All was dark and dismal; no one
in the streets. We went as far as the quays, strolled back and on the
way called at a small cafe, the only inmate of which was a dwarf, as
remarkable looking as Velasquez's _Sebastian de Morra_. The hall porter
at our hotel was waiting our return with anxiety. "It was not safe to be
out at night," he said; "we had gold watches on us and money in our
purses, and knives were sharp." Murray's guide book, we afterwards
found, gave similar warning, without mentioning knives. Sir Nicholas
O'Connor was our Ambassador in Constantinople. He was an Irishman from
County Mayo, and I had a letter of introduction to him from my friend Sir
George Morris. Sir Nicholas invited me to lunch at Therapia, where the
Embassy was in residence in its summer quarters. He was exceedingly kind
and facilitated our sightseeing in the great city during our stay. We
witnessed the Selamlik ceremony of the Sultan's weekly visit for prayers
to the Mosque Hamedieh Jami, which stands adjacent to the grounds of
Yildiz Kiosk. It was worth seeing. There was a great gathering of
military in splendid uniforms and glittering decorations.
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