl. Skins of wild ani-
mals were stretched over them. They were
then filled with straw, and the cargoes were
taken on board."
"What kind of cargoes did the merchants
of those days carry ?" asked Artin.
"Chiefly wine."
"And how did the people move the boat?"
was the next question.
"Two men had charge of each boat. They
stood at their work. They rowed and pushed
it along with their oars.
"No boat went on a trip without carrying
a live ass. The larger boats carried more than
one of these animals."
"Why in the world was the ass carried?"
asked Mariam, laughing.
"This was the reason," answered the old
lady. "When the merchants arrived in Baby-
lon, they sold their cargoes and broke up their
boats. Then they loaded their asses with the


CHAPTER IV.
THE VISITORS
"May we rest here for a short time? We
have just come from Erzeroum. Our friends
there told us you would be most kind to us."
It was a stranger who said these words to
Artin's father. Another gentleman was with
him. It was plainly to be seen that both of
them were Americans, and that they were very
tired.
"Welcome, welcome," was the answer in
their own language.
Artin's father was only a farmer, but he
could speak two languages besides his own,
and he spoke them readily. One of them was
English.
"England is a great country," he often told
36


The Visitors 37
his friends. "Some day she will help our
poor nation and save us from our enemies.
But America is great, too. If I should be
obliged to leave Armenia, I should rather
make a new home in America than in any
other part of the world. It is the land of
brave, free people."
It is no wonder, then, that when he saw his
visitors were Americans, he smiled pleasantly,
and gladly led the way to the platform in the
big stable. You will remember this was the
place where he received his friends.
"We are very tired," said the visitor who
had spoken first, and who had introduced him-
self as Mr. Brown. "We came on horseback
to Erzeroum all the way from the northern
coast. It was a rough journey, and a danger-
ous one."
"Yes, at this time of the year it is certainly
not an easy one," answered the farmer. "But
I am used to mountain climbing, and I made


38 Our Little Armenian Cousin
the journey many times when I was a young
man. Do tell me how are my people on
the seacoast? Are our Turkish masters as
cruel as ever?"
"I fear so. There have been fresh massa-
cres, and hundreds of Armenians have been
killed. They were not to blame, either. A
few of your people have been working secretly,
trying to stir up a revolution. The Turks
discovered this and killed everybody, right and
left. They were just as cruel to those who
had done no harm, and who had never spoken
a word against them, as they were to the
others.
"They did not stop to find out who were
innocent and who were guilty. I am sorry
with all my heart for you Armenians."
Artin was helping his father when the vis-
itors arrived. He heard every word that was
said. The word "massacre" made him
tremble from head to foot. Yet, although he


The Visitors
was so frightened himself, he kept thinking'j;';
,{•'
"I hope Mariam won't hear this. Poor littlK:':
•::
Mariam! I don't want her to feel badly." 7»V
His father noticed that the boy was tremv;.
bling. "Run off to your pets, Artin, while I
talk with these gentlemen," he said. And
Artin heard no more about the sad things that
had happened in his country.
The visitors stayed to supper, but they were
talking now about their journey from the
seacoast.
"Up, up, up, we climbed," said Mr. Brown.
"And each new mile of the road seemed harder
than the one before it."
"Indeed, my hair stood on end most of the
time," said Mr. Miller, the other visitor.
"The road in some places was cut out of the
solid rock, and it was so narrow that a misstep
would have made us fall hundreds of feet over
a steep precipice.
"But the views! I never saw anything so


-;40 Our Little Armenian Cousin
-"-beautiful as the mountain scenery of Armenia
;Y$n all my life. There we were with mountains
-all around us. Some seemed like babies rest-
ing beside their giant mothers.
"Yet they were all grand. As we climbed
higher and higher we could look down on the
peaks and slopes of some of them, while ahead
and beyond us there were other and more lofty
ones."
"It was a wonderful journey," said his com-
panion. "I was filled with fear and delight
at almost the same time."
Artin listened eagerly to the talk of the
travellers. He had never left his home on
the plateau to visit the seacoast, but he loved
to hear about the journey.
"I suppose you spent the nights in the inns
at the different villages on the way," said
Artin's father.
"Yes, and we found plenty of company.
The houses were well-filled with drivers of



"'MANY CARAVANS PASS THROUGH ARMENIA'"





