to his own satisfaction and, by inference, to mine. We have two more days in the yailis and cannot afford to lose time.
Our next halting-place is still more primitive, with its four houses, the tiny inn, a large stable, and a poultry yard. Here, however, the Mayor is ready to join us, in his long Persian shawl, robe, and turban, his documents wrapped in a case of flannel. Like the driver, I notice that, as he steps into his seat, he is careful to take off his muddy shoes. Indeed, the godly cleanliness of Islam, if it does not quite follow our Western traditions, is a very real and honest ideal. The body, as the cheik had assured me, is clean if the clothes be dirty; and I am beginning to think that those "little visitors" in the hotel beds must really be "suffered in kindness."
I well remember the shock with which one of my friends met the suggestion that he might drown some of the kittens who were arriving, just then, with most alarming rapidity. He said, "the Koran would not permit it!"
Another weary day, amidst so much mud and so many ruins, naturally stirs my companion to thoughts of what might be done by a few dollars.
"I do not mind your having any concessions," I said, "if you will keep your hands off the architecture. I was hearing the other day about a scheme for building a railway in co-operation with the Turks: one rail to be laid by them and the other by the Americans! I should feel far more safe in a yaili with one wheel!
It is a delightful pastime to work out big schemes for smashing up Europe, Asia, and America; in order to rebuild the world tastefully and according to hygiene, like a couple of happy children with their bricks; but we have at last reached the conclusion of the whole matter. East is East and West is West. If they attempt to "take turns" building railways, the trains will certainly "go off the line."
I have never been able to understand why anyone should be so afraid of the Cheriat Laws. With all
