THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



Photograph by W. P. Whitlock 



the: porch op the; maidens (see page 593) 



The figure just above the American girl is a copy placed there to fill the space made vacant by 

 Lord Elgin when he took one of the maidens to the British Museum. 



Landing at Piraeus is not more dis- 

 agreeable than at any other Mediterra- 

 nean port. There is the same confusion, 

 the same noisy boatmen, the same ineffec- 

 tive harbor police, equally powerless with 

 those in Spain and Italy to control their 

 turbulent compatriots. Piraeus was once 

 famous for the high standard of its mu- 

 nicipal government; but this was long 

 ago, and it is now as dirty and unattrac- 

 tive a port as one can find in the Medi- 

 terranean. 



Attracted by the name "Themistocles," 

 which one of the leather-lunged boatmen 

 gave as his own, my friend and I surren- 

 dered ourselves to his mercy, and through 

 the noise and tumult finally reached the 

 shore. Customs formalities disposed of, 

 we stowed ourselves on an electric train 

 which took us in 20 minutes to Athens. 



This electric railway deserves a special 

 word of praise. It is one of the best 

 things in modern Greece,* well equipped 



*For accounts of modern Greece, see in the 

 National Geographic Magazine for October, 

 I 9 I 5» "Greece of To-day," and for February, 

 1921, "The Whirlpool of the Balkans," by George 

 Higgins Moses. 



and well run. Formerly travelers arriv- 

 ing at Piraeus had a disagreeable drive 

 over the six miles which separate the port 

 from the capital. The victims, in language 

 more or less blasphemous, have given 

 their opinion of the Greek road, the Greek 

 coachmen, the Greek horses, and the 

 Greek road-houses, which the trip fixed 

 indelibly on their minds. Hence this 

 bouquet thrown at random ! 



At Athens we found accommodation in 

 a hotel which was once the home of the 

 French Archeological School. From the 

 balconies we looked down on Constitution 

 Square, the heart of the city, and had a 

 superb view toward the Acropolis and 

 toward Hymettus. 



The latter was just changing the dusty 

 garment worn through the glaring day 

 and over her shoulders was slipping a 

 robe of deep violet of exquisite shade and 

 quality; the sun was dropping behind 

 Salamis; long shadows crept up the val- 

 leys and into the depths of the friendly 

 hills ; a star, which must have been Venus, 

 trembled over the still waters of the Sa- 

 ronic Gulf ; from the King's Garden, less 



