dignity--an air of mystery. It is with
difficulty that the sands of the desert are kept from enveloping it, but
the climatic effect is wonderful; it seems destined for time and
eternity.

Friday is the day for religious service with the howling dervishes. One
never cares for a repetition. Those who take active part in the ceremony
are men whose regular features are set off by a tall, round,
sugar-loafed hat, surrounded at its base with a turban wound very tight,
clothed in long, flowing gowns, very full, open in front. A second gown
underneath of mauve silk shows a blue jacket and orange-colored
trousers. One carries a flute, and now and then a soft, ethereal note is
heard. Around this musician are others with their instruments. In a
semi-circle, with arms falling at their sides, stand at least thirty
dervishes, their long gowns of different colors fastened tight around
their waists with a red silk sash, red, white and green turbans, and
linen or woolen caps. Their hair is of extraordinary length, dyed with
henna, and falling to their knees. At a signal from their leader, all
uncover their heads at the same moment, and, as they bend balancing
themselves slowly at first, with each jerk pronouncing the word "Allah!"
This swinging motion becomes by degrees rapid; voices burst out; one
hears the piercing note of the flute, and the ring of the cymbals. The
sepulchral roll of the Dara-bonkas make the flesh creep, and finally
ends in a delirious exaltation.--They assume frightful contortions;
their bodies bend; the hair whips the air and the cry of "Allah! Allah!"
penetrates bone and marrow. After a while their ways become more
regular, voices clearer, and they seem again to possess their faculties.

The great artery of trade cuts bazaar quarters into the old Frank
quarters where east and west mixes. Living side by side, the occupants
of these shops speak, when opening the shutters in the morning, and when
closing them in the evening, and frequently offer each other tea and
cigarettes through the day, and that terminates all connection. A Babel
street, dealers in French novelties; an American dentist; a barber, a
Jewish money changer side by side, while on foot in the roadway divers
people from diverse nations throng--few groups but a constant movement.
Among them are loaded camels, people on horses, donkeys, mules,
victorias drawn by Arab steeds always on the trot. The guards driving to
one side the crowd by blows in the fac