Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1890-06-13
NECTAR OF THE MooRs.
Such Is the Coffee OF the Orient Served An
the Cafes OF the City OF Tangiers.


hotel, and admiring the spacious bay
and weird, silent city below us. As
we sat there wondering what we should
do with ourselves, a Spanish gentleman
of our acquaintance came out to us and
said, briskly:
well, gentlemen, how would you
like to make 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 st Gets for some
fifteen minutes we reached 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 at once found our
selves in a large, square room with
low ceiling. On one side was 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 huge open
chimney built into the wall, with Il
broad fireplace extending out from it.
much resembling blacksmith's forge.
On this charcoal-fire was shoulder
ing.
The proprietor, rs he saw us, came
hastily forward and with many salaams
escorted us to seats upon this platform.
Then opening a dingy cupboard he
took out 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 polteness of the oriental.
/ took it, of course, but with many
inward maledictions, for it was by no
means an acceptable offering. It's
color was dingy, dirty brown, an un-
pleasant yellow scum floated around
on the top of it, and altogether it was
as repulsive in appearance as one could
we'll imagine. But take it / must;
there was no escape. To refuse would
have been to give mortal ofTense, and
so with a sigh l resigned myself to the
inevitable.
With small spoon carefully brush
ed away the frothy scum, lifted 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 l find myself swallow
ing nectar worthy of Olympus, and
the dusky Moor for moment seemed
to be a Ganymede himself. A deli
cious, aromatic, stimulating something,
of whose existence l had never even
dreamed, introduced itself to me then
and there-and l opened my eyes and
formed the acquaintance of friend
upon whom / never afterward turned
my back.
1t was n new revelation, this coffee
Of the orient, and never again did l
hesitate. whether in Arab camp or
Moslem city, to receive it with thank
fulness. be it ever so dingy. l learned
then what nutrition and sustenauce
could be put into it. and ceased to won
der how the nomad could live for weeks
on handful of dates and few dozen
coffee pods.
The scene before us rs we sat there
was weird beyond all Imagination and
made picture worthy of the brush of
Enrntnn hinaenlf &c hn
walls of the cafe, draped here and there
with scarlet hangings; its background,
the broad chimney-piece, from which q
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 CARRIED
proprietor, bowling before us and pre-
senting on silver tray his quaint little
cups of transparent china. Never did
that great artist paint more truly ORR
entail picture. Indeed, it was hard to
believe that we were not looking upon
his canvas. so similar to his creations
was the reality before us.
They were strange sight-those
swarthy Moors-swathed to the very
eyes in coarse white cloths and stretch.
ed at full length upon the rich rugs,
each gravely and silently putting away
at long amber-tipped pipe, and each
lost under the influence of the subtle
narcotic he was smoking. They were
there with us in the body, but through
the power of the mysterious drug hid
den in their quaint pipes their spirits
were far away. reveling in the Mussel-
mans paradise with the fair houris of
his faith. Surrounded on all sides by
dirt and degradation. their lives but an
unending succession of pitiable depri-
vations, their horizons limited by the
fanatical barbarism under which they
live, only in such hours rs this do they
escape from their environments and
rise above their daily miseries. 1t was
a sad enough spectacle to see the de-
scendants of a people once famous for
high culture and ripe civilization
forced to find their solace in joys as un.
substantial as the curling smoke Out
of which they were formed, and which
would but leave the unhappy dreamers
the more enervated and the more de-
pressed.
Thus felt we all, and, as after our
evenings visit we once more sought our