The Monticellonian., 1916-05-25

ern roofs rise from the blue
 bay up to the old Mohammedan
 town There on the summit delicate minarets and expresses stand out against 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. very small boy wheels the barrow un- 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 Delphi2 good guide" "Sirree your boat gomorre? Where come from? Engleesh? Yes?" Hotel Rome, good hotel'" You come Paris hotel mel" A persistent shoeblack backs in front of me the whole way hn olo iat t,D 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 small alert figure, pointing it's accusing finger at your feet. 'Ss-s-t S-s-s-ti" And. indeed. for the sake of peace 1t 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 hissing 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 busintSs. He first wiped the dust off with a 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 role of shoeblaek profitable one at Saloniki, I myself used to give my boots ten minutes respite; but this was according to the attractiveness or otherwise of the shoeblack.
 Still a Turkish Town.
 Saloniki has only been in Greek oc- cupation a couple of years or so, and is still 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 1t is winter), and black or fur caps on their heads, and most are singularly good looking. Their womankind - seldom seen-has pie turesque head dresses of emerald green silk. with long streamers flow ing out behind. covered with Hebrew characters. I 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 It Is full of Greek money changers twhere you also buy tobacco and stamps1. bootshops and the usual open shops 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