THE RED RUGS OF TARSUS
But you know, Mother, the elemental in me would not allow me to see a horse get the better of my man. I gave Herbert my whip. He tried again, and got by. Pony, who had long ago received "the third degree" when we first discovered that wheel, followed easily.
Alas, the days of horseback have passed for me until next summer.
The other day we made a second trip to the sea, this time in a carriage. Socrates was on the box, and Herbert was gallant enough to forego his mount and ride with me.
Halfway we stopped at a tchiflik (farm- house) to water the horses and try to buy eggs. Every farmer has half a dozen dogs ugly fel- lows that give low growls. They hate you the way their Mohammedan masters hate you. After the tenant of the farm-house had driven back his dogs, he surprised us by showing un- usual friendliness. We asked for eggs. He said he had none. This we knew was cheerful mendacity: so we pressed him further. Fi- [64]
�� �
