THE RED RUGS OF TARSUS
rates are every bit as fine, every bit as thor- oughbred, as Anglo-Saxon boys of the best blood and training.
I am back safely with oil and candles, too. Now I am ready for what may come in the night.
In the assembly-room of the big school- building, some of the refugees had gathered around the pastor of the Protestant Church. It was an impromptu prayer-meeting. They were singing hymns. I do not understand Turkish, but, as they use our tunes, I knew the hymns. It was a comfort to steal in, and sit down for a while among my fellow-sufferers. Only eight months ago, when we first came to Cilicia, and went to church up in the Taurus Mountains summer place, I remember how queer these people looked to me. They be- longed to another world. I was an outsider. I had difficulty in understanding some traits of their character. I was hasty in my judgment of them hasty through ignorance. I was im- [109]
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