not
Greeks. The Greek elbow was clothed in a handsome sleeve covered with
gold embroidery, for our friend was a dandy of dandies. His petticoats
and his shirt were of fine linen, snowy in its whiteness; his small
waist was encircled by a magnificent Syrian scarf; his cream-colored
leggings were spotless; and his conspicuous garters new and brilliantly
scarlet. He was an athletic young man of thirty, his good looks marred
only by his over-eager eyes and his restlessness. It was his back which
he presented to us, for his attention was given entirely to a party of
his own friends, men and women. He talked to them; he read aloud to them
from a small newspaper (they all had newspapers, and read them often);
he stood up and argued; he grew excited and harangued; then he sat down,
his inflated skirts puffing out over his chair, and went on with his
argument, if argument it was, until, worn out by the hours of his
eloquence, some of his companions fell asleep where they sat. His meals
were astonishingly small. As everything went on under our eyes, we saw
what they all ate, and it was unmistakable testimony to the Greek
frugality. Our companion had brought with him from Corfu, by way of
provisions for several days, a loaf of bread about as large as three
muffins in one, a vial containing capers, a grapeleaf folded into a
cornucopia and filled with olives, and a pint bottle of the light wine
of the country. The only addition which he made to this store was a
salted fish about four inches long, which he purchased daily from the
steward. There was always a discussion before he went in search of this
morsel, which represented, I suppose, the roast meat of his dinner, and
when he returned after a long absence, bearing it triumphantly on the
palm of his hand, it was passed from one to the next, turned over,
inspected, and measured by each member of the group, amid the most
animated, eager discussion. When comment was at last exhausted, the
superb orator seated himself (always with his chair against our knees),
and placed before him, on a newspaper spread over the bench, his
precious fishlette divided into small slices, with a few capers and
olives arranged in as many wee heaps as there were portions of fish, so
that all should come out even. Then, with the diminutive loaf of bread
by his side and the bottle of wine at his feet, he began his repast,
using the point of his pocketknife as a fork, eating slowly and
meditatively, and intent