nd had
their being around us.

Tangier is a walled and fortified town; but Vauban had no hand in the
fortifications, and it is my private opinion the walls would go down
before a peremptory horn-blast quicker than those of Jericho. It swarms
with a motley population much addicted to differences in shades of
complexion. The Tangerines exhaust the primitive colours and most of the
others in their features. There are lime-white Tangerines, copper and
canary-countenanced Tangerines, olive and beetroot-hued Tangerines,
Tangerines of the tint of the bottom of pots, Tangerines of every--no, I
beg to recall that, there are no well-defined blue or green Tangerines;
at least, none that came under my ken. The town is as old as the hills
and courageously uncivilized. There is no gasholder, no railway-station,
no theatre, no cab-stand, no daily paper, and no drainage board to go
into controversy over. It is unconsciously backward, near as it is to
Europe--a rifle-shot off the track of ships plying from the West to the
ports of the Mediterranean. It preserves its Eastern aroma with a fine
Moslem conservatism. Its ramparts of crumbling masonry are ornamented
with ancient cannon useless for offence, useless for defence. There is
said to be a saluting-battery; but the legend runs that the gunners
require a week's clear notice before firing a salute.[B] There is no
locomotion save in boxes and on the backs of quadrupeds; and quadrupeds
of the inferior order are usually, when overtaken by death, thrown in
the streets to decompose. But if the irregularity of the town would
galvanize the late Monsieur Haussmann in his grave, its situation would
satisfy the most exacting Yankee engineer. It is huddled in a sheltered
nest on the fringe of a land of milk and honey; it has the advantage of
a spread of level beach, and rejoices in the balmiest of climes.

The streets are so narrow that you could light a cigar from your
neighbour's window on the opposite side; but there is no window, neither
at this side nor the other. A hole with a grating is the only window
that is visible. Moors are jealous, and to be able to appreciate their
household comforts you must first succeed in turning their houses inside
out. Those who have dived into the recesses say the fruit is as savoury
as the husk is repulsive. The windowless houses with their backs
grudgingly turned to the thoroughfares are low for the most part, and
the thoroughfares are--oh! so crooked--zig