Rensselaer Union, Volume 7, Number 34, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 May 1875 — A Street in Constantinople. [ARTICLE]

A Street in Constantinople.

A correspondent of the London Daily Telegraph, writing from Constantinople, says: “ Spite of its dirt and squalor, the Grand Rue is interesting. It is the scene of a movement almost unexampled in Europe. Turks arid Greeks, Albanians, Armenians, Circassians, Fubians, Arabs, Maltese, English, French, Russians, Germans, all the nationalities of the world, in fact, help to make up its population. Over its rough, slimy stones passes up and down a careless stream of humanity, now forced for a moment to stop that the carriage of some Grand Pasha, with its hut-riders, may find a passage; now giving way to a body of Turkish soldiers, who march as if they were flying in disordered retreat from a field of battle; now driven pell-mell before a dashing officer on horseback, who never dreams of drawing rein, although women and children are in helpless confusion before him; and now fighting their way between the uncouth wheels of a timber-laden vehicle, drawn by buffaloes, whose spreading and pointed horns threaten to transfix the poor pedestrian if by chance he escapes being crushed beneath the burden they are hauling. Here comes a jolting hack, dignified with the title of carriage, filled with Turkish women in blue and pink silks, their faces Covered by the ’ muslin folds of the yashmac. If you can get a good look at them en passant you will not; be fascinated by their beauty, for the half-veil, although most seductive, is now worn so thin as scarcey to conceal the thick noses, gross lips, and flabby faces of these beauties of the hsem. They are ‘going shopping’— probably to purchase French jewelry at double its value to adorn their persons for the benefit of the Pasha, their master, and their fellow-associates of the harem, for, excepting these, no society do they enjoy. Here, in contrast to them, are some Turkish women on foot accompanied by their servant, a fat old black woman, who is also concealing her Nubian loveliness beneath a yashmac of snowy muslin. These, perhaps, are the wives of a tradesman, or they would not be on foot. They are wrapped in ferigees, or flowing mantles, of brightly-dyed .cotton cloth—purple, and green, and crimson—the effect of which with their yellow slippers is very picturesque. They turn their eyes away as they pass us, for to look upon a man, and least of all a ‘ dog of a Christian,’ would be a most unhallowed proceeding.” As some have inquired about canning strawberries, I will give my recipe: I fill the cans with berries and then dissolve the sugar in a little water and pour it in, not filling them quite full, then put them in a kettle of cold water and let them boil fifteen or twenty minutes. After I take them from the kettle I fill them up with boiling sweetened water and then screw the tops on and let them stand Until cold and then screw them up again. I have no trouble with mine and they are very good when I open them.— Household.