The Visitors 41
camels and pack-horses who were resting on
their way."
"Many caravans pass through Armenia on
their way to the north. They carry goods
from Asia to Europe," answered their
host.
"Yes, I know. Steam-cars would seem
strange in this part of the country. Even if
the people wished for them, they could not
build them through the dangerous passes over
which we travelled."
"Sometimes we had hard work to keep
warm at the inns where we rested. One night
it was bitter cold. Our room was on the
second floor. The lower part of the building
was used for the horses and camels. We had
no fireplace where we could warm ourselves.
The innkeeper said:
"' I will bring a mangal.'
"We wondered what a mangal could be.
Pretty soon the landlord came back into the


42 Our Little Armenian Cousin
room with a large brazen vessel. It was full
of red-hot charcoal.
"He set the mangal in the middle of the
room. We were glad to gather around it and
feel its warmth."
"I'll tell you what seemed to me the queer-
est sight of the whole trip," said Mr. Miller.
"It was the camels moving along over snow
and ice. I had always thought of those animals
as travelling over the hot sands of the desert.
They did not seem to belong to cold places
and mountain passes."
"I will tell you of what once happened to
me," said Artin's father.
"I was passing over the same road by which
you came. We had reached the middle of the
most dangerous pass between the seashore and
our plateau. The way was almost blocked
with snow and ice. Our horses were sharp-
shod, but they had to pick their way with the
greatest care. I did not dare to look sideways


The Visitors 43
over the steep cliff for fear of growing dizzy.
Then came a turn in the road. Away ahead
of us we could just see a long, moving line.
It came nearer and nearer.
"It was a caravan. How were we ever to
pass that procession of camels? They were
heavily laden, too, and their burdens were
hanging down over their sides.
"There was only one thing to do. We
must keep our horses' heads to the inside of
the track and hug the rocky side of the moun-
tain. Do you understand?
"The caravan was now close upon us. We
plunged our horses into the snow-drift. As I
did so, my hand grazed the sharp rocks. My
glove was torn and the flesh of one hand laid
bare and bleeding.
"If nothing worse happened, I should be
thankful indeed. Suppose my horse should
take fright and make a sudden dash, I should
be thrown headlong over the snow-drift. Or


44 Our Little Armenian Cousin
perhaps the heavy load of one of the camels
might knock against me as he passed by.
Some of my bones would certainly be broken.
"I held my breath. There! one camel had
passed. Then two, three, four, five! The
minutes seemed like hours, but at last we were
alone and safe.
"Although the rest of the pass was almost
as steep as the side of a house, we did not
complain."
"Yes, I know, I know," said Mr. Brown,
"but it was the grandest part of the journey,
wasn't it?"
"I should say it was. When I looked up
into the deep blue, sky, it seemed as though
heaven could not be far away. And when I
turned my eyes toward the mountain peaks
around us, and saw the snow sparkling like
millions of diamonds upon their sides, I
could not speak. It was so very, very beau-
tiful!"


The Visitors 45
"Gentlemen, there is no land in the world
like Armenia. Tell me, is it not so?"
Both of his visitors agreed with him, and
Artin's father looked much pleased.
"You have not seen Mount Ararat yet,"
he went on. "You have a great treat in store.
It reaches up toward the sky like a mighty
giant.
"It is more than three miles high. The
Persians call it 'Noah's Mountain,' but we
speak of it as the 'Painful Mountain.'"
"We shall not leave Armenia till we have
looked at it," the visitors promised.
But it was growing late and every one was
tired. Artin showed the Americans to their
room, and was soon fast asleep in his own
little bed.
What do you think he saw in his dreams
that night? It was himself riding on the back
of a camel. And where was he going? He
was climbing up the side of Mount Ararat.


46 Our Little Armenian Cousin
And as he climbed, he saw that the sides were
covered with diamonds. He tried to lean far
enough over the side of the camel to reach
them, but, alas! he tumbled off. Then he
waked up only to find he had tumbled out
of his own bed at home.


