The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1894-06-11
THE TURKISH WIDOW.

The tourists who pass up and down the
Bosporus in caiques or in the grimy,
smoky little steamers that touch on the
Asiatic coast may see at Kandilli, just at
the edge of the water, a charming white
kiosk half hidden among palms and clam
bering vines
Every morning at an early hour young
and pretty woman, a true type of the odal
isque, emerged from the house, and open
ing the garden gate went with graceful
steps to the pigeon house, fed the birds,
and them passing on to the terrace, she
looked out upon the cobalt blue waves of
the Bosporus, beyond which could be
seen the outlines of Arnaout Keni point
and the palace harems, surrounded by the
gardens of Bebeck. With languid step she
re-entered the kiosk. A little Turcoman
servant with look of cunning in her
eyes, assisted in her first household duties;
then the young woman seated herself be-
fore frame ON which was stretched one
of those embroideries, veritable fairy work,
that the Turkish ladies alone know how
to make.
From morning to night the lady en-
broidered. Once in a month caique touch
ed there, always bearing the same man,
who had the profile of bird of prey. He
examined the embroidery, turned it this
yay and that. and finally left a few gold
pieces and some pieces of the soft and del
icately colored Angora wool, of which the
garments of both mistress and maid were
fashioned. Two years before the young
woman had lost her husband, hey en-
ployed in one of the ministries of the en-
pire. Left thus alone. she now worked
to support herself. happy in the possession
of this house to live in. and knowing moth
ing of the outside world. An old Turkish
nurse had taught her to ply her needle.
and she had beautified her home with the
most exquisite embroideries. Little by
little she had sold them to defray her mod
est expenses Then she had made new
ones. The only beings that Ickbal Ha-
noun loved were her birds and large and
handsome -Boso-tawny of hide col.
ored, one would say, like the sands of the
desert. For all well organized hearts. love
is a necessity, and Ickbal turned the
strength of her soul to protecting those
weaker than she, and in place of seeking
to establish relations with the wealthy
harems of the neighborhood and f1attering
rich hanoums Oadies) in order to receive
presents from them she shut herself up
in her own house and devoted herself to
the memory of Ibrahim Bey, her late hus.
band, and to her affection for her pets.
One day, when she had finished blue
satin cloth on which marvellous roses faded
from deep purple to the palest pink she
folded it up in an old feredje and went to
the bazaar at STEAMBOAT Timidly she Of
fered her superb embroidery from shop to
shop ALI the merchants admired it in
silence but they let the seller see no sign
of that admiration and offered her an in
significant sum for it, thinking she was
driven to sell it by pressing need The Ar.
menian saw her from the door of his shop,
and accosting her waxed very angry and
swore he would never buy ANYTHING of hea
again, splitting upon the ground to give
solemnity to his oath.
Ickbal Hanourn went SADLY hack to her
home, Her great dog came bounding to
meet her. but he seemed to recognize her
mood, for he licked her hands and looked
at her inouiringly out OF. his kind brown
eyes. She took his great head in her hands.
pressed it passionately to her cheek and
then sank upon divan to mediate upon
her future course. The servant had disap-
peared, being in haste to reioin her friends
of the neighboring great harem. Ickbal
found herself alone and miserable for the
first time in her busy life.
She reviewed her past and recalled her
husband, so good, so loving, so eager to-
get back from STEAMBOAT to reioin his dear
hanoum. Pneumonia, contracted during
north wind from the Black sea. had car
ried him off in week, and since then she
had worked INCREASINGLY to maintain her.
self, her servant, her dog and her birds.
The Armenian was cheating her. as she
had long ago suspected. Her attempt to
rebel against his oppression had failed.
She was timid and a woman of the orient
in the fullest sense-that is to say brought
up to live within the house, not to go about
the streets Ickbal Hanoum had none of
the aspirations of the modern woman to-
ward an unhealthy liberty and slavery
worse than the old, for master is prefer
able to the public on which an independent
woman depends, and if she have not wit,
sharpness and audacity to strive inch by
inch against friends and enemies she will
finally end by being subjected to the in
suit of public pity.
Ickbal was instinctively frightened. The
specter of want began to loom before her.