The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1916-06-02
TIER upon tier Of crowded east
ern roofs rise from the blue
how TT, to tho old ohammadap

ern roofs rise from the blue
bay up to the old Mohammedan
town. There on the summit
delicate minarets and expresses stand
out against a lemon sky. Ones eye
turns gratefully from the clamorous
Greek boatmen and jostling porters
which crowd boat and quay to the
lovely lines of the sailing boats, which
bring back from the past many an old
classic tag. In just such a boat did
the old Greeks set forth on their ad-
ventures. perhaps even to the quest Of
the Golden Fleece, writes Constance
Brooke in London Graphic. And
what contrast they must have been,
those grand men. to the modern Greek
with his supple fingers and voluble
tongue, and anxious efforts to COM
promise! The luggage is at last ex-
tracted from the hubbub by force. A
very small boy wheels the barrow I'M
der a stream of instructions from a
rabble, who would not lay one lordly
finger on it to help but find huge de-
light in directing the weak one, and,
shouting chaff and information to
everyone we meet, convey me to the
hotel. Soft voices pur in my ear.
You go Delphi? l good guide"
Stree your boat gomorre? Where
come from? Engleesh? Yes?" Hotel
Rome, good hotel" you come Paris
hotel me-" A persistent shoeblack
backs in front of me the whole way
like the lord chamberlain. pointing to
my boots. Who that has been there
does not connect Saloniki with shoe
blacks and long-robed, stately Jews?
At every corner. from every alley,
there darts out a small alert figure,
pointing its accusing finger at your
feet. "S-s-s-t. S-s-s-t!" And, indeed,
for the sake of peace it is better to
resign oneself, or there is, indeed,
no peace from these gadf1ies.
While dust rests on your shoes that
figure will rise up, that finger will
point. that kissing whisper sound in
your ear I have been haunted by my
recollections somewhat willingly,
must confess) of a Turkish boy with
a winning smile, bare feet for an artist
and a red sash round his waist. defy
anyone to resist his pleading brown
eyes and that flashing smile-certainly
I cannot This was, or is, his mode OF
business. He first wiped the dust off
with rag. He then smeared on liber-
ally, from a bottle, very greasy oil,
and then proceeded to polish, while
still soaked in oil, with some unguent
out of box, Therefore is ones boot
a most cunning dust catcher and the
Saloniki, | myself used to give my
boots ten minutes respite: but this
was according to the attractiveness
or otherwise of the shoeblack.
Still Turkish Town.
Saloniki has only been in Greek oc-
cupation a couple of years or SO, and
Is still a Turkish town. The richer
Turks. not liking their masters, mi
grated to Turkey; only the poor ones.
not allowed by the Greeks to leave,
still remain. The lower part of the
town is a maze of tangled streets and
of hurrying foot passengers. Only the
stately Jews are unhurried. They are
bearded. and wear long black robes,
fur-edged (for it is winter. and black
or fur caps on their heads, and most
are singuarly good looking. Their
womankind - seldom seen-has pic
turesque head dresses Of emerald
green silk. with long streamers flow
ing out behind. covered with Hebrew
characters. l loved the Turkish eat
ing shops open to the street. their
counters filled with pyramids Of fruit,
dates and a gray-colored sweetmeat
which looked like putty. Strange odors
of cooking came from the inner re-
gions.
The bazar Is cobbled underfoot and
glass-roofed above 1t is full of Greek
money changers (where you also buy
tobacco and stamps), bootshops and
the usual open chops of the East. A
strange mixture of West and East,
neither fish, flesh, fowl. nor good red
herring. Here in the bazar you see
only Greeks and Jews. But go farther