It is impossible to sleep late in Salonika. Soon after dawn children
possess the town--bootblacks, paper-sellers, perambulating drapers'
shops; all children crying their wares noisily. The only commodity that
the children don't peddle is undertaken by mules laden with glass
fronted cases hanging on each side and which are filled with meat.
We breakfasted in the street, revelling in the early morning and shooing
away the children, who never gave us a moment's grace. In self-defence
we had our boots blacked, for the ambulating bootblack molests no longer
the owner of a well-polished pair of boots. It is queer to walk about in
a town where one-third of the population is only pecuniarily interested
in the momentary appearance of feet and never look at a face, like the
man with the muckrake with eyes glued on life as it is led two inches
from the ground.
When we had finished searching for disinfectors and dentists we
wandered up the hill through the romantic streets. Jan sketched busily,
but toothache had rather sapped Jo's industry, and she generally found
some large stone to sit on, whence to contemplate.
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