Suma told us they wore the
costume of the _haute bourgeoisie_, and probably the girl had been taken
to see her future mother-in-law.
The next vision that met our eyes was the doctor in his best clothes,
frock-coat, white spats, gloves, and a minute pork-pie cap perched on
the top of his spherical countenance.
"In Scutari it is necessary that I should be _en tenue_," was his
explanation.
Suma parted with us, promising to take us to the bazaar the next day,
and we spent the afternoon sketching and avoiding a dumb idiot who tried
to amuse us by standing on his head in front of whatever object we chose
to sketch, and at intervals thrust into our hands a letter which he
thought was a money producing talisman. It said in English, "Kick this
chap if he bothers you."
There are other traces of the English soldiery here. Little children
with outstretched hands flock round, saying in coaxing tones "Garn," or
"Git away you," under the impression that they are saying "please."
At a street corner we saw a professional beggar, a shattered man of
drooping misery, his rags vieing with the colour of the road.
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