uilding is
dedicated.

We next looked into the school, a tumble down place, but clean and
tidy, and with about forty bright, neatly dressed children. Stephen
was delighted at the sight and beamed on them all, and yelled and
laughed, gave a little chap a sum of multiplication on the blackboard
which he did correctly, then he had to show him his new and more
complicated way of getting the answer. This new method is very
peculiar, but the two answers were identical, to the astonishment of
the dominie, who was apparently able to follow the steps. "Now," says
Stephen, "I want all the children to say 'Venezelos good' and to give
him a cheer." This was done most heartily. "Now, say Gunariz bad."
This time, I think, they did not understand what was wanted of them;
however, with a little persuasion from Stephen and the dominie they
got through it in a mild way. There was something refreshing and
homelike in our visit to the kiddies. They all jumped smartly to their
feet as we were leaving. The dominie accompanied us up the street,
where we admired the trees laden with clusters of beautiful
red-cheeked pomegranates. I had never seen this fruit growing before,
but here every garden was full of it.

We next stopped to watch a woman spinning inside a doorway, with an
instrument like a fiddle bow--either that or she was carding the wool
with it, this being in fluffy billows about her on the floor. She
asked us to enter--all by signs of course. We had a look round her
kitchen which was very clean, the fireplace and articles about being
mostly not unlike what one could see at home. In a corner was a broad,
low divan on which she threw some cushions, on which we sat with our
legs tucked under us, which we supposed was the correct fashion, and
what was expected of us. She next got us two small glasses of brandy,
a saucer with a few small biscuits and two tumblers of water, and
placed all neatly on a small table with a cover. The brandy was strong
and scented, and not much to my liking; however, I drank it and felt
grateful to this good soul for her hospitality and showing us a
little Grecian home life. At one side of the room there was a part
shut off by a curtain which we concluded was a box-bed, but Stephen
had a look in and found it full of shelves with blankets and articles
of clothing. "But where do the devils sleep?" Stephen kept on saying,
and by resting his head on his hands and snoring he tried to get the
woman to understand