The Monticellonian., 1918-07-26

while you stand on the pavement You will. of course, be in the way of all pe- destrians. especially as there will be sure to be one or two interested spec tators of your deal; but then, to stop the traffic, either on the kings high way or on the sidewalk, is quite per missble in Saloniki.
 Two friends meet in the street, they stop, exchange salutations, and an ami mated conversation ensues. They take up Il great deal of room; but every one respects the unwritten law of the Orient and our two worthies continue their discourse, needless of time and place, as only your true Oriental can be. This sort of thing would be entire ly out of place in q western land. Should we attempt 1t, our fellow men would resent il, and we should become exceedingly unpopular All this may seem rather small matter to dwell upon: but il is really ane of those pc euliarities which make great impress sion on the new arrival. In course of time we grow accustomed to it. and usually find ourselves respecting the law of the East
 As We pass from the landing stage on our road to the base camps 1t is borne home to us that the inhabitants are of many and varied races, and if further proof were wanting the ciamor of many tongues would at once con- firm IL. Bearded, sun-tanned fishermen, fine fellows, who would add luster to any stage production of "Sinbad," spruce. well-dressed clerks and mer- chants and hosts of ragged. nonde script raseals mingle together on all sides. Turkish women with yashmak and quaint trouserings, all complete, move side by side with Greek ladies. arrayed in the very latest vogue. and needless of the passing throng strides tall Greek priest, umbrella in hand, with his flowing black robes and his ample locks crowned by the quaint headdress of his creed-not unlike an inverted tall hat.
 Crowds of soldiers of course are there. khaki-clad English and Serbs. Frenchmen. prominent in their new blue uniforms, sage coated Italians and Russians in their tightly-belted blouse tunics. Add to all this motley crowd swarms of partially clad children. whose never ceasing cry Is penny, Johnny and you have some idea of what a Saloniki crowd Is like. Include the noise, smell and indescribable dirt and you have Saloniki complete.
 Familiar Traffic Officer
 The roadway is packed with traffic, too. Slow moving bullock carts hold up the flying motor lOrries and the horse and mule transport of the allies comes and goes in neyer-ending stream. Leaving the English quay, we come to a large open space, the june tion of four of the principal thorough fares, and here the press is worse than ever. This is Piccadilly circus, for wherever the English soldier goes he dearly loves to christen places after familiar spots in the home country. 1t may be Il communication trench or it may be road or street, 1t Is all one to him and name it has. In the middle ; of all this is tall khaki-clad military
 
 he holds up the stream of traffic to al- low our column to pass. There is something very familiar in that majes tic action. it is done so naturally, there is no shadow of doubt In his expres sion as to the signal betng instantly obeyed. Our soldier policeman is in his element. his present job is not new. it is child's play for him. this handling of few lorries and swarm of noisy 1 Orientals after the traffic in Piecadilly over the sea-or it may have been the Marble arch--for his name and number will be found in the roll of honor of the London police force. He has done bit of soldering since he 1 left England and now he Is once again 1 the guardian of the public, power to l be reckoned with.
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