g., that a certain captain was ordered to take his vessel to Crete,
and after cruising about some time returned, not being able to find the
island. Another captain stopped an English vessel one fine day to ask
where he was, as he had lost his reckoning, although the weather had
been perfectly clear for some time. In the Golden Horn lies an old
four-decker which during the Crimean war was run broadside under a
formidable battery by her awkward crew, who were unable to manage her,
and began in their fright to jump overboard. A French tugboat went to
the rescue and towed her off.
On our way to the hotel we saw the sultan's son, a boy of fifteen. He
was driving in a fine open carriage drawn by a very handsome span of bay
horses, and preceded by four outriders mounted on fine Arabian horses.
Coachman, footman and outriders, in the black livery of the sultan, were
resplendent in gold lace. The harness was of red leather and the
carriage painted of the same bright color. The cushions were of white
silk embroidered with scarlet flowers. It was a dashing equipage, but
seemed better suited to a harem beauty than the dark, Jewish-looking boy
in the awkward uniform of a Turkish general who was its sole occupant.
[Illustration: TURKISH QUARTER--STAMBOUL.]
Yesterday we took our last stroll in Constantinople, crossing the Golden
Horn by the new bridge to Stamboul. This bridge is a busy spot, for
besides the constant throngs that cross and recross, it is the favorite
resort of beggars and dealers in small wares.
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