ide along. One peculiarity of the
caique is that there are no rowlocks for the oars, which are held by a
loop of leather fastened on the boat.

All the senses are soothed and steeped in Elysium during this rapid
transit. The eye lazily runs over the squat-looking red houses with
flat roofs which line the shore, to rest on the dark cypress trees
which fill the intervening spaces, with the gilded balconies of
some pleasure-palace of sultan or high Turk catching the sight
occasionally. Caiques similar to your own are darting about in all
directions, following, passing or meeting you, until at length you
reach your destination, indicated by the crowd of caiques tied up
there, like cabs on a grand-opera night waiting for their customers.
Those of high Turkish functionaries or foreign ambassadors are very
different from yours--as different as a coach-and-four from a common
cab. Many of these have twelve rowers, all in fancy uniforms--red
fezzes and jackets embroidered with gold--while the larger caiques are
profusely and expensively ornamented.

Stepping ashore, you see a long line of carriages drawn up in several
rows, and of every conceivable variety--from the Turkish araba to the
most coquettish-looking Parisian coupe--gilded and adorned in a style
to make a French lorette stare with amazement at a lavishness of
expenditure exceeding her own.

The fair ones to whom these carriages belong may be seen in the
distance squatting down on rugs spread out beneath the trees,
and sipping coffee or sherbert while listening to musicians or
story-tellers. You stroll toward them as near as their attendant
guardians--grim-looking black eunuchs armed to the teeth, and quite
ready to use those arms with very little provocation on the persons
of any "dogs of infidels" who may interfere or seem to interfere with
their fair charges--will permit. You see bundles of the gayest colored
silks worn by women whose veils are thin as gossamer, and generally
permit a very fair view of their charms, not only of face, but of
bust as well. The bold black eyes of the caged birds flash out
unshrinkingly on the strangers, who inspire curiosity, and not always
aversion, if the language of those eyes be interpreted according to
the Western code. In fact, the women seem to take a malicious pleasure
in annoying their guards by encouraging such advances as can be made
by the mute language of looks and signs.

Every Friday in the year the same pantomime is