feet wide, and shut in on either side by the high mud-walls of the

gardens. At last we got to where lanterns could be seen flitting about

here and there, and knew we were in the midst of the curious old city.

In a little narrow street, crowded with our pack-mules and with a swarm

of uncouth Arabs, we alighted, and through a kind of a hole in the wall

entered the hotel. We stood in a great flagged court, with flowers and

citron trees about us, and a huge tank in the centre that was receiving

the waters of many pipes. We crossed the court and entered the rooms

prepared to receive four of us. In a large marble-paved recess between

the two rooms was a tank of clear, cool water, which was kept running

over all the time by the streams that were pouring into it from half a

dozen pipes. Nothing, in this scorching, desolate land could look so

refreshing as this pure water flashing in the lamp-light; nothing could

look so beautiful, nothing could sound so delicious as this mimic rain to

ears long unaccustomed to sounds of such a nature. Our rooms were large,

comfortably furnished, and even had their floors clothed with soft,

cheerful-tinted carpets. It was a pleasant thing to see a carpet again,

for if there is any thing drearier than the tomb-like, stone-paved

parlors and bed-rooms of Europe and Asia, I do not know what it is.

They make one think of the grave all the time. A very broad, gaily

caparisoned divan, some twelve or fourteen feet long, extended across one

side of each room, and opposite were single beds with spring mattresses.

There were great looking-glasses and marble-top tables. All this luxury

was as grateful to systems and senses worn out with an exhausting day's

travel, as it was unexpected--for one can not tell what to expect in a

Turkish city of even a quarter of a million inhabitants.

518

The Innocents Abroad