must have
looked when they walked forth from their graves amid the storms and
thunders and earthquakes that burst upon Calvary that awful night of the
Crucifixion. A street in Constantinople is a picture which one ought to
see once--not oftener.

And then there was the goose-rancher--a fellow who drove a hundred geese
before him about the city, and tried to sell them. He had a pole ten
feet long, with a crook in the end of it, and occasionally a goose would
branch out from the flock and make a lively break around the corner, with
wings half lifted and neck stretched to its utmost. Did the
goose-merchant get excited? No. He took his pole and reached after
that goose with unspeakable sang froid--took a hitch round his neck, and
"yanked" him back to his place in the flock without an effort. He
steered his geese with that stick as easily as another man would steer a
yawl. A few hours afterward we saw him sitting on a stone at a corner,
in the midst of the turmoil, sound asleep in the sun, with his geese
squatting around him, or dodging out of the way of asses and men. We
came by again, within the hour, and he was taking account of stock, to
see whether any of his flock had strayed or been stolen. The way he did
it was unique. He put the end of his stick within six or eight inches of
a stone wall, and made the geese march in single file between it and the
wall. He counted them as they went by. There was no dodging that
arrangement.

If you want dwarfs--I mean just a few dwarfs for a curiosity--go to
Genoa. If you wish to buy them by the gross, for retail, go to Milan.
There are plenty of dwarfs all over Italy, but it did seem to me that in
Milan the crop was luxuriant. If you would see a fair average style of
assorted cripples, go to Naples, or travel through the Roman States.
But if you would see the very heart and home of cripples and human
monsters, both, go straight to Constantinople. A beggar in Naples who
can show a foot which has all run into one horrible toe, with one
shapeless nail on it, has a fortune--but such an exhibition as that would
not provoke any notice in Constantinople. The man would starve. Who
would pay any attention to attractions like his among the rare monsters
that throng the bridges of the Golden Horn and display their deformities
in the gutters of Stamboul? O, wretched impostor! How could he stand
against the three-legged woman, and the man with his eye in his cheek?
How would