﻿672 
  

  

  THE 
  NATIONAL 
  GEOGRAPHIC 
  MAGAZINE 
  

  

  m 
  

  

  ( 
  

  

  m 
  

  

  Photograph 
  by 
  Solita 
  Solano 
  

  

  A 
  GYPSY 
  FORTUNTv-TKLLKR 
  

  

  A 
  feature 
  of 
  life 
  in 
  Constantinople 
  is 
  the 
  gypsy 
  

   fortune-teller 
  from 
  Arabia, 
  who 
  walks 
  under 
  the 
  win- 
  

   dows 
  all 
  day, 
  crying, 
  'T 
  read 
  your 
  future 
  in 
  your 
  hands." 
  

   Many 
  gypsies 
  live 
  in 
  the 
  ruins 
  of 
  the 
  old 
  walls, 
  winter 
  

   and 
  summer. 
  The 
  cloth 
  of 
  which 
  this 
  woman's 
  baggy 
  

   trousers 
  are 
  made 
  came 
  from 
  America. 
  

  

  flowers 
  and 
  vines 
  and 
  gilded 
  railings. 
  

   The 
  older 
  ones 
  are 
  gray, 
  and 
  their 
  in- 
  

   scriptions 
  are 
  almost 
  defaced 
  by 
  the 
  rains 
  

   of 
  centuries. 
  Many 
  graves 
  are 
  so 
  old 
  

   that 
  the 
  stones 
  have 
  fallen 
  and 
  the 
  earth 
  

   has 
  crumbled 
  in 
  upon 
  forgotten 
  bones, 
  

   now 
  laid 
  open 
  to 
  view. 
  

  

  Women 
  drive 
  here 
  from 
  the 
  country 
  in 
  

   gaily 
  painted 
  wagons 
  with 
  curtains 
  which 
  

   they 
  need 
  no 
  longer 
  draw. 
  They 
  bring 
  

   their 
  children 
  and 
  wilted 
  chrysanthe- 
  

   mums; 
  then 
  sit 
  idly, 
  without 
  needle 
  or 
  

   book, 
  staring 
  into 
  space, 
  or 
  else 
  patronize 
  

  

  the 
  letter-writer 
  or 
  fruit-venders, 
  

   who 
  lie 
  in 
  wait 
  for 
  their 
  custom. 
  

   Beggars 
  lounge 
  in 
  the 
  sun. 
  Near 
  

   by 
  a 
  stone-cutter 
  chisels 
  a 
  fez 
  on 
  

   a 
  new 
  tombstone. 
  ' 
  

  

  In 
  the 
  Scutari 
  cemetery, 
  the 
  

   largest 
  burial 
  place 
  in 
  the 
  East, 
  

   a 
  Turk 
  followed 
  me 
  about 
  while 
  

   I 
  photographed 
  his 
  cows, 
  which 
  

   he 
  had 
  shut 
  up 
  for 
  safekeeping 
  in 
  

   a 
  private 
  burial 
  plot 
  (see 
  p. 
  664). 
  

  

  He 
  said 
  he 
  had 
  been 
  waiting 
  

   for 
  some 
  time 
  to 
  have 
  the 
  move- 
  

   ments 
  of 
  the 
  earth 
  and 
  sun 
  ex- 
  

   plained 
  to 
  him. 
  He 
  could 
  not 
  

   understand 
  why 
  it 
  was 
  said 
  to 
  be 
  

   night 
  in 
  America 
  when 
  it 
  was 
  

   day 
  in 
  Turkey. 
  I 
  explained, 
  but, 
  

   as 
  I 
  was 
  leaving, 
  he 
  said: 
  "Yes, 
  

   that's 
  what 
  they 
  say; 
  but 
  all 
  the 
  

   same 
  I 
  don't 
  believe 
  it 
  is 
  night 
  in 
  

   America 
  at 
  this 
  moment." 
  

  

  SANCTA 
  SOPHIA 
  IS 
  CAREFULLY 
  

   GUARDED 
  

  

  Sancta 
  Sophia, 
  standing 
  on 
  the 
  

   first 
  of 
  Constantinople's 
  seven 
  

   hills, 
  now 
  has 
  soldiers' 
  barracks 
  

   at 
  one 
  side 
  and 
  guards 
  every- 
  

   where. 
  The 
  Turks 
  greatly 
  fear 
  

   that 
  through 
  the 
  Greeks 
  harm 
  

   may 
  come 
  to 
  their 
  favorite 
  

   mosque 
  and 
  have 
  ordered 
  that 
  no 
  

   person 
  of 
  Hellenic 
  blood 
  be 
  per- 
  

   mitted 
  to 
  pass 
  the 
  portals. 
  Pass- 
  

   ports 
  from 
  all 
  except 
  Moham- 
  

   medans 
  are 
  demanded 
  at 
  the 
  gate, 
  

   and 
  the 
  galleries 
  are 
  opened 
  only 
  

   by 
  special 
  order 
  from 
  the 
  police. 
  

   From 
  early 
  morning 
  until 
  eve- 
  

   ning 
  the 
  mosque 
  is 
  visited 
  by 
  

   Allied 
  soldiers, 
  who 
  have 
  heard 
  

   all 
  their 
  lives 
  of 
  this 
  "terrestrial 
  

   paradise, 
  the 
  second 
  firmament, 
  

   the 
  car 
  of 
  the 
  cherubim, 
  the 
  throne 
  of 
  the 
  

   glory 
  of 
  God, 
  the 
  marvel 
  of 
  the 
  earth, 
  

   and 
  the 
  largest 
  temple 
  in 
  the 
  world 
  after 
  

   St. 
  Peter's," 
  that 
  Justinian 
  built 
  in 
  less 
  

   than 
  six 
  years. 
  

  

  American 
  sailors, 
  English 
  "Tommies," 
  

   Italian 
  and 
  French 
  officers 
  and 
  soldiers 
  

   wander 
  about, 
  caps 
  off, 
  watching 
  the 
  

   Turks 
  pray 
  for 
  the 
  safety 
  of 
  their 
  city. 
  

   They 
  gaze 
  in 
  wonder 
  at 
  the 
  vast 
  vault 
  

   suspended 
  over 
  their 
  heads, 
  at 
  the 
  half 
  

   domes, 
  the 
  107 
  marble 
  columns, 
  the 
  hun- 
  

   dreds 
  of 
  windows, 
  immense 
  galleries, 
  

  

  