THE HOLY LAND

SAMPLES Of CONSTANTINOPLE'S BRAND OF "WHITE WINGS." IT'S A SIGHT FOR GODS AND MEN TO SEE THESE JOLLY DOGS GOBBLE THE TURKISH TIDBITS AFTER THE SUN HAS SETSAMPLES Of CONSTANTINOPLE'S BRAND OF "WHITE WINGS." IT'S A SIGHT FOR GODS AND MEN TO SEE THESE JOLLY DOGS GOBBLE THE TURKISH TIDBITS AFTER THE SUN HAS SET

Limited space forbids the further description of things that are wonderful and interesting, but a few words must be said in regard to facts we would rather not think about. The population is about 1,125,000, and most visitors think there is a mangy, flea-bitten dog for each inhabitant; but the official dog census has placed the canine population at about 125,000. The dogs of Stamboul and Constantinople are a necessity and a book might be written about them alone, as they have ruled these cities from a sanitary point of view for over a thousand years. If they did not set out at night and partially clean up the town, Heaven only knows what it would be like! Their sway is undisputed, and woe betide him who either hurts or kills them—he is a marked man, not only by the Moslems but by the followers of other religions. They have no distinctive owners and just live by their wits, which are keen to an advanced degree; they have rules of the road of their own making, and the luckless cur that breaks them is put out of business in the twinkling of an eye. No one likes them, but they are a thoroughly protected nuisance, for that protection means life to the people. Without their services as devourers the population would die like flies, from epidemics and pestilence. All attempts at doing away with the dogs have resulted in riots and bloodshed: when Mehemet II. rounded them up and exiled them to an island, a great epidemic immediately set in and the rioters compelled the Sultan at the point of the sword to bring them back again. A later attempt was made by an Ottoman chief-of-police to deport these canine "white wings" to Asia Minor: he threw them overboard when out of sight of land, and when this was made public the mob literally tore him limb from limb. So it does not pay to monkey with the Sultan's pets in the home of their nativity. Although no one would suspect it, they have a high order of intelligence and an acute instinct for local government. By some unwritten law they divide the town into districts with sharply defined boundaries invisible to the human eye, yet plainly apparent to the animal. If an intruder crosses this line he is sorry for it before he reaches his first bone. The neighboring dogs pounce on him from all directions, biting his legs, tail and ears, but stopping short when they in turn reach the line, for fear they may also get into trouble for trespassing. When one of the members of a district becomes sick and helpless his comrades do not wait for him to die; they just eat him up and have done with it. So no one ever sees a dead dog in Stamboul: professional pride andesprit de corpsstep in, and the victim is wafted to the happy hunting grounds in less time than it takes to tell of it.

The porters are celebrated for their great strength and the big loads they can carry. To see them do their work is a most interesting sight: four of them will carry a great cask filled with fluid and suspended from two poles placed on their shoulders—a fair load for a team of horses. They carry these loads with the aid of ingenious appliances and harness, and the amount of lumber, coal, dressed beef and live animals they transport for short distances is simply incredible.

Soldiers are drilling everywhere and a raw lot they are. The treasury is empty, and many of them have only one shoe, and some none at all, only a coarse stocking bound round with rags. They may be experts at killing women and children, but they would make a sorry showing against trained soldiers. And then there are the "battleships:" fierce, devilish-looking bulldogs that could demolish any tin-lined fort in existence if they could only hit it, or even if the sailors could manage to fire the guns—or in fact, if only the guns could be fired by any one—which is exceedingly doubtful.

In smells, the vilest of the vile, including the acrid variety that cuts the nostrils like a razor, Constantinople stands forever and alone on a plinth of infamy, and no language that can be dragged into the arena of expression can be utilized to describe them. They paralyze the intellect and dull the sense of punishment and acute agony. No gladiator could enter the lists with them in deadly combat and live to tell the tale. They arise in part from the debris and remnants of cheese whose position in the flight of time was contemporaneous with that of Alexander the Great; from fish that must have darted beneath the keels of the ships at the battle of Salamis; from tallow, used to grease the chariot wheels at the battle of Marathon (now sold as butter); and from the embalmed beef that was left over from the Crimean War. These with many powerful additions supply the main force and foundation of all this pervading "sweetness;" but the distinguishing "high lights" come from minor causes, such as the onions of last year rotting in nets hanging in the sun, strings of garlic returned to circulation by the Argonauts when they came back from hunting the golden fleece, but now hung as a badge of trade on the door-jambs; and the frying of eggs, that have long lost their market value, with Bombaygheeand young garlic, the whole mellowed and perhaps refined by the continual vapors from open sewers. One fragrance that perhaps tickles the olfactory nerve with more delicacy than all others and might be called a perfumed "dream," comes from baking a garlic pie piping hot in the open, with Turkish Limburger as a substantial ingredient. This zephyr when in full action sets at naught the vain attempt of asafoetida to hold its place in the history of smells that used to rank with Araby the Blest. If Alexander had inhaled one whiff of this combination in its full purity it would have floored him in Constantinople and he could not have lived to conquer the world. One of the "Corks" fainted when he hit the embalmed beef zone and was taken to the rear in a red cross ambulance.

