Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1890-05-03
NECTAR or TIE MQQRS.
guch II the Coffee Of the Orient Served In
the Cafes Of the City of Tangiers.

Such 10 the Coffee of the Orient served In
h Cafes Of the City OF Tangiers.
II was a midwinter night in the old
city of Tangiers, the seaport of Moroc.
co. Dinner was over and we were
consulting our cigars on the antique
balcony clinging to the side of our lofty
hotel. and admiring the spacious bay
and weird, silent city below US. As
we a there wondering what we shourl
do with ourselves, aSpanish gentleman
of our acquaintance came out TO US and
said. briskly:
well. gentlemen, how would you
like to make a call at the great Moorish
cafe of Murad ell Hassan' this EVENING"
] can assure You that it is well worth
a visit"
Delighted to CO." we all cried at
once. and forthwith started.
After winding through dirty, mar
row, and dangerous streets for some
fifteen minutes we reached a huge pile
of masonry, one story In height, from
whose low, open doorway a bright light
was streaming out into the darkness.
We entered, and az once found our
selves in a large, square room withsa
low ceiling. On one side was a raised
platform, with chairs scattered around
on it. BY far the larger portion of the
room, though, was covered with mats
and rugs, on which perhaps fifty ma.
tives were stretched Out smoking some
narcotic that produced semi-intoxica'
ton.
The rear of the room had a huge open
chimney built into the wall, with q,
broad fireplace extending out from it.
much resembling a blacksmith's forge.
On this a oharcoal-fire was shoulder
ing.
The proprietor, as he saw us, came
hastily forward and with many salaams
escorted US to seats upon this platform.
Then opening a dingy cupboard ne
took out a table Of inlaid mother-of-
pearl, exquisitely beautiful, which he
set before US. He then took a small
iron mortar and putting into It two
pods, carefully pulverized them. The
dust he deposited in a delicate little
cup of shell-like china. poured boiling
water upon it until it dissolved and be.
came a sort Of liquid paste. and then
approaching us, offered it to me with
all the p~oliteness of the oriental.
| took il, of course, but with many
inward maledictions. for 1t was by no
mans an acceptable Offering. Its
color was a dingy, dirty brown, An I'M
pleasant yellow u floated around
on the top of 1t, and altogether it was
as repulsiye in appearance as one could
we'll imagine. But take it / must;
there was no escape. To refuse would
have been TO give a mortal ~ofense, and
so with a sigh | resigned myself to the
inevitable.
With a small spoon / carefully brush
ed away the frothy scum, lifted a lit
tie of the detestable mixture to my
lips. groaned, closed my eyes, opened
my mouth, and in desperation swallow.
ed it.
But behold the miracle! As that
questionable looking compound gently
stole down my alimentary canal, to my
amazement did | find myself swallow.
ing a nectar worthy Of Olympus, and
the dusky Moor for q moment seemed
to be a Ganymede himself. A deli
cious, aromatic, stimulating something,
of whose existence | had never even
dreamed, introduced itself TO me then
and there-and / opened my eyes and
formed the acquaintance OF a friend
upon whom | never afterward turned
nv back.
1t was a new revelation, this coffee
of the orient, and never again did
hesitate. whether in Arab camp or
Moslem city, to receive it with thank
~fulness, be II ever so dingy. learned
then what nutrition and s~ustenance
could be put into it, and ceased to won
der how the nomad could bve for week,
on a hardful of dates arda few dozer
coffee pods.
The scene before Us as we sat there
was weird beyond all imagination and
made a picture worthy of the brush o.
Gerome himself. Its frame, the low
walls of the cafe, draped here and there
with scarlet hangings; its background,
the broad chimney-piece, from which
glowing fire sent its rays across the
room; its center, the bright, rug-cov'
cred floor, with its motley collection Of
dark-skinned Moors. all robed In white
and its foreground, the richly garbet
proprietor, bowling before us and pre-
senting on a silver tray his quaint little
cups Of transparent china. Never die
that great artist paint a more truly orr
entail picture. Indeed, it wa hard :,
believe that we were not looking upol
his canvas, so similar to his creation
was the reality before US.
They were a strange sight-thos'
swarthy Moors-swathed to the yer,
araa - .Aa = xvhtta ntnfha and cfratRh
ed at full length upon the rich rugs
each gravely and silently putting ava,
at q long amber-tipped pipe, and eacl
lost under the influence OF the subtl'
narcotic he was smoking. They wer'
there with us in the body. but througl
She power of the mysterious drug hid
Zen in their quaint pipes their spirit'
were far away, reveling in the Mussel
mans paradise with the fair hours o
his faith. Surrounded on all sides b.
dirt and degradation, their lives but a
amending succession of pitiable depr'
vations, their horizons limited by tn
fanatical barbarism under which the
live, only in such hours as this do the
escape from their environments AM
rise above their daily miseries. 1t wa
a sad enough spectacle to see the de
scendants Of a people nee famous TO
a high culture and ripe civilizatio
forced to find their solace in joys as ur
substantial as the curling smoke OF
of which they were formed. and who
would but leave the unhappy dreamer
the more ~enervated and the more d.
pressed.
Thus felt we all, and, as after GU
evenings visit we once more sought GU
hotel, did we find ourselves uncoI
sciously meditating over their falle
greatness and lost estate. Such wa
this old Moorish cafe. and such the ei
feet 1t had upon its visitors that mid
winter night Chicago Times.
How soon chickens forget the worn
they were fighting over when the haw