CHAPTER V.
HUNTING WILD SHEEP
"The spring has come! The spring has
come!" shouted Artin, as he came hurrying
into the house.
"Mariam, I saw a flock of birds flying
northward. It was such a big flock, too.
And mother, the snow is beginning to melt
and is running off" in streams everywhere."
"I felt it in the air this morning," said the
children's mother. "The weather is certainly
much warmer."
She and Mariam followed Artin to the door
and looked out. Yes, the snow was melting
fast, and everything seemed to say: "Spring
is here! Spring is here!"
47


48 Our Little Armenian Cousin
The village had been very quiet for months.
All winter long the women and children had
stayed indoors, and had scarcely ventured out-
side. The cattle and sheep had been kept
shut up in the big dark stables.
But now everybody was stirring. Look!
there was a man driving out a long line of
cows to get the fresh air. How they winked
and blinked in the bright sunlight.
And listen! there was the sound of running
water, as a stream, which had been frozen all
winter, was beginning to rush down the hill-
side. Smaller streams made by the melting
snow ran to join it.
"Look out for accidents to-day," said
Artin's mother, as she stood watching. "Many
a child has been carried off by the mountain
streams at the opening of spring."
"Now, Mariam, do take care of yourself,"
she went on, as the little girl started off with
Artin to go to a neighbour's. "Look out, my


Hunting Wild Sheep 49
child, and do not lose your foothold. Artin,
take good care of your sister."
In an hour the two children came hurrying
home as fast as the bad going would let them.
"Mother! mother! What do you suppose
has happened?" exclaimed Artin. "Little
Sophia was carried off by the stream before
her mother could reach her. She toddled out
into the street when no one was looking."
"Dear me ! dear me !" cried Artin's mother.
"Was she drowned?"
"No, her father got her just in time. But
she lost her senses, and it was a long time
before she knew anything. Poor little thing,
she had a narrow escape."
"Have you learned whether any wolves
have been seen near the village, Artin? They
are pretty daring at this time of the year.
They are so hungry they will venture almost
anywhere in the hope of getting food."
"Yes, I heard one man say he saw two


50 Our Little Armenian Cousin
wolves skulking behind his house. And
where there are two wolves there may be a
dozen."
While they were talking they heard the two
American visitors come into the next room.
The gentlemen had expected to stay only one
night, but Mr. Brown was taken ill. He was
not a strong man, and the journey had been
too much for him.
Artin's father grew very fond of him and his
friend. He found they knew a cousin of his
who had gone to America years ago. Even
when Mr. Brown was quite well again and able
to go on with his travels, the farmer said:
"You had better stay with us another week.
You are fond of hunting and you can find
plenty of wild sheep among our mountains.
There are foxes and gray beavers, too."
The gentlemen were much pleased. They
were in no hurry to leave. They had come
to Armenia to see the country and were glad


Hunting Wild Sheep 51
to have a chance to go hunting. Now the
spring had opened, they were eager for an
adventure.
"The gentlemen seem quite excited," said
the farmer's wife. "I wonder what is the
matter."
"I think I know. They are getting ready
for hunting," said Artin. "They have been
down in the village to find some men to go
with them. You know father doesn't care for
hunting."
Artin had guessed aright. Early the next
morning the party of hunters started out.
"We will bring home a wild sheep for your
mother to roast," Mr. Miller promised Mariam,
as he patted the little girl's cheek.
The wild sheep of Armenia are very different
from tame ones. They look more like deer
than sheep. They have short horns bending
backward. They are very strong. They climb
nimbly about in the highest and most slippery


52 Our Little Armenian Cousin
places. They are shy and are easily fright-
ened.
"Do you really suppose we can get within
shot of them?" asked Mr. Miller of his
friend.
"I hardly dare to hope so, but it will be
great sport and it is worth trying. The head
of the animal would be a curiosity in America.
I should like to take one home very much."
Their guides led the way to the top of the
nearest mountain. It was rough climbing, but
the place was reached at last.
"Now we must be careful," said one of the
hunters in his own language. He was not an
Armenian, but was a Laz. His country is just
beyond Armenia.
The Americans could not understand him
very well, so he made signs to them to creep
along the edges of the cliff and look down over
the slopes.
Mr. Brown had brought his telescope. It



