DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.4752#0035
TURKISH VILLAGE LIFE IN ASIA MINOR 2$
a muscle till the medicines arrived, two or three
hours later.
The British Consul at Angora in 1882, Mr.
Gatheral, a Glasgow man, who died shortly after
our visit, told us a very characteristic story of
Turkish habits. Stevens, the first cyclist to make
an excursion round the world, had passed through
Angora a year or two previously. His arrival on
one of the old lofty " bone-shakers " caused im-
mense excitement, and his departure on the fol-
lowing day was made a public ceremony. A great
crowd, including, I think, the Vali-Pasha himself,
assembled at the city gate from which he started,
and it was arranged that a cannon should be fired
as he mounted, partly as a signal to the crowds of
gazers along the road, partly, perhaps, as a com-
pliment to him. A number of Turks collected at
a wayside coffee-house a mile or more up the
winding road that leads towards the East. They
waited till the gun fired, then they all rose up, each
selected his own shoes among the pile that lay at
the door, shuffled his way into his shoes, and then
shuffled to the roadside a few yards from the
house, and sat down to wait till the strange
machine with one wheel arrived. They sat for
an hour, and began to think there was some delay,
f hey sat for another hour, and then some of them
began to drop off to other pressing concerns. The
a muscle till the medicines arrived, two or three
hours later.
The British Consul at Angora in 1882, Mr.
Gatheral, a Glasgow man, who died shortly after
our visit, told us a very characteristic story of
Turkish habits. Stevens, the first cyclist to make
an excursion round the world, had passed through
Angora a year or two previously. His arrival on
one of the old lofty " bone-shakers " caused im-
mense excitement, and his departure on the fol-
lowing day was made a public ceremony. A great
crowd, including, I think, the Vali-Pasha himself,
assembled at the city gate from which he started,
and it was arranged that a cannon should be fired
as he mounted, partly as a signal to the crowds of
gazers along the road, partly, perhaps, as a com-
pliment to him. A number of Turks collected at
a wayside coffee-house a mile or more up the
winding road that leads towards the East. They
waited till the gun fired, then they all rose up, each
selected his own shoes among the pile that lay at
the door, shuffled his way into his shoes, and then
shuffled to the roadside a few yards from the
house, and sat down to wait till the strange
machine with one wheel arrived. They sat for
an hour, and began to think there was some delay,
f hey sat for another hour, and then some of them
began to drop off to other pressing concerns. The