A CROWD AT THE CHURCH OF THE HOLY SEPULCHRE, JERUSALEM, WAITING FOR THE DOORS TO OPEN. EACH TRIBE IS IMPATIENT TO ENTER AND OCCUPY ITS OWN SPACEA CROWD AT THE CHURCH OF THE HOLY SEPULCHRE, JERUSALEM, WAITING FOR THE DOORS TO OPEN. EACH TRIBE IS IMPATIENT TO ENTER AND OCCUPY ITS OWN SPACE

The sights in these places are too dreadful for publication, and as for the taste—well, I tried a speck of fried sausage and thought I had touched a live wire! it left a scar on my tongue. We made a special excursion to see these sights and experience the smells. The driver of our carriage took advantage of a stop to take a drink at a Turkishcafé; the procession of vehicles began to move, and as we were in the middle of it our horses had to move too. This left us without a driver and I had to mount his seat and drive half a mile at a walk before our man caught up with us. In the crowded, narrow streets this experience was not a pleasant one, but I did the best I could and nothing happened of note excepting that in turning a sharp corner the team ran up on the sidewalk, from which I was chased with wild gestures and eastern profanity by a Turkish son of a wooden gun, much to the amusement of the natives and the rest of the procession. Still, the Turks, who are steeped in these conditions, seem to enjoy them: they laugh and joke at the unsuccessful attempts of the outlander to acquire their tastes. If they are happy, why should we object?

THIS IS QUEEN HATSHEPSET'S DE-AL-BAHARA TEMPLE AT THEBES, ORNAMENTED WITH FINE GOLD. THE ORIGINAL METHODS BY WHICH 'HATTY' SWIPED THE MONEY TO BUILD THIS TEMPLE LEAVE WALL STREET TIED TO THE HITCHING POST AT THE SUB-TREASURY STEPSTHIS IS QUEEN HATSHEPSET'S DE-AL-BAHARA TEMPLE AT THEBES, ORNAMENTED WITH FINE GOLD. THE ORIGINAL METHODS BY WHICH "HATTY" SWIPED THE MONEY TO BUILD THIS TEMPLE LEAVE WALL STREET TIED TO THE HITCHING POST AT THE SUB-TREASURY STEPS

The costumes of the Turk are without number: there is no cut nor pattern of garment that is not embraced in their fashion plates and the colors run riot through all the gamut of the rainbow. But, seriously, they beat all other nations in the arrangement of their head-dress; no Turk is too poor or too low in caste to devote his time and attention to what he wears on his head. Of course, the rich ones have immense turbans, woven with stranded ropes of cloth in bright parti-colors, placed on the head as a finish to the toilet with as much care as a wedding cake is posed on a table; but thepoorTurk takes a red fez as a basis to build on, and will, with cheese-cloth, or a strip of old toweling, or a wisp of worn-out silk and some feathers, turn out an effect that it is almost impossible to imitate even where ample facilities are at hand. Some of them wear their turbans well back on the head, some pitched forward, many with a rake to the side; but all with the artistic instinct that compels instant admiration. They are the "old masters" of headgear and their masterpieces may be seen by the thousand in any crowded street.

OUR HOSPITABLE HOST AND HOSTESS IN THEIR SALON WHERE THEY ENTERTAINED US AT JERUSALEMOUR HOSPITABLE HOST AND HOSTESS IN THEIR SALON WHERE THEY ENTERTAINED US AT JERUSALEM