LAZ HUNTERS





Hunting Wild Sheep 53
would help him in discovering any signs of
the wild sheep.
These timid creatures jump and frisk about
on the most dangerous ledges. They seem
to fear nothing in the whole world but
men.
The hunters crept carefully and quietly about
from place to place, looking in every direction.
"Do you see anything moving below us?"
whispered Mr. Miller, after a search of fifteen
minutes.
"There is not the smallest sign of a living
creature," replied his friend.
Just then one of the Laz hunters pointed to
a cleft in the rocks far below. Yes, there were
two sheep sporting together. It almost seemed
as if they were having a game of hide-and-seek.
"But it is too far off. Our shot couldn't
reach them," said Mr. Brown.
The guide pointed again. He showed that
the ledge below where they stood jutted out


54 Our Little Armenian Cousin
and made a little shelf. It was quite a distance
down to this place, but no one was afraid.
There would not be room for all of them,
however. Only two could venture at a time.
"You may go," said Mr. Miller to his
friend. "I will take the next chance."
One of the Laz guides was let down by a
rope. Then Mr. Brown followed him in the
same way. The others leaned over the edge
of the cliff and watched.
The two men who had gone down found
they were still too far away from the sheep.
But they discovered still another foothold
below them. They swung themselves down
to this with the help of the roots of a stunted
tree. They were now barely within gunshot
of the sheep.
Bang! bang! went the guns. But, alas!
both shots missed the marks. The sheep
darted out of sight like the wind and were
never seen again.


Hunting Wild Sheep 55
There was a new trouble for the hunters
now. They could not be seen by their friends
above them on account of a bend in the cliff.
And when they turned to climb to the next
foothold, they found the roots beyond their
reach.
What was to be done now? The Laz guide
made signs to the American to brace himself
against the side of the cliff so he could climb
up on his shoulders.
Mr. Brown understood at once. With all
his might, he pressed himself against the side
of the rock. He even stuck his rifle into a
crevice to make himself more steady.
The guide sprang to his shoulders, caught
hold of the roots, and was soon safe on the
rocky shelf overhead. Then it was an easy
matter for the guide to stretch a rope down to
Mr. Brown and bring him up to his own foot-
hold.
The friends who were waiting at the top of


56 Our Little Armenian Cousin
the cliff could now see and help them. In a
few minutes, all were together once more.
But what of the wild sheep the Americans
hoped to bring home with them? They spent
the day in vain, for they did not even catch
sight of any others.
Artin and Mariam were watching for them
when they reached the farm at nightfall.
"We don't deserve any supper, for we
haven't brought back any game," Mr. Miller
said, laughingly. "Next time, Artin, we must
take you with us. How would you like to be
let down with ropes over the sides of the cliffs?
Would you care enough for wild sheep to do
such things?"
Artin was quite sure he would be satisfied
with mutton from his father's own sheep. He
was not like some boys, for he did not care
very much for exciting adventures.


CHAPTER VI.
QUEER ANIMALS
"Look, Mariam, look! that's a lemming, I
do believe."
It was a bright spring morning and Artin
and his sister were playing on the hillside.
"Sh, sh! I don't want it to see us. It
might spring up and snap at our hands,"
whispered Mariam.
"Nonsense, it will let us alone, if we do not
worry it. See! it is sitting up on its hind legs
now and is wiping its eyes with its fore paws.
Don't move or it will see us and run back
into its hole."
"There is another coming out to join the
first one. They like to feel the warm sunshine
57


Queer Animals 59
"What makes them take the journey?"
"It is probably because their food grows
scarce. At any rate, when they once start out
they travel in a straight line. They don't even
turn aside when they reach a lake or river, but
swim across it."
"Is that so? Some of them must get killed
on the way, for a good-sized fish could easily
kill a lemming."
"Yes, that is what father said. Oh, but I
forgot. He told me that they do turn aside
for a solid rock or a stone wall, for, of course,
they could not make their way through that."
"We must be on the lookout now for the
cara guz and jerboas," said Artin. "They
keep quiet all winter, but they begin to get
lively as the days grow warmer."
"I think the cara guz is a cunning little
thing. Do you remember bringing one home
last year, Artin? It was so fat it could
scarcely walk. It didn't seem a bit afraid of


