Nearly all the foreign legations except our own have summer
residences there and beautiful grounds.
[Illustration: OBELISK OF THEODOSIUS.]
Following the old aqueduct built by the emperor Hadrian, which still
supplies Stamboul with water, and is exceedingly picturesque with its
high dripping arches covered with luxuriant ivy, we reached the walls
which protected the city on the land-side, and then, threading our way
through the narrow, dirty streets, we returned to the Golden Horn. I do
not wonder, after what I have seen of this part of Stamboul, that the
cholera made such ravages here a few years since. I should think it
would remain a constant scourge. Calling a caique, we were rowed up the
Golden Horn to the Sweet Waters, but its tide floated only our own boat,
and the banks lacked the attraction of the gay groups which render the
place so lively on Fridays. We were served with coffee by a Turk who
with his little brasier of coals was waiting under a wide-spreading tree
for any chance visitor, and after a short stroll on the bank opposite
the sultan's pretty palace we floated gently down the stream till we
reached the Golden Horn again. On a large meadow near the mouth of the
Sweet Waters some Arabs were camped with an immense flock of sheep. They
had brought them there to shear and wash the wool in the fresh water,
and the ground was covered with large quantities of beautiful long
fleece. The shepherds in their strange mantles and head-dresses looked
very picturesque as they spread the wool and tended their flocks.
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