e more
ignorant, a Turk is, the better he seems to be. As he gets money and
power, and becomes "contaminated" by western civilization, he
deteriorates. A resident of twenty years' experience said: "In the lowest
classes I have sometimes found truth, honesty, and gratitude; in the
middle classes, seldom; in the highest, never." The corruptibility of the
Turkish official is almost proverbial; but such is to be expected in the
land where "the public treasury" is regarded as a "sea," and "who does not
drink of it, as a pig." Peculation and malversation are fully expected in
the public official. They are necessary evils--_adet_ (custom) has made
them so. Offices are sold to the highest bidder. The Turkish official is
one of the politest and most agreeable of men. He is profuse in his
compliments, but he has no conscience as to bribes, and little regard for
virtue as its own reward. We are glad to be able to record a brilliant,
though perhaps theoretical, exception to this general rule. At
Koch-Hissar, on our way from Sivas to Kara Hissar, a delay was caused by a
rather serious break in one of our bicycles. In the interval we were the
invited guests of a district kadi, a venerable-looking and genial old
gentleman whose acquaintance we had made in an official visit on the
previous day, as he was then the acting _caimacam_ (mayor). His house was
situated in a neighboring valley in the shadow of a towering bluff. We
were ushered into the _selamluek_, or guest apartment, in company with an
Armenian friend who had been educated as a doctor in America, and who had
consented to act as interpreter for the occasion.

The kadi entered with a smile on his countenance, and made the usual
picturesque form of salutation by describing the figure 3 with his right
hand from the floor to his forehead. Perhaps it was because he wanted to
be polite that he said he had enjoyed our company on the previous day, and
had determined, if possible, to have a more extended conversation. With
the usual coffee and cigarettes, the kadi became informal and chatty. He
was evidently a firm believer in predestination, as he remarked that God
had foreordained our trip to that country, even the food we were to eat,
and the invention of the extraordinary "cart" on which we were to ride.
The idea of such a journey, in such a peculiar way, was not to be
accredited to the ingenuity of man. There was a purpose in it all. When we
ventured to thank him for his hospitalit