Smyrna times., 1888-06-20
A HOME In ALGIERS.
A GLIMPSE OF QUIET COUNTRY
LIFE AMONG THE MOORS.


English Travellers Entertained at "a Pretty
Vilia-A Group of KabyIe Peasants
Flirting with Handsome KabyIe Girl
Tea and Cake.
The road to Tikserian winds over the
smiling green hills of the Sahel, among
fields and vineyards and white AraE
houses, and descends at last through q
deep rocky ravine to an old Moorish adue-
duct, thrown boldly with gray arches
across the bottom of the valley We pass
under the aqueduct with its moderinn
round arches, on one of whose grim stones
some Spanish Christian slave carved LONG
ago the dim and half obliterated inscrip,
tion, "AnO 1885," we turn aside for a mo.
ment to the gray Moorish village that
clings to the hillside, with it's tumble
down houses and its open air cafe, where
Arabs lOll at ease in picturesque attitudes,
prOpped on bare elbows, and discuss our
personal appearance with evident frank.
ness; we drink from the cool water of the
ancient marble fountain, that invariable
accompaniment of all North African ham
let's; and then we continue our way on
foot by rocky path bOrdered with as.
phodel and the tiny blue Sicilian iris, to
the Arab house itself. in whose hospitable
courtyard we mean to drink the national
beverage under cool pOrtico. The villa
belongs, in fact, to a rich old native gen
tleman in Algiers, who comes out here
only for his summer villeggiatura, and
we have obtained his leave today to de.
scend upon it in force, to the evident sur
prise, delight and amusement of its ami.
able little horde of Kabyle caretakers.
Nothing we have seen in Alriers has
been quite so genuinely native as this
and nothing at first sight has so unre.
servedly charmed us We enter the villa
through an outer farm yard, which leads
by an arched doorway to the actual arcadeG
court yard of the house. Opening this
door, delicious native picture bursts at
once upon our sight. Through the half
circle of the arch we see in front of us 6
tiled floor, overshadOwed by ancient
gnarled orange trees; a central marble
fountain, bubbling up and overfowina
with impid water into a cool basin: an
Arab home of antique, fiat rooted archi.
lecture, set on one side, with its oper
colOnnade of daintily sculptured pillars
occupying the other, and in the midst OF
all, lighting it up with their graceful
presence and free ease of movement. q
pretty group of five assorted Kabyle peas
ants Two were old women, still 1.-THE
and active, with uncovered faces and
tattOoed foreheads. One was a mother in
the prime of life, with her 2-year-old baby
III her brown arms. and one was a young
girl of extraordinary beauty, well built
and high stepping, round of arm and rich
OF bosom as 4 Greek statue 1t was the
Orient at home; we paused and looked and
admired it silently. The men were absent;
cannot honestly say we missed them
That kabyle baby, in particular, was a
perfect little model. He toddled about
the court yard in his naked feet, he had
shulfled off his wee slippers in far cor
ner, with tiny burnOus thrown around
his fat small body and miniature cowl
over his round little head as quaint and
comic human figure as ever have seen
in the course of many wanderings. We
asked leave by pantomime to light our
etna and make our tea under the shade of
the colonnade, and our Kabyle hostess,
catching readily at our meaning, accorded
her permission with friendly smile. The
handsome girl, going out into the front
yard, lighted fire of sticks hastily with
her beautiful hands, and set to work in a
tiny little cabin Of kitchen to prepare us
sort of griddle cake in a round pan,
while the baby stood by with his big,
grave eyes, and seemed no more afraid of
the Christian intruders than of his own
friends in the court yard close by Mean
while the old women also busted them
selves to make us a bowl of the national
dish, CONSCIOUS, sort of porridge pounded
from the semolina of hard wheat.
The kabyle women do not veil their
faces, like the Arabs, nor are they afraid
of strangers; on the contrary, our beauti-
full friend who was making the griddle
cake seemed distinctly to understand the
civilized European art of flirting. She
blew the fire from time TO time with her
own pretty lips, and then turned round to
us those languid large eyes of hers as if
to demand our instant admiration; she
allowed the wind to rustic open the haik
that covered her full neck, and then gath
cred it together cOquettishly with twist
of her fingers, yet not so tight as quite tC
prevent it from revealing to us every now
and again the statuesque perfection of hel
lovely shoulder. She was light as q
Christian and almost blue eyed "Gen
seric and his Vandals, said the ethnolo
gist of our party. don't know myself;
only know for certain she was vel
favored and bOnny lass of whatever ex
traction, Aryan or Semitic.
By and by tile kettle boiled, and we sal
! down On-the edge of the old tiled floor
with the water gurgling at us in tn,
marble basin, and drank our four cups o-
! o'clock tea under archways that then
for the first time, no doubt, made ac
| quaintance with the SAVIOR of our British
| beverage. Our Kabyle baby friend tod
| died up and eyed our cake askance witt
| curious and eager eyes; we gave him
! piece and he ran back to the hous,
with it, but, whether on religious or di
! gestive grounds | know not, a loud cry
] exceedingly western in note, shortly an
nOunced that his cruel mother had takel
it away from him. We appeased him
with a small bit of bread and ham, whicl
no rule of the Prophet seemed to forbid
After tea We held high palaver at tn
door; the Kabyle women displayed thei
/ jewelry, and took us over thei- house, from
the porch with it's look out, where tn
Moorish women made sure they nigh
venture forth unveiled into the court, t.
the fiat roof with its splendid view owe
hill and ravine and aged cluster of waving
palm trees
The pretty Kabyle girl followed us tim
idly up the stairs, but fled coquettish
when we turned and looked at her. int,
dark side chambers Even the staircas
had it's dadO of rich titles, and the bes
bedroom was a miniature museum 0
Oriental domestic architecture. We wen
down once more, and pressed five franc
into our hostess dusky hand. She tool
it with graceful outer show of reluctance
and signifed by pantomine her undyini
regret that we couldn't wait to taste thei
cous-cous. But we had seen it pounded
and we fed that ordeal Time excuses
us. The pretty girl peeped out at u
archly from a doorway as we left, and tn
2-year-old Kabyle in the cowl and hoo
stared after us long with inquiring eye
till Don Quixote and the cake basket fade
away forever from his horizon in the dis
tance.-Pall Mall Gazette.