I knew an old Syrian grandmother in Tripoli who would not kiss her granddaughter for six months after she was born, because she was born a girl!  But I know another family in that city of Tripoli that do not treat girls in that style.  The father is Mr. Antonius Yanni, a good Christian man, and a member of the Mission Church.  He is American Vice Consul, and on the top of his house is a tall flag-staff, on which floats the stars and stripes, on Fourth of July, and the Sultan’s birthday, Queen Victoria’s birthday, and other great feast days.  One day when the Tripoli women heard that “Sitt Karimeh, Yanni’s wife, had another “bint,” (girl) they came in crowds to comfort her in her great affliction!  When Yanni heard of it, he could not restrain himself.  He loved his older daughter Theodora very dearly, and was thankful to God for another sweet baby girl, so he told the women that he would have none of this heathenish mourning in his house.  He then shouted to his janizary or Cawass, a white bearded old Moslem named Amr, “Amr, haul up the Bandaira el Americaniyeh, (American flag) to show the world how glad I am that I have another daughter.”  “On my head, on my head, sir,” said Amr, and away he went and hauled up the stars and stripes.  Now the Pasha’s palace is not far away, and soon the Turkish guards saw the flag, and hastened to the Pasha with the news that the American Consul had some great feast day, as his flag was raised.  The Pasha, supposing it to be some important national feast day of the American Government which he was so stupid as not to know about, sent his Chief Secretary at once to Mr. Yanni to ask what feast it might be?  Yanni received him politely and ordered a narghileh and coffee and sherbet, and after saying “good-morning,” and “may you live forever,” and “God prolong your days!” over and over and over again, and wishing that Doulet America might ever flourish, the Secretary asked which of the great American festivals he was celebrating that day.  Yanni laughed and said, “Effendum, you know how many of the ignorant in Syria are so foolish as to mourn and lament when God sends them a daughter, but I believe that all God’s gifts are good, and that daughters are to be valued as much as sons, and to rebuke this foolish notion among the people, I put up my flag as a token of joy and gratitude.”  “Sebhan Allah! you have done right, sir,” ... was the Secretary’s reply, and away he went to the Pasha.  What the Pasha said, I do not know, but there was probably more cursing than usual that day in the grand palace of Tripoli, for the Mohammedans think the birth of a daughter a special judgment from God.

When a boy is born, there is great rejoicing.  Presents are sent to him, and the people call to congratulate the father, and the whole house is gay and joyous.  After a few days a dainty dish called “Mughly” is made and sent around as a present to all of the relatives.  It is made of pounded rice, and flavored with rich spices and sugar and put into little bowls, and almonds and other nuts sprinkled over the top.  One of these little bowls is sent to each of the friends.  But when a girl is born, there is no rejoicing, no giving of presents, and no making of the delicious “mughly.”