M. ----, a Perote, one who knew "the difference between alum and
barley-sugar,"[3] if ever man did, a good catholic, a conscientious
person, a dragoman, and as such necessarily attached to truth, and never
telling a lie, save in the way of business, was himself the hero, or the
witness rather of the story he narrated. He was sent one morning from
the European palace of ----, at Pera, on business in Constantinople. He
was in a great hurry, but as he reached the Meytiskellesi, or wharf of
the dead, and was about stepping into his cäik to be rowed across the
harbour of the Golden Horn, either a nail in one of the rough planks of
the wooden quay caught his slipper, or a post on it his robe, I forget
which--but the dragoman turned round, and saw standing close by him, a
tall and very notorious African magician, who had long been practising
at the capital, and was known to every body as one of the lions of the
place. To do a civil thing, and perhaps to keep well in this world with
one who had intercourse with the spirits of the next, the dragoman
naturally supposing he was waiting there on the water's edge only to
cross over from the suburb to the city, very politely invited him to
take a passage in his cäik. The tall African made no verbal reply, but
smiled, and waved his hand to decline the high honour.

[3] A Turkish saying, much in use.

The dragoman then concluding, that instead of waiting to cross over
himself, he was expecting the arrival of some one from the opposite side
of the Golden Horn, stepped into his cäik, which instantly glided from
the quay and shot across the port. The boats at Constantinople are all
very light and sharp, and go with astonishing speed, even when propelled
with one pairs of oars; but people of high consideration, like