About the time we were in Constantinople, the new Turkish political force known the world over as the "Young Turks' movement," was just springing into life. The members of this body were eager to meet and mix with visitors and obtain their views and opinions of the probabilities of success, and a general endorsement of their work; so it was no trouble to have them visit us on theCork, as she lay at anchor at the mouth of the Golden Horn. We conversed with them freely and listened to the recital of their wrongs and how they proposed to right and correct them. Political corruption and "graft," they said, were rampant everywhere, destroying the country and blighting every enterprise and industry. A Young Turk told me that many manufactories would be started were it not that the rapacity of the horde of petty officials was such that all must get a share of the spoils before a license could be granted, and that paying this toll would amount to much more than the cost of the factory. From the sultan down to the smallest custom house official, all must get a squeeze out of the victim whom they meet in any kind of business. The appellation, "The Sick Man of the East," presents in brief the picture of an unwholesome looking man, who is allowed to sit tight on his throne and plunder his people because the Powers can't agree on the division of his empire. When one looks at Abdul in his carriage one sees at a glance a coffee-colored knave who, when he gazes at the crowd from behind the mask of his face, is simply engaged in scheming a new twist in "graft," and wondering whether or not they can stand it and live. The Sultan is an expert pistol-shot and has killed many native visitors without the slightest proof that they were about to do him harm; if they made a suspicious movement of any kind he shot them down in cold blood and had them thrown into the Bosphorus. Abdul had an eye on the main chance and did not consider it wise to have all his eggs in one basket, so he deposited the hundred million dollars he wrung from his people—what is called his "private fortune"—in banks all over the world. The Young Turks are after this "pile," and he is not likely to retain it all and save his neck from the rope. Perhaps his most horrible crime was instigating the annihilation of 360,000 Armenians: this act alone places him on the pedestal of infamy for all time. But the pedestal is rocking, and his hour is near at hand. His territory in Europe has shrunk from 230,000 to 60,000 square miles. In a little while there won't be much left to divide, but there are other forces at work, and these serious natives tell you that nothing can now stop the progress of the task they are engaged in and that the days of the sultan are numbered. We believed in their sincerity and determination, and wished them every success. As a wind-up it will perhaps amuse the reader to note the high-sounding list of titles that the sultan—this "cutpurse and king of shreds and patches"—has given to himself. Here they are, all fresh roasted, with a few added words to fill in the interstices of his portrait:

THE SULTAN'S TITLES

"Abdul Hamid, Beloved Sultan of Sultans, Emperor of Emperors;"

"The Shadow of God upon the Earth;"

"Brother of the Sun"—(TimesandTribune);

"Dispenser of Crowns"—(half-crowns and tu'penny-bits)—"to Those who Sit upon Thrones"—(and gunny-bags);

"Sovereign of Constantinople"—(and of all its mangy, flea-bitten dogs);

Easy Boss of Broussa, as well as Damascus, which is the "Scent of Paradise;"

"King of Kings"—(and two-spots); whose army is the asylum of "graft" and dummy guns; at the foot of whose throne sits Justice with the bandage off one eye so she can watch the coin!

SMYRNA

We left Constantinople without regret and steamed up into the Black Sea, making a circle in it, and then returned down into the Sea of Marmora, so as to get a good view of both the Asiatic and European sides of the city; then out, through the Dardanelles and on to Smyrna. This passage was all over classic ground, and every mile of it has made history for thousands of years.

Smyrna has 225,000 people, and is the cleanest and most respectable city the Turks own. In ancient times Croesus lived here after he had made his pile, and at the present day great numbers of wealthy men make it their home, and there is a good deal of luxury seen in the suburbs. It has the trade from Asia Minor. Homer was born here, and wrote and sang his immortal poetry along its rocky shores. It was conquered by Alexander the Great, and after he had destroyed it he ordered it rebuilt a few miles farther off so as not to forget it, and it became very prosperous. The Knights of Malta and the Arabs fought the Turks for many years for its possession, but the Turks have held it against all comers up to date. It was shaken down to ruins by an earthquake in 180 A.D., and this was followed by disastrous shocks in 1688, 1788, and 1880.

Its great trade is in figs, dates, sponges, silks, and rugs; but the greatest of these is the rug. These stuffs come in loaded on long trains of camels. I may say that no one has any idea of what this animal is like if he has only seen it in a zoo or in a circus parade. I watched the trains by the hour with absorbing interest. The professional, business camel is a big, fine, intelligent animal, who carries himself with the utmost dignity and strides along looking neither to the right nor the left, refusing to take notice of any noise or disturbance that would—and often does—upset his owners, whom he follows with implicit confidence. He is willing to make an honest and prompt return for his food and the care that is given him. I could not help thinking that if a man from Mars came down and did not know the conditions here, he would think the camel was master, and not the noisy crowd that surrounded him.

St. Polycarp, the second Bishop of Smyrna, was executed here because he would not recant his faith; he was a disciple of the Apostle John, and this incident shows the antiquity of the place.

The trade of Smyrna exceeds that of Constantinople: five thousand people are engaged in making rugs, but the best ones are brought in on camel back from seven hundred miles away. They have a curious way of selling the rugs that arrive from the interior: the dealer must buy the unopened bales with no opportunity to examine the rugs, so it is really a lottery and feeds the desire for gambling that prevails in business dealings in the Orient.

