OUR HOST, A LI EFFENDI. 339 



feeds per diem. In the centre of the table round which 

 we all sat was placed a large metal tray laden with 

 sundry dishes, whilst others were laid on the floor under 

 the charge of a domestic, whose time was fully occupied 

 in whisking off the thousands of flies and keeping several 

 cats at a distance. Our late habits of life made it easy 

 for us to fall in with those of our host and dip our spoons 

 into the common bowl of soup, and afterwards to practi- 

 cally accept the doctrine that fingers were made before 

 knives and. forks by diving into the several plates of 

 mutton, beef, and poultry cut into small pieces, and free 

 from an excess of ' butter/ garlic, or other horrible addi- 

 tion. Besides these, we had rice, mishmish, olives, bread 

 soaked in ' butter,' and bread dry, bread new, and bread 

 old, but the piece de resistance to all was a pile of pan- 

 cakes, very heavy and rather cold, which began and 

 ended each repast, and, though sufficiently palatable to 

 attract more than a passing notice, it was not, we found 

 afterwards to our cost, the most digestible food we had 

 eaten for some months. Ali Effendi is almost turned 

 out of his house by our large party, but he does not 

 appear to mind it. About sunset yesterday, and again 

 early this morning, twenty to thirty poor people collected 

 near his house, to each of whom he gave one or two small 

 loaves of bread from a basket which a small boy carried 

 on his head in front of his master as he walked amongst 

 them, and whatever motive may influence him in this 



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