DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.4752#0090
80 AN EXCURSION IN PHRYGIA
quest and wanted to get away home, for his de-
scription in no way corresponded to what he now
showed us. I refused to pay him until he showed
the lettered stone ; and quoted the terms of the
bargain. He argued that he had promised to
show me a kara-tash, not a mermer; and this was
a kara-tash. We all tried to show him that this
argument was a fallacy; but he refused to be
convinced ; and his obstinate reiteration of this
bad reasoning was not calculated to soothe our
wounded feelings. I ordered him off, unless he
showed us the "written stone"; and I shall never
forget the look of misery that came over his face,
as he realised that he was to get nothing. It has
often haunted me since, by day and by night.
I don't know how I was so stony hearted as to
turn the poor fellow away, to walk back more than
an hour in the rain without a penny ; but at the
moment I could not bear the loss of both the
Djineviz and the Roman road. I still see the look
that he cast back on me, as he turned slowly away,
a ragged, bent, poverty-stricken old man of fifty,
with his feet wrapt in old clouts in place of shoes,
shuffling along in the regular Turkish style, having
fallen from his golden dream to the hard reality of
penury. A shilling to him would have made him
contented and even rich: to me it was nothing ;
and yet I let him go away empty. It was an act
quest and wanted to get away home, for his de-
scription in no way corresponded to what he now
showed us. I refused to pay him until he showed
the lettered stone ; and quoted the terms of the
bargain. He argued that he had promised to
show me a kara-tash, not a mermer; and this was
a kara-tash. We all tried to show him that this
argument was a fallacy; but he refused to be
convinced ; and his obstinate reiteration of this
bad reasoning was not calculated to soothe our
wounded feelings. I ordered him off, unless he
showed us the "written stone"; and I shall never
forget the look of misery that came over his face,
as he realised that he was to get nothing. It has
often haunted me since, by day and by night.
I don't know how I was so stony hearted as to
turn the poor fellow away, to walk back more than
an hour in the rain without a penny ; but at the
moment I could not bear the loss of both the
Djineviz and the Roman road. I still see the look
that he cast back on me, as he turned slowly away,
a ragged, bent, poverty-stricken old man of fifty,
with his feet wrapt in old clouts in place of shoes,
shuffling along in the regular Turkish style, having
fallen from his golden dream to the hard reality of
penury. A shilling to him would have made him
contented and even rich: to me it was nothing ;
and yet I let him go away empty. It was an act