The cemetery
in all Turkish towns is a favourite place of public resort, but I cannot
say that it is kept in very nice order, as a rule. For the sake of a
water-colour sketch I made in one, I was very glad that the upright
headstones were tumbling about in all directions, it took away the look
of stiffness and monotony; but I am bound to say that the graves looked
neglected as well as picturesque. The cemetery at Pera had too much
refuse, and too many cocks, hens, and dogs in it. It looked very pretty,
however, from my windows, sloping down towards the Golden Horn, beyond
which I could catch a glimpse of Stamboul on the heights across the
water. But I have not yet told you what Constantinople looked like when
I first saw it."
"You began about the Sea of Marmora, Cousin, and here it is. I've had
my middle finger on it ever since we found it, to keep the place."
"Very good, Maggie. We were coming up the Sea of Marmora one evening,
and drew near to Constantinople about sunrise. I knew we were near, but
I could not see anything, because a thick white mist hung in front of us
like a veil resting on the sea. We were near the mouth of the Bosphorus
when the sun broke out, the white mist rose slowly, like the curtain of
a theatre, and--more beautiful than any scene that human hands can ever
paint--I saw the Queen of Cities glittering in the sunshine.
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