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Page 30
"I thought Turks wore long beards?"
"The lower-class Turks, and the country ones, and those who like to
follow the old fashions, wear beards, but they have their heads shaved,
and wear the turban. Most modern Turks, Government officials, and so
forth, shave off their beards and whiskers, and wear short hair and a
moustache, with the fez, or cloth cap. The old-fashioned dress is much
the handsomest, I think, and I am sorry it is dying out."
"The poor women-Turks aren't allowed to go out, are they, Cousin
Peregrine?"
"Oh yes, they are, but they have to be veiled, and so bundled up that
you can not only not tell one woman from another, but they hardly look
like women at all--more like unsteady balloons, or inflated sacks of
different colours. They wear yellow leather boots, and no stockings.
Over the boots they wear large slippers, in which they shuffle along
with a gait very little less awkward than the toddle of a cramp-footed
lady in China. If they are ungraceful on foot, matters are not much
better when they ride. Sitting astride a donkey (for they do not use
side-saddles), a Turkish lady is about as comical an object as you could
wish to behold, though I have no doubt she is quite unconscious of
looking anything but dignified, as she presses on to her shopping in the
Bazaar, screaming to the half-naked Arab donkey-boy to urge on her steed
with his stick. As the great cloak dress, in which women envelop
themselves from head to foot when they go out, is all of one colour,
they have this advantage over Englishwomen out shopping, that they do
not look ugly from being bedizened with ill-assorted hues and frippery
trimmings. In fact a mass of Turkish women, each clothed in one shade of
colour, looks very like a flower-bed--a flower-bed of sole-coloured
tulips without stalks!"
"The Bazaars are bigger than Charity Bazaars, I suppose," said Maggie
thoughtfully; "are they as big as the Baker Street Bazaar?"
"The Bazaar of Stamboul, the Turkish Quarter of Constantinople, is
almost a Quarter by itself. It takes up many, many streets, Maggie. I am
sure I wish with all my heart I could take you children through it. You
would think yourselves in fairy-land, or rather in some of those
underground caves full of dazzling treasures such as Aladdin found
himself in."
"But why, Cousin Peregrine? Do the Turks have very wonderful things in
their shops?"
"I fancy, Maggie, that in no place in the world can one see such a
collection of valuable merchandise gathered from all quarters of the
globe. But it is not only the gold, the jewels, the ivories, the
gorgeous silks and brocades, morocco leathers, and priceless furs, which
make these great Eastern markets unlike ours. The common wares for
everyday use are often of a much more picturesque kind than with us.
There is no great beauty in an English boot-shop, but the shoe-bazaar in
Stamboul is gay with slippers of all colours, embroidered with gold and
silver thread, to say nothing of the ladies' yellow leather boots. A
tobacconist's shop with us is interesting to none but smokers, but
Turkish pipes have stems several feet long, made of various kinds of
wood, and these and the amber mouth-pieces, which are often of very
great value, and enriched with jewels, make the pipe-seller's wares
ornamental as well as useful. Nor can our gunsmiths' shops compete for
picturesqueness with the Bazaar devoted to arms, of all sorts and kinds,
elaborately mounted, decorated, sheathed, and jewelled. Turkey and
Persian carpets and rugs are common enough in England now, and you know
how handsome they are. Turbans, and even fezes, you will allow to look
prettier than English hats. Then some of the shops display things that
one does not see at all at home, such as the glass lamps for hanging in
the mosques and Greek churches. Nor is it the things for sale alone
which make the Bazaar so wonderful a sight. The buyers and sellers are
at least as picturesque as what they sell and buy. The floor of each
shop is raised two or three feet from the ground, and on a gay rug the
turbaned Turk who keeps it sits cross-legged and smokes his pipe and
makes his bargains, whilst down the narrow street (which in many
instances is arched overhead with stone) there struggle, and swarm, and
scream, and fight, black slaves, obstinate camels, primitive-looking
chariots full of Turkish ladies, people of all colours in all costumes,
and from every part of the world."
"It must be a wonderful place," sighed Maggie; "streets full of
beautiful shoes, and streets full of beautiful carpets."
"Just so, Maggie."
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