62 Our Little Armenian Cousin
"But you always can. I never knew you
to fail," said Mariam, putting her arms around
the old lady's neck.
"Well, let me see. I can't think of any-
thing just now, except the story of the first
Christian king in the world."
"We've heard it before, but we would like
it again," said Artin.
"Very well, then. We must go back to the
life of the Lord Jesus and of his wonderful
works among men, — of his healing the leper,
restoring sight to the blind, of his making the
limbs of cripples straight and strong.
"His fame spread through all the country
round, and when King Abgar sent envoys into
the Roman Empire, they brought back word
of Jesus and his works.
"King Abgar was a heathen at that time.
He was suffering from a dreadful disease.
There did not seem to be any hope of his
getting well. When his messengers returned


Queer Animals 63
to Armenia with the news of Jesus' power, he
was greatly interested.
"There are legends in some of our books
that Abgar wrote a letter to Jesus begging the
Saviour to come to Armeaia and lay his hands
upon him. The legend goes on to say that
Jesus directed one of his disciples to write
Abgar an answer saying it was impossible for
him to come.
"Then the messenger asked Jesus to allow
an artist whom he had brought to paint his
picture. But when the artist tried to copy
the Master's beautiful face, his hand failed
him. He could do nothing.
"The Master saw this. He took a towel
and pressed it against his face. Then he
handed it to the messenger. Lo, and be-
hold! the likeness of Jesus' face was printed
on the towel.
"It was carried to Abgar, and as he looked
upon it his sickness left him.


64 Our Little Armenian Cousin
"Of course, this is only a legend, children.
We cannot say it is a true story. But our
history does tell us that Jesus'" apostles visited
Armenia after their Lord's death. Abgar be-
lieved in them, and so did many of his people,
who gave up their heathen belief and became
Christians."
"Why aren't there kings in Armenia any
more?" asked Mariam.
"It is more than five hundred years, my
child, since the last of our kings ruled over us.
He was Levon VI., and his queen's name was
Catherine. Armenia was overrun by fierce
enemies. They came from Egypt, and had
the same belief as the Turks who now rule
over us. They were Mohammedans.
"They came in such numbers that our peo-
ple could do nothing. They burned the vil-
lages and cities. They killed men, women,
and children. They spared no person or
thing. They made a desert of the country.


Queer Animals 65
"They made prisoners of the king and
his family. They carried them to Egypt.
After awhile, the ruler of Spain took pity on
them. He offered valuable presents to their
conquerors to free them. He was success-
ful.
"After that, Levon visited Jerusalem and
different countries of Europe. He died in
Paris, and was buried with great honour. His
body was clothed in royal robes of white. An
open crown was laid upon his head, and a
golden sceptre was placed in his hand. He
was the last king of Armenia."
The old lady spoke the last words slowly
and sadly. But in a moment more she smiled
at the children, saying:
"We must take what comes to us with
patient hearts, my dears. The Lord's will
must be done. I am tired of talking, though.
Run out into the sunshine and play. Watch
the birds that have begun to come among us


CHAPTER VII.
SIGHTS IN THE GREAT CITY
"Yes, you may go," Artin's father prom-
ised. "I shall be away several days, for I
have a good deal of business in the city. But
you have been a good boy, and you ought to
have a little pleasure. So you may ask your
mother to get you ready."
The next morning the bullocks were hitched
to a clumsy cart with two wheels, and Artin
and his father started for the city.
The little boy was dressed in much the same
way as his father. He wore baggy trousers
and a long, loose jacket. It was made of
wadded cotton, and was quite thick. The
sides were split up, making a sort of apron
both in front and behind. He wore slippers
67


68 Our Little Armenian Cousin
on his feet, and a close-fitting cap on his
head.
"He is the very picture of his father," the
neighbours all said. "He is a bright boy, too,
and will do well in business when he grows
up."
"Good-bye, good-bye," called Mariam, as
Artin waved his hand to her, and the bullocks
trotted off down the rough road.
The heavy cart was seldom used, except in
going about the village, so it was quite a
change for the bullocks as well as for the
farmer's little son.
As they drove along, the father told Artin
about the different parts of the country which
the boy had never seen. He told him of the
rich vineyards where luscious grapes were
raised. He described the gardens where
melons grew to be very large.
"Why, Artin, I have seen a camel whose
load was made up of only two watermelons.