Smyrna is a beautiful, oriental city; it produces nothing, but exchanges everything and gets a shave for doing it: it is the home of Eastern luxury and of the finest women in Asia. Much more could be written about this city with a guide-book as a basis of information, but it would not be interesting produced in this way.

We heard a native "ragtime" band, playing tom-tomic strains—the lyric style of dinner-gong music that tears holes in the air. The leader was an imitator of Sousa and had his gymnastic eccentricities down to a fine point. He executed a fantasia on his horn of plenty that brought a shower of silver on the stage. We were told that the members of the orchestra were called the "Flowers of Music from Stamboul," and were working their passage to the "halls" of the European capitals. May the

JAFFA

Our next stopping place was Jaffa, the port of Jerusalem. The water at the landing is very rough, but the sturdy natives jump into the boats and show rare skill in handling the passengers, tossing them round like sheep into safe spots of vantage in the large boats used for disembarkation.

Jaffa has a population of 35,000. It is celebrated for its fine oranges, which grow in profusion about the city to the extent of 8,000,000 oranges every year. It has fine trains of camels, and 15,000 pilgrims to the Holy Land pass through it annually, many of them Russian pilgrims. It costs them about $60 to make the trip, and many of them spend their lives in saving this money for the purpose. The railroad to Jerusalem is fifty-four miles long. Simon the tanner was born here; his house was supposed to be on the hillside, but another house farther down the hill at the water-front was agreed on by those financially interested, so as to have something notable to show the visitor just as he stepped from the gang-plank. A guide said to us, pointing out a thirty-year old fig tree:

"Dar is de feeg tree de great man preech under all dose years ago; long time, ain't it?"

The streets are narrow and crooked, no room for vehicles, so we had to trek about two miles to the railroad station, the baggage being sent there by teams. After getting on the train we ran through orange, fig, olive, lemon, pomegranate and date groves, then over a great flat, fertile plain, the Plain of Sharon, fifty miles long and averaging eight miles wide, ploughed by camels, oxen and horses. This gave way to lands not so good, but covered by a great variety of flowers, followed by stony patches, and finally by ranges of bare, rocky mountains with but little vegetation on them and quite forbidding and desolate in their appearance; but every mile was historic ground. We were shown the town said to be the Arimathea of the New Testament, and the Crusaders' Tower, one hundred and twenty feet high. Here Samuel was a judge and Israel asked for a king. Then the Hill of Gezer, with ruins of the old city presented to Solomon by Pharaoh as a dowry for his daughter. Now we see Zorah, the birthplace of Samson, where the Ark was held up by the Philistines before they returned it to the Israelites, fearing it would bring a curse on them, and also where he tied burning brands to the foxes' tails so as to set fire to the ripening crops.

THE MOSQUE OF OMAR, JERUSALEM--"THE FINEST BUILDING IN THE EAST." THE TURKS AND MOHAMMEDANS WASH THEIR FEET IN THE DRINKING FOUNTAINS HERE, BUT THAT, OF COURSE, IS A MERE DETAIL. IT CLEARLY SHOWS, HOWEVER, THE COURAGEOUS FREEDOM AND _SANS SOUCI_ OF THE PEOPLETHE MOSQUE OF OMAR, JERUSALEM—"THE FINEST BUILDING IN THE EAST." THE TURKS AND MOHAMMEDANS WASH THEIR FEET IN THE DRINKING FOUNTAINS HERE, BUT THAT, OF COURSE, IS A MERE DETAIL. IT CLEARLY SHOWS, HOWEVER, THE COURAGEOUS FREEDOM ANDSANS SOUCIOF THE PEOPLE

Farther along we come to Bittir, so strongly fortified that it took the Romans three years to capture it, costing them the lives lost in the horrible massacre described in the Talmud—one of the largest in all history.

And now the train stops at Jerusalem. This railroad is a tiny affair, and the officials marked up the class of some of its carriages by painting out one numeral from "II," leaving it a "I" class carriage, thus turning a second into a first just to keep up the spirit of deception that is the potent atmosphere of the Holy Land. But we were in Jerusalem and didn't care a rap, even though the varnish on the seats was wet and we were stuck to them like limpets to a rock in the sea.

It was quite a strain on the Holy City to take care of such a crowd, but all was well managed and we were comfortably stowed away somewhere (many in convents), and only the most confirmed "kickers" could offer any fair objection to the arrangements.

