every day. Now I remembered that I had heard bands also in Smyrna and Constantinople.
It was graciously suggested that I should choose something myself for the band to play, and I asked that we might have some Turkish music. One of the deputies, it appeared, had written an opera; and after listening with great pleasure to some selections from his work, I was introduced to the composer. The opera, naturally written round the cause, is full of a pathos that brings tears to the eyes of an understanding audience. They also gave me a patriotic love song—the reunion of two lovers (Anatolia and Roumelia) after long years of separation—which I should like to have heard again and brought away with me. Its beauty was haunting, though not quite easy to follow at a first hearing.
For Roumelia, we know, her share in the horrors of war is over. Now it is Anatolia who must suffer. Trouble was even fomented among the tribes. First, the rebellion of the Roums, who were encouraged to stand for private independence; then the hostility of the Alewites, and the rebellion of Armenians in Cilicia; finally a rising of Circassian tribes—Durdje, Khandeke, Adabazar. Naturally again, the men to whom Abdul Medjid had given the villayet of Sivas, after the horrible massacres of 1864, were loyal to the Khalif's successor and furious at any idea of Nationalist interference.
The course of true love between these two nations had not run smoothly. No wonder their reunion should be celebrated with such appealing remorse!
The President of the Assembly, Mustapha Kemal Pasha, was talking to me one day of the French Revolution, and compared what he called his own "very elegant" beginning with the poor little Assembly in which Michelet had to work, with its single table and just a couple of chairs!
Here, in addition to the large ante-room and M. Kemal's bureau, the Vice-President, Adnan Bey, husband of Halidé Edib Hanoum—has his bureau;