70 Our Little Armenian Cousin
"I never had any such adventures myself,
Artin. But, I must say, our mountain passes
are not safe from those wicked men.
"Most of them are Kurds or Lazis. When
they have nothing else to do, they leave their
own homes and cross over into the borders of
Armenia. They seek the lonely spots in the
mountain passes and lie in wait for travellers.
They rob them, torture them, and sometimes
even kill them, as I have already said."
"But the Sultan's soldiers are all through
our country. Why don't they drive out the
brigands?"
"The Sultan doesn't care what they do,
Artin. Besides, he is probably glad if he
hears of the brigands killing any Armenians.
The Sultan is a bad, bad man. When I was
a little boy like you he had a war with Russia.
"Before it began the Sultan called a meet-
ing of his leading men. He asked them what
they thought about such a war. They knew


Sights in the Great City 71
he wished it, so no one dared to speak against
it, except one brave, wise man.
"He told the ruler this story:
"' Once upon a time there was a miser.
The king was displeased with him, and gave
him the choice of three things. He must eat
five pounds of raw onions at one meal; and
he must eat nothing else with them. Or, he
must have five hundred lashes of the whip on
his bare back. Or, he must pay the king five
hundred dollars.
"' The miser thought it all over. He could
not bear to give up so much money. Neither
did he believe he could live through such a
terrible flogging. So he said, "I will eat the
onions."
"' But after he had eaten a part of them, he
became so sick he was not able to swallow any
more. Then he made up his mind to take the
whipping.
"' When he had taken about a hundred of


72 Our Little Armenian Cousin
the lashes, he began to see that the whole
of them would kill him. He was forced, at
last, to pay the money. So the greedy miser,
who had a choice of three evils in the
beginning, ended by taking all three of
them.'
"Now, my son, what do you suppose the
wise man's story meant? It was this:
"If the Sultan went to war with Russia, he
would lose many soldiers to begin with. In
the next place, he would be sure to lose a part
of his empire. He would end by having to
pay large sums of money to his conqueror.
"He was very angry with the wise man who
had told him this story. He did not take his
advice, but began the war. And it all turned
out as the honest man had said.
"Did you ever hear what the people in
other countries call the Sultan, Artin?" his
father went on. "They speak of him as the
'Sick Man of Europe.'"


Sights in the Great City 73
Artin and his father had now been several
hours on the way and they had almost reached
the city gates.
"See those children," said Artin, pointing
ahead.
A mule was moving at a slow pace over the
road. It was no wonder, for he had a heavy
load. A woman was sitting on his back and
two little children were hanging in baskets
fastened on either side of the saddle.
"The road is so rough that the children
cannot be comfortable," said Artin's father.
Just then the mule floundered in the mud.
The baskets were jostled so roughly that one
of the children tumbled out and fell head-fore-
most into the mud.
Artin jumped from the cart and, running
ahead, picked up the screaming child. Its
poor little face was black with dirt. Its hair
was plastered with mud.
The mother thanked him, and, after tucking


74 Our Little Armenian Cousin
the little one into its basket, went on her
journey. She was a pretty woman, with large
black eyes and rosy cheeks. But her face was
almost hidden by the veil which Armenian
women wear when they are outdoors.
Her bright red cloak, reaching almost to
her ankles, was wrapped closely around her
body. Her large baggy trousers could hardly
be seen. She was dressed in the same manner
as Artin's mother and all the other women he
knew.
His people do not change their fashions from
year to year, like their American cousins.
They resemble many other Eastern people in
their clothing. The style of their grandmothers
and great-grandmothers is good enough for
them.
By this time, the farmer and his son were
entering the city.
Erzeroum was at one time a fortress, and
even now it is surrounded by walls. There



IN ERZEROUM





Sights in the Great City 75
were numbers of people moving along the
streets. They belonged to different races, for
many of them had come here from Persia,
Turkey, and other countries, to live among the
Armenians.
Most of them were dressed very gaily, and
Artin was kept busy admiring the bright scarlet
robes, the jackets embroidered with gold, and
the robes of brilliant green and white.
A procession of camels with their drivers
came along with slow and swaying tread. The
beasts seemed very patient under their heavy
burdens.
"Did you ever ride on a camel, father?"
asked Artin.
"When I was a little boy about your age,
Artin, I tried it. I shall never forget how
sick I was after five minutes on the creature's
back. Of course, you have noticed how the
camel walks. He first throws forward both
legs on one side of his body, then those on the