JERUSALEM

Very few writers and hardly any lecturers and speakers who have visited Jerusalem have told the truth about it, or if some of them have, they told only the pleasant part of it. In fact, it has usually been given a treble coat of whitewash, entirely misleading to those who are to follow them. When the writer holds Jerusalem to be the greatest of historical cities with all the reverence due to it, and yet finds it in the hands of the Turkish government—which does not know the meaning of truth nor of honesty; which by its example prostitutes every decent feeling in the minds of the people to its own base ends, and permits the barefaced robbery and oppression, not only of the visitor but of its own citizens—then I say the modern writer has a delicate task to perform in describing it, for in relating the facts he might seem to be railing and scoffing at religion and biblical history, whereas nothing is farther from his mind or his intention. Everything is so interwoven that it is hard to separate the serious and truthful from the ridiculous and fraudulent. This deceit is not alone of to-day; it goes back to the times when landmarks and historic evidences were obliterated by wars, earthquakes and revolutions, and when all traces of locations during these upheavals of centuries were lost and covered withdébrissometimes one hundred and fifty feet deep, the city of Jerusalem itself not having a single inhabitant for over fifty years in one period of its history. Then the "holy men" of those old days saw at once their opportunity to make religion both popular and paying, as well as the necessity for doing so, and they therefore invented a system of "pious frauds" by selecting bogus sites on particular spots for this, that, and the other incident which occurred in the great religious dramas in the Holy Land. These selections gave the ignorant, to whom they wholly appealed, some material, practical object on which to lay hold—something to worship which they could see and feel; and this was where the profit lay. Thus we find that there are crowded in the rooms of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre over thirty "sacred sites." There is the exact spot where the clay was found to make Adam; Adam's grave; the tears of the Virgin petrified in the form of a cross. Then there is the Stone of Unction; near by the Chapel of the Parted Raiment, where Christ's clothes were gambled for; again, the spot where He was crowned with thorns; the place where they scourged Him; that spot beyond is where they nailed Him to the cross—and the hole for the cross has been carefully cut out, no doubt by the best local stone-cutter not so many years ago. Then there is the long story of the finding of the true cross—but why further speak of these absurd fictions, intended to fool and work upon the poor Greek, Armenian, Syrian, Latin, Copt, Abyssinian and Russian pilgrims—in fact, all who are ignorant and credulous and will givebakshishto these fat and sleek bandits, who never did an honest day's work in their lives and who couldn't be driven with a shotgun to do any kind of labor! At birth they are dedicated to organized robbery and oppression and they have no thought of disturbing this dedication—not if they know it! For fees, they show the "Cradle," a heavy, marble bath tub that would take many men to rock it with a crowbar. They exhibit the "Manger," also in marble (!), that never had a straw in it, and if you seem credulous they will tell you anything they think you will swallow. I pretended to believe them, and in consequence got a load of lies that would have made Ananias clap his hands with joy. And so onad infinitum! By one "holy" pretence and another they rob these poor victims of their money till it is all gone, when they are allowed to go home as best they may. All religions, including the Roman Catholic and the Protestant, should combine to form a universal commission, which should be supplied with funds raised by public subscription the world over for the purpose of regulating Jerusalem. The objectionable buildings and "fake" objects should be razed to the ground, and it should be the duty of this commission to set forth and establish the authentic, historical sites and locations as nearly as reasoning and induction can locate them, and it should also be its province to see that proper treatment, protection and accommodation are given the poor pilgrims who go there annually; the rich and educated can take care of themselves.

The whole city is in a most disgusting state—unclean, vile and unspeakable in almost every respect; it is the sink of Christendom and its condition is a disgrace to humanity and to all sects of religion.

Jerusalem is a very old city: Abraham lived there and it was David's capital. When Solomon was king it was one of the mighty and magnificent cities of the world. Sixteen sieges have destroyed it, and the city of to-day is really built on the ruins of its seven predecessors. How utterly preposterous, then, is it for any one to attempt to identify the sacred places! The present population is 60,000. It is a walled city and has eleven gates. The Mosque of Omar is its principal feature; this was completed by Solyman the Magnificent in 1561; parts of the construction were done by the Crusaders. It has a noble dome and is a masterpiece of architectural beauty; it is said to be one of the finest buildings in Asia.

In the Church of the Holy Sepulchre the various sects have certain portions allotted to them for worship; the lines between them are guarded by armed soldiers, and if even an unintentional trespass is committed, a bloody riot usually ensues. In one of these three men were killed and many wounded a few days before we arrived, and the defeated sects were planning reprisals when we were leaving. This is Christianity at high pressure, and is characteristic of the whole place.

We saw Mount Zion, the Mount of Olives, the Damascus Gate, Calvary, the Garden of Gethsemane, the Pool of Siloam, the Pool of Bethesda, and the other celebrated places mentioned in the Bible. These were fairly authentic, as they were not "spots," but wide places of considerable dimensions, and not gathered under one roof.

