Pine Bluff daily graphic., 1916-06-11
GERMAN SHIPPING DISAPPEARS FROM
 PORT 0f P|RAEUS
Three Interned Steamers Represent Power That
 Once Was Germany.

The port of Piraeus possesses today | vastly different aspect from that of q year and q half ago The con ! spicuous offices of the Hamburg | Amerika, Norddeutscher Lloyd and 1 Austrian Lloyd lines, deserted and l forloln where once so busy, mark the passing of considerable factor lii ] the marine activity of the port ot Athens. Only three smokeless, neg lectec-looking vessels, moored stern to at the far sea wall, represent in ] their interned inaction the sea power i that once was Germany in these waters.
 Grain ships from America or the Argentine, tank steamers, huge trans ports swarming with Greek soldiers, ! tiny coasting vessels, towering trans Atlantics--all these crowd the Greek harbor. Along the quay lies the finance of the Foresight, British dispatch vessel, flying the red Union Jack; beyond the custom house is moored an Italian passenger steam. ship displaying the red, white and green; occasionally hulking, round shouldered workman of a Messageries Maritimes packet slips into port with the French tri-color flying and slips out again within few hours Save for these, where once the German, Austrian, Turkish and Rumanian flags abounded, now all the busy basin re- veals only the blue and white stripes and the white cross on blue ground of Hellas. On the quays, too, where once German was a current tongue, To little English, scattering of French and all the rest is Greek.
 Piraeus a Queer Spot.
 A queer spot, Piraeus, guarding still much of the primitiveness that Here the East is cheek by jowl with the West. Dirt, the mark of the East, 1 is paramount. Yet sitting before a cafe, the amber stem of narghila caught between his lips, white skirted farmer from the Attic hills watches an automobile sprinkling cart--of model so improved that perhaps few American cities boast the like-lay the dust and splash the passerby with equal effectiveness.
 Surrounding long haired religious fanatic, mounted on municipal re- fuse can far better than those to be seen in New York, is a crowd that in- cludes sturdy Cretans in baggy bloom CTS and high boots; Macedonian ref ugee women in colorful peasant cos tune; and neat, blue-clad sailors of the Greek navy, whose smart appear ance is due probably to the work of the British naval mission, but whose seamanship dates from the days of Jason and Ulysses.
 The electric cars of Berlin are not more perfectly appointed than those of Piraeus. Behind one comes fun eral-a funeral of the people. The long haired, long bearded, black-robed priest rides in a broken-doWn cab at the head of the procession; an acolyte l in white surplice and black crossed with gold braid, sits on the box beside the coachman, a brass, cross-capped staff in his hand. The hearse follows, a cheap but pretentious affair, ve neered in yellow, with glass sides to display the coffin within. As it passes, the Greeks on the sidewalks uncover and tap their breasts in vague man. ner intended to form the sign of the cross, executed backward in compari- son with the Roman Catholics, follow ing the ancient rite of the Greek church.
 Newsboys as of Park Row.
 A covey of newsboys who might have learned their business in Park Row race down the street crying the latest edition at the tops of their voices. One words stands out, "Venize. :" The Piraeus newsboy swallows the end of the Cretan's name-after all, the merest sugges- tion suffices, so we'll known it is.
 One of the newsboys stops to buy a glass of lemonade of an old Turk, who carries his shop around on his back. It is huge copper turnip with a stem a yard long that curves over his right shoulder On a hook at his waist is smaller copper pot contain ing water with which the vender rinses the glasses hanging on hooks at his belt. To pour the lemonade, the old Turk merely bends over, holding the glass aloft in his right hand. The movement tits the copper turnip and out runs the liquid.
 As the cool of the evening comes, the sidewalk cafes are crowded. The streets swarm with beggars-little girls with faded flowers who push their way among the tables and seek to pin their posies on the coats of likely-looking gentlemen too polite to push away the scrawney little hands. A man with phonograph under his arm sets it up on vacant table and :. takes a battered record from under his coat-"Waiting for the Robert E. Lee" or "Get Out and Get Under" When the concert is over, the me- chanical musician exacts his toll from all and sundry within hearing dis tance. Prosperous mendicants, these. But in the shadows, shy and fright ened, yet desperate with hunger, babes in arms, turk the wives of Greece's mobilized but inactive army, , creeping out to acost the more fort } unate with their almost unintelligible singsong of misery.