76 Our Little Armenian Cousin
other side. This makes a swinging, sideways
motion which at first is unpleasant.
"The second time I tried to ride one, I did
not mind it as much as at first."
"You had to be careful when you took your
seat on its back. I know that," said Artin.
"I have often watched camels get up from the
ground. They raise their hind legs first, and
they do it in such a sudden, jerky way that the
rider will be thrown off unless he is used to it
and on the lookout."
"Artin, I wish you to look at that beauti-
ful church ahead of us. Our people are very
proud of it. Do you see the fine stone slabs
on the roof and around the doorways?
"Cut stone is very expensive, and there are
few good masons who prepare it. So it hap-
pened that our priests thought of a new way
to get it. They said to the people, 'The
tombstones of your dead friends do them no
good. But they would be of great help in


Sights in the Great City 77
building the church. It would be a fine thing
if each one of you should give us one of those
tombstones.'
w The people were delighted with the idea.
Many of them brought the stones on their
own backs."
"It is a beautiful church," said Artin. "I
think it is the finest thing I have seen in
the city. I hate the sight of those Turkish
mosques. I suppose the Turks think all
those little towers and spires are very pretty,
but I don't like them."
"There is a street writer," said the father.
He pointed to a man sitting on a carpet in the
shade of a house. His legs were crossed
under him. He was writing a letter for a
Turkish woman who stood beside him.
"I like to watch him," said Artin. "He
keeps the paper flat on the palm of his hand
and writes with that pointed stick. I am glad I
know how to do my own letter-writing, though."


78 Our Little Armenian Cousin
"Yes, Artin. Our people think more of
learning than the lazy Turks. I do not wish
you to be ignorant when you grow up. You
must study your lessons well and be faithful to
them."
"I should like to be a trader when I grow
up," said Artin, as he looked curiously at the
storekeepers sitting by their goods.
The stores were quite different from those
in America. Many of them had no fronts at
all. Can you imagine the lower story of a
house with no wall facing the street? Then
you can picture the store where Artin and his
father stopped to trade.
The shopkeeper sat on a mat with his goods
all around him. If the day had been stormy
he would have been wrapped up in a blanket.
But the sun was shining brightly, and the
weather was warm. He was quite comfortable
without any extra covering.
He was slowly sipping a cup of tea. He


Sights in the Great City 79
acted for all the world as though he had noth-
ing to do but enjoy himself.
As Artin's father got out of the cart and
came up to him, the storekeeper scarcely lifted
his eyes. He did not seem to care whether he
sold his goods or not.
"Another of those lazy Turks," whispered
the father to his son. Then he stepped up
to the trader and asked to see his wares.
The Armenian did not act hurried
or anxious. Oh, no, that would not hwve
done at all. It would have made the
Turk charge too great a price for the
goods. As it was, the man asked far more
than the things were worth. Yes, twice as
much.
Artin's father curled up his lip and turned
to go. At the same time he said, "I will pay
you half the sum. But I don't care very
much for the cloth, anyway."
He left the store, and Artin followed close


82 Our Little Armenian Cousin
"The poor creatures are tired and thirsty.
They have caught sight of a drinking-trough
and are longing for water," answered his father.
The camels drew near with their driver.
He was a Persian. He was very dirty and his
clothes were in rags.
As the caravan drew up in front of the
khan, the driver turned and said something to
the camels. They went down on their knees
with a grunt. Then down came their hind
legs. They had been trained to obey their
master's voice instantly, and, although he spoke
few words to them, they seemed to understand
exactly what he wished them to do.
"They have come all the way from Bagdad,"
the innkeeper told Artin. "And they are going
to carry their loads to the seacoast on the
north. Then their burdens will be lifted from
their backs and placed on board the ships that
sail across the sea to Europe."
"Poor camels! They look old and tired.


