The daily Alaskan., 1914-07-09
r8E ART OF D1-."5
It Is a Part of the IndOIent Life
 of the LeiSureIy Turk.
WHERE SITTING IS EXERCISE.


 gard What We Would Call Loafing
 a5 a Mark of ResPeotabiIity-A Trip In a Caique on the Golden Horn.
 One of the first words in the Turkish language that 1 learned to recognize was kyef or kaif Making kyef was a very common occupation, judging from the number of times that l heard the word used. The dictionary definition of kyef is "health," |" pleasure" Health and pleasure are not always synony- nous, but they seemed to be in this case, for people who said they had been making kyef always looked both happy and healthy.
 To the average American the idea represented by the word I,yef is about as foreign as the word itself. You could not possibly make lyef at a foot ball game or a horse race or automo- billing up to the limit of police regula- tlons. One thing soon becomes evident to the scientific investigator of kycf. Whatever it may be, kycf is made without haste. without excitement and, above all things. without noise.
 Leisure, idliug if you like, has been reduced to a fine art in the orient. There is no place iu the world where doing nothing is so respectable. Able bodied men sit uubIushiugly at midday in coffee house drinking uumbcrIess cups of strong. black coffee, smoking a nargiIc ani staring at a chcssboard for hours at u time. I0aiing we call it in America; in Italy, dolce far nieute; in Turkey. making kyef
 The oriental is slow and easy in his amusemeDtS. He fingers over his pleas ures, making them last as long as pos sible. None too fond of cyerriug him. self, most of his exercise is taken sit ting still The Turkish verb otur, which means "sit." is much used both in word and in action They sit over cup of coffee in ana out If door cafe, they sit under u tree smoking a ciG1- rctte. they sit for four hours making you visit. and they may sit the live long day out in a grassy field or on the banks of stream doing nothing at n.L
 The Turks are fond of outdoors And one is not surprised. The highest point of Constantinople is Tgaam5iia, g. ht. that stands few miles back from the Scutar landing ou the A~tada side. The view from this ail .s u.e whose beauty casts a spe.. that lasts as long as memory lasts. see Naples aud die runs the old saying but dg uot alc be- fore you have seen Cons,anttn"p.e from Tchamidja.
 There are many open fields in and about Constantiuoplc to which the peo- DIe resort on high days and holidays, tbe brilliant colors of the native dress standing out against the grconest green and the bluest blue of the natural bockground And everywhere the daz- zling sheen of water, the siIve.y. calm surface of the Marmoro stretching away in the distance and the blue winding Bosporus at our feet. There is a hush about a Turkish holiday gathering which is always like a Sun day. CaiQues glide notselessIy by, pco- pIe sit in groups or saunter about on the shore. like the figures in a picture, everybody making llyef in his own way
 One of the popular resorts for great numbers of people is the Sweet Wa ters of Europe, a small stream of fresh water flowing into the upper part of the Golden Horn The best and easiest way to reach this place, the stranger is told. is by rOwboat up the Golden Horn. This "bcst and easiest way is, however, a bit trying to the nerves. Galata bridge, from which the boats leave. is the busiest spot in Constant- noDIe. You are iostIcd from before and bphind. screamed at in all the Ian guages you ever heard of and frightcn- pd nearly to death before you get down the rickety little stairway leading to the landing. Nothing can really hap pen to you, but you do not know that until afterward. If you should ta. into the water you would be promptly hshed out by friendly hands amid Masharahs, in all the tones of the chromatic scale. Down below. you are warned within an inch of your life about all the things you must not do in the caique. A caiQue is a small rowboat, the dainuest most graceful little craft in the world, but it was made to tip over
 If you get away from the landing without being spilled out into the water you breathe one sigh of relief, but not more than one. for the Golden Horn is very narrow and very busy, and any moment you may look up at the brow of a steamer bearing down upon you at full speed Behind you. and to the right of you. and to the left of you, are clumsy freight boats man, aged by scoIdiug bOatmeu. And just here one of your oarsmcn does what he has forbidden you to do-stands up in his place. Wildly gesticuIatiug, hc scolds back in picturesque Turkish at a careless steersman who has nearly tipped you over. After you have had