THE WAILING PLACE, JERUSALEM. THE LESS SAID ABOUT THIS, THE BETTERTHE WAILING PLACE, JERUSALEM. THE LESS SAID ABOUT THIS, THE BETTER

The condition of the "Wall of Wailing"—which, by the way, is an open, paved court—is particularly offensive in a sanitary sense and no self-respecting person should enter it. Some writers have spoken plainly about these things. Here is a quotation from an eminent writer on the East, Dr. D. E. Lorenz, who knows his subject thoroughly, and to whom I am indebted for other data herewith:

"The moral degeneracy of the people as a whole is incredible. Profanity and obscenity are said to be mingled in the speech of the common people to an extent unknown among almost any other people on earth. Filthy homes and utter uncleanliness of person are the general rule. Sanitation is almost wholly disregarded, and it is a wonder that a plague does not sweep away all the inhabitants.… Dishonesty is reduced to a fine art.… The crowded streets with their Babel of confusion—the shouts of the donkey boys, the loud cries of the camel drivers, and the calls of those who would sell their wares to every passer-by, together with the hurly-burly of people in strange garb and speaking in strange tongues—all this tends to destroy … the religious glamour."

The "puller-in" and the "barker" of Baxter Street and the Bowery are mere sucking doves compared with the vendors of Jerusalem: they will get in front of you and pull you into their shops, and the only way you can prevent an assault is to jump to the other side of the street or dive into an alley. If you do not buy from them they will guy you and tell you to your face that they wish Americans would stay at home unless they will spend their money like the gentlemen they pretend to be. If at the end you buy nothing, they will shout derisively, "Skidoo! twenty-three! no good!" and other slang of a more or less complimentary nature. The English rule them with a rod of iron; they thrash them with a cane or whip which they carry for the purpose, and consequently the natives do not bother Johnnie Bull but allow him to pass in silence. The Emperor William was here a short time since, and they opened a new gate to let him in and removed the small boulders from the road so that his Imperial Majesty might not be jolted in driving about the country. William wants to be friendly and get a big slice of the "melon" at the cutting. Lady Burdett-Coutts, noticing the dangerous character of the water, offered to equip a fine, free system for the city, taking the supply from the head waters of the Jordan, but the sultan refused the offer unless he did the building. This proposal Lady Coutts declined, well knowing that if she accepted it there would be no works, but that the "Brother of the Sun" would keep the money.

The "Corks" were invited to a reception in Jerusalem given by a native lady in her own home, surrounded by every luxury and refinement as these are known in Asia Minor. She received us very graciously, with a distinguished, high-bred air, knowing just what to say and do at the psychological moment. She treated Mrs. Galley-West with the same impartiality that she showed toward some of the aristocratic members of the Rittenhouse Square set of Philadelphia who honored us with their presence. She was highly educated and an accomplished linguist, so practically all the varieties of Volapuk were alike familiar to her, and she could make Jean, Ivan, Hans, Franz or Johnny equally at home in her presence; as, if she could not quite "hit it off" with him in one language, she could quickly shift to another and talk to him in the kind in which he could best express himself.

Music was rendered and refreshments served by natives in oriental style and costume. Her husband was an American, an enthusiastic collector of ceramics and Levantinebric-à-brac, and the owner of a celebrated collection of scarabs—not bought at the Luxor factory, but separated from the mummies with the golden lever one must use to acquire these treasures; because it is the same, whether a collector has them dug from the graves for gold or whether he buys them after some one else has dug them. We know the practice here in another form (only ours is on a silver basis), when we catch our speckled beauties in the mountain streams with a silver hook and hang them high on a pole at supper time for local fame and universal admiration. Anyhow, the "real thing" in scarabs is not to be sneezed at when it is a fact that they have lain beside a Pharaoh in his grave long before Noah thought of laying the keel of hisMauretania. And don't forget that our first captain must have had a live pair of them on his historic houseboat, in order that they should be cavorting on the banks of the Nile to-day. But this indulgence in "piffle" has led us away from the main entrance, and we must come back to the floor of thesalonin which our reception was being conducted.

Large operations in excavation are now in progress in the East, and sometimes they "strike it rich," as the boys used to say in Nevada. One of these companies uncovered a terra-cotta lamp factory, in which were found literally thousands of small, crude lamps, each with astrupeto hold the wick through which the oil passed. These were of two sizes, the small ones being called "wise virgins," and the larger ones "foolish virgins." There were at least a thousand of them on hand at the beginning of the reception, and each guest was given one by our hostess. When it came to my turn, my heart was in my mouth! She asked which I would have, so I said,

"Oh, madam, give me a 'foolish virgin,' by all means!"

