CONSTANTINOPLE. 
121 
handsome and fashionable hotel, situated in one of the principal 
streets of Pera. I recommend it at a glance to all traveling 
gentlemen who desire to get rid of their money in the most 
expeditious manner. The ante-rooms and passages are crowded 
from morning till night with stylish dragomans, guides, domes¬ 
tics and lackeys, who seem always ready and willing to 
show inexperienced tourists how such a thing can be accom¬ 
plished without loss of time. 
I was ushered up a flight of stairs into a grand saloon, and 
from the grand saloon out again and.up several more flights 
of stairs, till a door was knocked at, and my name was an¬ 
nounced. “ Ah, mon Dieu !” cried the Madam, “ encore Mon¬ 
sieur General!”—“Yery good hotel dis!” said the Doctor, 
coming forward to meet me, “walk in; sit down; take some 
wine ! very good wine dis ! De Madam is a little indispose, 
but to-morrow he shall be better.” 
We had a very pleasant time of it, in relating our adven¬ 
tures from the day of parting at Smyrna; and having made 
an engagement to visit the Giant’s Mountain on the following 
day, we shook hands again and parted with a profusion of 
friendly bows on both sides. 
After all the romance of oriental life, as described in books, 
and the charm of laziness so beautifully depicted by poetical 
writers, there is a want of real comfort and enjoyment pain¬ 
fully apparent throughout Constantinople. A person of ener¬ 
getic temperament would soon desire a change. The novelty 
of picturesque costumes and strange languages and customs 
soon wears away, and one begins to feel the want of more ex¬ 
citing scenes to keep up the interest. During the day it is 
pleasant enough to ramble about the bazaars, oT take a stroll 
over the hills; but when night comes there is a dreary void, 
which nothing but the remembrance of more exciting scenes 
can fill. A miserable opera or a tawdry theatre in Pera may 
serve to kill time for one or two evenings, but after that you 
might as well be in the midst of a desert—better, in fact, for 
then you would not be disturbed by howling dogs or the ever¬ 
lasting cries of “ Yang far! Yang far /”—the fire in Stam- 
boul that can never be seen. The streets* are of inky dark- 
. F 
