otel, on the other a boat unloading fish, and in the street itself,
with French automobiles and trolley-cars, men who still are beasts of
burden, who know no other way of carrying a bale or a box than upon
their shoulders. In Salonika even the trolley-car is not without its
contrast. One of our "Jim Crow" street-cars would puzzle a Turk. He
would not understand why we separate the white and the black man. But
his own street-car is also subdivided. In each there are four seats that
can be hidden by a curtain. They are for the women of his harem.

[Illustration: "On one side of the quay, a moving-picture palace, ... on
the other a boat unloading fish."]

From the water-front Salonika climbs steadily up-hill to the row of
hills that form her third and last line of defense. On the hill upon
which the city stands are the walls and citadel built in the fifteenth
century by the Turks, and in which, when the city was invaded, the
inhabitants sought refuge. In aspect it is mediaeval; the rest of the
city is modern and Turkish. The streets are very narrow; in many the
second stories overhang them and almost touch, and against the skyline
rise many minarets. But the Turks do not predominate. They have their
quarter, and so, too, have the French and the Jews. In numbers the Jews
exceed all the others. They form fifty-six per cent of a population
composed of Greeks, Turks, Armenians, Bulgarians, Egyptians, French, and
Italians. The Jews came to Salonika the year America was discovered. To
avoid the Inquisition they fled from Spain and Portugal and brought
their language with them; and after five hundred years it still obtains.
It has been called the Esperanto of the Salonikans. For the small
shopkeeper, the cabman, the waiter, it is the common tongue. In such an
environment it sounds most curious. When, in a Turkish restaurant, you
order a dinner in the same words you last used in Vera Cruz, and the
dinner arrives, it seems uncanny. But, in Salonika, the language most
generally spoken is French. Among so many different races they found, if
they hoped to talk business--and a Greek, an Armenian, and a Jew are not
averse to talking business--a common tongue was necessary. So, all those
who are educated, even most sketchily, speak French. The greater number
of newspapers are in French; and notices, advertisements, and official
announcements are printed in that language. It makes life in Salonika
difficult. When a man attacks you in Turk