Her smiling face turned at once to stone. She handed me a lamp with a freezing look, in this way trying to stem the tide of giggles that this request provoked. It was no use; the character of the sacred function was forever lost through my thoughtless way of asking for the lamp.

Slowly and alone, I "hiked" back to the hotel, feeling that as a receptionee I had "put my foot in it," and must in future be regarded as a social back number.

JERICHO

The Jordan and the Dead Sea

After visiting all the places in Jerusalem that were of interest to us, we set out in carriages for a long and tiresome drive to Jericho and its environs. We passed Gethsemane and went over the Mount of Olives to Bethany. The Mount of Olives is four thousand feet above sea level, and consequently has a perfect climate even in hot weather. From it we saw the plain of the Jordan and the mountains of Moab in the distance—truly a magnificent panorama. After awhile we reached the "Good Samaritan" Inn and had some rest and refreshments there. An old Bedouin, tall, spare, and with a fine, military bearing, had a lot of old flint-lock guns for sale at the inn, but his historical knowledge and dates were decidedly mixed. He didn't care anything about facts or the truth if he could only sell a gun to a credulous customer. To give verisimilitude to his statements, he said he had fought at Waterloo on the English side and had killed Napoleon with one of these guns—he did not know which, but the buyer could have his choice. As this was the grandest and most daring lie I had ever heard, I gave him an American quarter, for which he was very grateful, as he needed the money.

THE DEAD SEA WITH THE LONE FISHERMAN IN FRONT. HE HAS JUST HEARD THAT THE FISH ARE NOT BITING AND IS SOMEWHAT DEPRESSED IN CONSEQUENCETHE DEAD SEA WITH THE LONE FISHERMAN IN FRONT. HE HAS JUST HEARD THAT THE FISH ARE NOT BITING AND IS SOMEWHAT DEPRESSED IN CONSEQUENCE

We went down through wild mountain gorges to the plain below. In former times the Bedouins who infest these mountains robbed the visitors and were a menace to travel, so it became the custom to "settle" with the chiefs for "protection" (from themselves) before starting. The management paid up for us and we were duly protected. In none of Gilbert and Sullivan's comic operas can any incident be found that is more delicious in its comicality and topsy-turvyism than was our experience with these bandit chiefs. They were mounted on small, nimble horses which had all the sure-footedness and agility of the chamois, and sprang from rock to rock with surprising certainty. The rider chief was armed to the teeth: he had a long rifle, that had not been fired since the last siege of Jerusalem slung across his back, round his body were courses of daggers, pistols and dirks—awfully bloodthirsty-looking things, don't you know; then he wore a magnificent, three-story turban, topped off with a big bunch of dyed green alfalfa; thetout ensemblewas completed by a dark red, flowing robe which swept behind him in the wind like the wings of an angel of death. This great man would bow to us ceremoniously, place his hand on his heart, put spurs to his horse and dash to the top of the nearest hill; then, shading his eyes, he would scan the horizon with careful scrutiny. Now with leaps and bounds he would descend again, and planting himself before us in the road, would announce that there were no robbers in sight, or that his appearance had frightened them off, and then shout at the top of his voice,

"BAKSHISH! BAKSHISH!!"

although he had been already paid. There were four of them guarding us, and at the end they lined up across the road with the idea that we would have to settle, but we brushed through them, pushing some of them on their backs, so their bluff was "called."

Rooms were scarce at the Jordan hotels, and the drivers of the light carriages were anxious to get there ahead of one another in order to secure the first choice for their fares; so a general edging up took place which resulted finally in a steeplechase across the fields, in which several were thrown out. Our carriage led for the last mile, but was passed by two others at the finish, thus giving us third place and single rooms as our reward.

My apartment was a whitewashed cell, without ventilation, but it was "mine own" and I was happy. The mirror was hung so high that I had to make a pyramid of three boxes on which to stand while shaving. They were quite rickety, and I was between the Scylla of cutting my throat with the razor and the Charybdis of breaking my bones by a fall on the floor. Neither happened, however.

