EE THESE JOLLY DOGS GOBBLE THE
TURKISH TIDBITS AFTER THE SUN HAS SET]

Limited space forbids the further description of things that are
wonderful and interesting, but a few words must be said in regard to
facts we would rather not think about. The population is about
1,125,000, and most visitors think there is a mangy, flea-bitten dog
for each inhabitant; but the official dog census has placed the canine
population at about 125,000. The dogs of Stamboul and Constantinople
are a necessity and a book might be written about them alone, as they
have ruled these cities from a sanitary point of view for over a
thousand years. If they did not set out at night and partially clean
up the town, Heaven only knows what it would be like! Their sway is
undisputed, and woe betide him who either hurts or kills them--he is a
marked man, not only by the Moslems but by the followers of other
religions. They have no distinctive owners and just live by their
wits, which are keen to an advanced degree; they have rules of the road
of their own making, and the luckless cur that breaks them is put out
of business in the twinkling of an eye. No one likes them, but they
are a thoroughly protected nuisance, for that protection means life to
the people. Without their services as devourers the population would
die like flies, from epidemics and pestilence. All attempts at doing
away with the dogs have resulted in riots and bloodshed: when Mehemet
II. rounded them up and exiled them to an island, a great epidemic
immediately set in and the rioters compelled the Sultan at the point of
the sword to bring them back again. A later attempt was made by an
Ottoman chief-of-police to deport these canine "white wings" to Asia
Minor: he threw them overboard when out of sight of land, and when this
was made public the mob literally tore him limb from limb. So it does
not pay to monkey with the Sultan's pets in the home of their nativity.
Although no one would suspect it, they have a high order of
intelligence and an acute instinct for local government. By some
unwritten law they divide the town into districts with sharply defined
boundaries invisible to the human eye, yet plainly apparent to the
animal. If an intruder crosses this line he is sorry for it before he
reaches his first bone. The neighboring dogs pounce on him from all
directions, biting his legs, tail and ears, but stopping short when
they in turn reach the line, for fear they may also