see people of so many kinds we have never seen before
that it is difficult not to stand still and gape. There are men in
cloaks and wrappings, weather-beaten and worn, and men in European
clothes and brown or yellow boots, there are thick-lipped negroes with
rolling yellow eyeballs, and warlike Turkish soldiers, who clank down
the street thrusting everyone aside. The Jews themselves are the least
attractive of all, with very greasy head-gear, from each side of which
hangs down a corkscrew curl, as often red as black; they wear usually a
kind of soiled dressing-gown garment and seem afraid of being struck. Of
the many types of men the Arabs are the manliest, and come nearest to
our idea of the old patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. They wear a
kind of cloth on their heads falling down behind, you could easily make
something like it with a towel any day. This is bound round the forehead
by a fillet sometimes made of camel's hair, which holds it in its place
tightly, like a cap. They have across their shoulders a striped narrow
blanket of brilliant orange or scarlet, and they walk with a free stride
and their heads held up; they are men of the desert, accustomed to
freedom and to taking care of themselves against all comers.
[Illustration: JEWS' WAILING PLACE, JERUSALEM.]
At one corner a man who has been angrily expostulating with another
bangs him with a bag he carries, the bag bursts and the air is filled
with a cloud of flour which envelops the two until they cannot be seen.
Furious voices come out of the cloud, and as everyone hastens to the
sight we take the chance to go the other way.
[Illustration: AN ARAB IN JERUSALEM.]
In every Eastern city there is a "bazaar" corresponding with what in
England we should call the market-place. The guide leads us to the
"bazaar," and at the first glance we can hardly believe he is right, for
we plunge into a long narrow passage arched overhead so that it is
simply neither more nor less than a tunnel. There are three of these,
and the light only comes in from the ends or from some holes far
overhead. In this dimness we see caverns or recesses on each side, quite
open, with no glass, and these are the shops. There is a curious glare
from some of them where the owners have a fire for cooking food or for
heating their forges. Butchers and shoemakers abound, and the smell of
raw leather is revolting. In the next passage many things are sold, and
there are quite a number of c
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