THE RED RUGS OF TARSUS
bert scoffed at the idea, but he humored me and went to find his gray felt hat.
Must go to marking examination papers of my rhetoric class. Can you imagine me an English Reader like Miss Marsh? You were afraid three lectures a week and two rhetoric lessons would be a lot for me to manage, but Mother dear, these boys are hungry for an edu- cation. I long for a copy of one of the rhet- orics we used at college. Have improvised a text book. Coaxed it out of my memory. I averaged two hours a day, typewriting the ma- terial on our Hammond. The boys drink in my stupid lectures the way the Cilician Plain drinks in the first autumn rains. I gave a stiff quiz just after the Easter vacation. I am con- tinuing the daily themes and the critical papers. I have learned a lot from the boys about the fable in Turkish literature. Also about habits of camels, and the real Abraham Lincoln. Can't you see me rehashing Bryn Mawr Eng- lish and adapting it to the Tarsians?
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