The Portland daily press., 1879-12-17
The Dress of the Moor.

[From "Morocco" by Edmond de Amicis.]
am ashamed when pass handsome Moor
in gala dress I compare my ugly hat with his
large muslin turban, my short jacket with his
ample white or rose-colored caftan-the mean
ness, in short, of my black and gray garments
with the whiteness, the amplitude, the grace
full, dignifed simplicity of his-and it seems
that look like black beetle beside butter
fly. stand sometimes at my window-in con-
temptation before a portion of pair of GRIM
son drawers and gold-colored slippers, appear
ing from behind column in the square below,
and find SO much pleasure in it that L cannot
cease from gazing. More than anything else
I admire and envy the caic, that long piece of
snow-white wool or silk with transparent stripes
which is twisted round the turban, falls down
between the shoulders, is passed around the
waist, and thrown up over one shoulder, whence
it descends to the feet softly yelling the rich
colors of the dress beneath, and at every breath
of wind swelling, quivering, floating, seeming
to glow in the suns rays, and giving to the
whole person vaporous and visionary aspect
No one who has not seen it can imagine to
what a point the Arab carries the art of lying
down. In corners where we should be en-
barrassed to place bag of rags or a bundle Of
straw, he disposes of himself as upon bed of
down. He adapts himself upon the wall like
bas-relief and fattens out upon the ground
until he looks like a sheet spread out to dry.
He will assume the form Of ball, a cube, or
monster without arms, legs or head; so that the
streets and squares look like battle-felds strewn
with corpses and mutilated trunks of men
The greater part having nothing on but SIM
pie white mantle-but what variety there is
among them! Some wear it open, some closed,
some drawn on one side, some folded over the
shoulder, some tightly wrapped, some loosely
floating, but always with an air; varied by
picturesque folds, falling in easy but severe
lines, as if they were posing for an artist.
Every one of them might pass for Roman
Senator. This very morning our artist dis
covered marvellous Marcus Brutus in the
midst of a group of Bedouins But if one is
not accustomed to wear it, the face is not suffi-
cient to enoble the folds of the mantle. Some
of us brought them for the Journey and tried
them on, and we looked like so many conval-
escents wrapped in bathing-sheets. have not
yet seen among the Arabs hunchback, or
lame man, or rickety man, but many with
out nose and without an eye, one or both,
and the greater part of these with the empty
orbit-a sight which made me shiver when
thought that possibly the globe had been torn
out in virtue of the lex talionis, which is in
vigor in the empire But there is no ridiculous
ugliness among these strange and terrible fig
ures. The flowing ample vesture conceals all
small defects, as the common gravity and the
dark bronZed skin conceal the difference of
age. In consequence of which one encounters
at every step men of an indefnable age. of
whom one cannot guess whether they are old
or young; and if you judge them old, light
ening smile reveals their youth; and if you
think them young, the hood falls back and be-
trays the gray locks OF age.