Sights in the Great City 83
Their lives are hard. How wise they seem!"
said the little boy, as he threw himself down
on a couch and was soon fast asleep.
And what was Artin's father doing all this
evening? He was going from place to place
among his friends and trying to find some one
who would buy his farm.
Can you guess the reason?
Ever since the visit of the Americans, the
farmer and his wife had been talking together
about a new home across the ocean.
Sad things were happening in Armenia.
Many men and women lost their lives through
no fault of their own. And the Turkish ruler
had power to do with the people as he pleased.
It was hard, very hard, indeed. Yet the
more the farmer thought about it, the wiser it
seemed to take his family to America.
"Artin and Mariam are so young they will
not be homesick. But it will not be easy for
my good wife," thought the farmer. "As for


84 Our Little Armenian Cousin
my mother and my dear old grandmother, I
do not know what to do. I fear the change
would kill them."
When he spoke to them about it, both of the
old women said, "No, no, we cannot leave
our country. No matter what comes, we will
stay in Armenia. But you must go and take
your wife and children. America is great and
good. You will all be happy there."
Artin had an uncle who lived in Erzeroum,
and it was settled that the old women should
now make their home with him.
All this time the children knew nothing of
the new plans.
But when the business was done and the
farmer started home with his little boy, he told
him that the farm was sold and that he would
soon leave beautiful Armenia and sail far away
on a great steamer.
"It is a secret," said his father. "You
must not speak of it to any one. We must get


Sights in the Great City 85
away as quietly as possible, or our rulers may
prevent it."
Artin was both glad and sorry. It would be
great fun to sail on the ocean which he had
never yet even seen. There would be many
new things in the strange country of America.
When Mariam heard the news she went up
on the housetop with her brother, and both
children began to cry.
"Our pretty sheep!" said the little girl.
"We must say good-bye to them all!"
"And the dogs and cats," said Artin.
"Father says we must leave them behind."
"But we will make new friends in that
beautiful America, and I hope mother will stop
looking sad and frightened there," said Mariam,
drying her tears.
THE END.





L. ft PAGE 6- COMPANY'S
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TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY
THE GIANT SCISSORS
BIG BROTHER
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THE RESCUE OF PRINCESS WINSOME: A
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New illustrated edition, uniform with the Little Colonel
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THE LITTLE COLONEL GOOD TIMES BOOK
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BORN TO THE BLUE. By Florence Kimbalk
R.UssEL.
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The atmosphere of army life on the plains breathes on
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A—i


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By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON
THE LITTLE COLONEL (Trade Mark.)
The scene of this story is laid in Kentucky. Its hero-
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are famous in the region.
THE GIANT SCISSORS
This is the story of Joyce and of her adventure in
France. Joyce is a great friend of the Little Colonel,
and in later volumes shares with her the delightful ex-
periences of the " House Party" and the " Holidays."
TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY
Who Were the Little Colonel's Neighbors.
In this volume the Little Colonel returns to us like an
old friend, but with added grace and charm. She is not,
however, the central figure of the story, that place being
taken by the " two little knights."
MILDRED'S INHERITANCE
A delightful little story of a lonely English girl who
comes to America and is befriended by a sympathetic
American family who are attracted by her beautiful
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abled to help a school-girl who has temporarily lost the
use of her eyes, and thus finally her life becomes a busj-
happy one.
A-11


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE
By EDITH ROBINSON
A LITTLE PURITAN'S FIRST CHRISTMAS
A story of Colonial times in Boston, telling how Christ-
mas was invented by Betty Sewall, a typical child »f the
Puritans, aided by her brother Sam.
A LITTLE DAUGHTER OF LIBERTY
The author introduces this story as follows:
"One ride is memorable in the early history of the
American Revolution, the well-known ride of Paul
Revere. Equally deserving of commendation is another
ride, — the ride of Anthony Severn, — which was no less
historic in its action or memorable in its oonsequences."
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID
A delightful and interesting story of Revolutionary
days, in which the child heroine, Betsey Schuyler, renders
important services to George Washington.
A LITTLE PURITAN REBEL
This is an historical tale of a real girl, during the time
when the gallant Sir Harry Vane was governor of Massa-
chusetts.
A LITTLE PURITAN PIONEER
The scene of this story is laid in the Puritan settlement
at Charlestown.
A LITTLE PURITAN BOUND GIRL
A story of Boston in Puritan days, which is of great
interest to youthful readers.
A LITTLE PURITAN CAVALIER
The story of a "Little Puritan Cavalier" who tried
with all his boyish enthusiasm to emulate the spirit and
ideals of the dead Crusaders.
A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT
The story tells of a young lad in Colonial times who
endeavored to carry out the high ideals of the knight*
of olden days.
A—13





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