RIVER JORDAN, WHERE WE CROSSED ON A FERRY-BOAT; THE ONLY REASON FOR DOING IT WAS TO TRY A VOYAGE WITHOUT STEWARDS' FEESRIVER JORDAN, WHERE WE CROSSED ON A FERRY-BOAT; THE ONLY REASON FOR DOING IT WAS TO TRY A VOYAGE WITHOUT STEWARDS' FEES

We went in to dinner. The hotel put up a fine showing of red napkins, plated cruet stands (with nothing in the bottles), bundles of toothpicks, last week's bread, bright green pickles (that had been dropped into some kind of pungent, commercial acid which would have made excellent rat poison); paper napkins with Corot landscapes printed on them; and plenty of gingersnaps and lady fingers, pretty thoroughly flyblown; the whole supplemented with sheaves of wild flowers cut in the fields with a scythe. It all looked grand and imposing for the money, but somehow lacked the substantial body (as well as fragrance) of beefsteak and onions. Thepièce de resistancehowever, really consisted of stewed kid and roast goat. I could not stomach either, so I went out and bought three fresh eggs from a native who kept hens, had them boiled four minutes and was the envy of the entire crowd ever after.

There was a large courtyard, and a big, dark, Byronic-looking dragoman came round and proposed a barbaric dance to our people. Ali Cocash was his name, and he described this dance as an imitation of a fierce and bloody orgy, such as the Bedouins indulge in after a great victory. They were to shout, grunt and brandish their guns, dirks, pistols and swords, and to behave generally in a very disreputable manner; in fact, Ali gravely intimated that it would be no place for timid ladies. This simply whetted our appetites and we promptly closed with him for the dance for a certain amount of "teep." The hat was passed and the tips put in. Then a row of about twenty-five as hangdog-looking Bedouins as were ever strung up in the Valley of Jehoshaphat began a kind of mewling cry, such as a rat would make in a trap. This did not satisfy us and we went for Cocash; we wanted "blood!" or at least an imitation of crime and deviltry. Ali consulted with the Bedouins and came back with a smiling solution of our difficulty. He said,

"My men have had a hard day's work and are tired and not able to do themselves justice, but if you give them more 'teep,' they will give you a good show and you will see something, sure."

Again the hat was passed, and the sons of the desert, after some rest, began anew. This time they brought torches with them, and they did make an abominable lot of noise and flung their armory about in a really reckless fashion. One of them dropped a burning torch on his neighbor and set fire to his clothes; this led to a fight which soon became general, and they began to bang one another right and left with anything that came to hand. Blood was flowing freely and the dragoman was in despair. He rushed into a stable and came out with a wooden pitchfork with which he drove them back, and restored order once more.

Two accomplished young ladies from theCorkthen gave us a skirt dance, which happily closed a very exciting day. I went to bed in my cell. It was a fine, moonlight night, and a three-cornered contest soon started between donkeys braying, jackals howling and dogs barking; but we were very tired, and they made no more impression on us than would Raff'sCavatinaplayed on the violin with a mute.

We were up early next morning and off for the Jordan and the Dead Sea. We stopped to look at and drink of Elisha's Fountain, a fine, copious spring forming a large stream. Near it I talked with several German officers who were making excavations for some German savants. They had got down to where the old buildings had been, and were pleased with their prospects. They were nice fellows, and very hospitable—strangers in a strange land usually are.

Next we came to Gilgal, and then to the Jordan. I crossed it in a canoe for sixpence—not that I had any business on the other side, but just to say that I did it, and to make some kind of a voyage for once without tips to the stewards on the passage. The river is about one hundred and thirty-seven miles long and falls three thousand feet on its way to the Dead Sea. They do a large bottling business at places on the banks, where the natives bottle the water and sell it to visitors for baptismal purposes all over the world.

Lower down is the Dead Sea; it is forty-seven miles long, nine miles wide, and thirteen hundred feet deep. Its surface is thirteen hundred feet below sea level; this and the shelter of the hills makes the country very hot in this valley. The Dead Sea water contains five times as much salt as the ocean. Six and a half million tons of water flow into it from the Jordan daily, which amount is evaporated, as the sea has no outlet. No living thing can exist in it, and the bathers who try to swim rise to the surface like corks.

We returned to Jerusalem the way we had come, meeting a train of eighty camels on the way, which some one called the "oriental express." After staying a couple of days at Jerusalem, we returned to theCork, which was waiting for us at Joppa. The natives had not "moved" Simon the tanner's house again and we saw it once more.

We sailed for Alexandria and reached it next day. Alexandria is now a big, modern town and has a great history behind it, too long for any repetition here. Not long ago, before "Charley" Beresford, the popular Irish admiral, had gained his title, he commanded theCondorat the siege of this city, and before the Turks knew it he had stolen under their forts and they could not point their "graft"-made guns down on him. Through this advantage he "batted out" a famous victory and the Turks surrendered in short order. After he had completed thecoup, his admiral signaled the now famous words, "Well done,Condor!" which rival the Duke's, "Up, Guards, and at them!" of Waterloo memory. He is to-day almost as well known and as great a favorite in America as he is in London.

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