very good address, talking Greek to those who could not speak Turkish. I presented the Pasha's letter, which he read three times with profound attention; he then sent for the Greek primates of the village, who are to him what the aldermen are to the Lord Mayor, and for the fourth time he read the mandate, explaining its purport in Greek,—how the Pasha had ordered the primates to give the Consoles Bey and his friend from the Embassy every possible attention; how it was the duty of the whole village of Ayasso, collectively and individually, to devote themselves to our service during our stay. Then we were billeted for the night on a Greek, to whom I also had a letter of introduction, and adjourned to his house with the Aga. We found a very clean, neat little room, with the same divan and windows on one side, and wainscot with vast cupboards and closets all round. The sides of the room were ornamented with very quaint paintings, such as the Greek village folk delight in,—flowers, strange animals, and in one compartment a very peculiar view of Constantinople, treated in a symbolical manner, the whole shipping of the Golden Horn being indicated by a single vessel, the Seraglio Point by a cypress-tree, and the rest of the city being represented in an equally abbreviated form.
When we were installed on the divan, with the Aga between us, the Greek primates at the sides of the room, the wife of our host waiting on us, with pipes and coffee, and the cavasses and retainers ranged at a respectful distance near the door, we felt exceedingly happy. The Aga was very agreeable; and
