As Richardson and I wandered about the deck to look them over, the women would turn their faces or quickly veil themselves. It was immodest to expose this part of their anatomy to a man and especially to a foreigner. What a strange thing custom is! The women of America go clothed to the limit except in the ballroom, on the stage or in the water. The women of Japan are indifferent as to when or where they disrobe. The women of Turkey hide their faces on the approach of man. I was told that when Milady of Turkey is caught unaware in the bath she makes haste to cover only her face. Some of the faces I chanced to see look better behind their black curtains. It might be wise to introduce such facial disguises in America. I know instances where they would serve a laudable purpose.
Life on the Virginia was getting monotonous. The food had taken a slump from its fairly good beginning. We had little to do and time began to drag. We had read all the books on board. The steamer didn't remain at the various ports long enough for us to acquaint ourselves with the towns and cities—still less with the commerce and shipping interests of the country. We looked forward to Constantinople and some diversity.
We only remained at Dedeagatch a sufficient time to dump the human cargo of Turks, and then set out for Constantinople. We sailed through the Hellespont, passed the small town of Dardanelles, steamed across the Sea of Marmora and entered the Bosporus.
GREECE AND ROME FROM A THIRD-CLASS COACH
Two weeks of the Greek freighter were enough, and Richardson and I rejoiced to see the picturesque sky-line of Constantinople come into view. We made short work of getting ashore as soon as the anchor was dropped and in a few minutes were on a local steamer going up the Bosporus on our way to Roberts College, the famous American institution of the Near East, where we were to be the guests of friends of Richardson's. Here we received a real welcome and once more began living the civilised life—as true Americans can when given a chance.
It had now been many months since we had left Manila and a job; and our exchequers, in spite of the economical methods of travel we had pursued, were being slowly depleted. However, as near as can be recalled, we had about two hundred and fifty dollars each and, although this sum is a mere joke when compared with the distance we were from home, still a man is not broke until he is broke. We concluded that if it was possible we would get jobs in Constantinople and at least break even financially during our stay there.
Looking for work in Europe is a very different thing from such a quest in the Orient. Indeed, we soon found that as a whole travel in Europe was far different and in many ways less interesting than in the Far East. Europe is the beaten path where the inhabitants of each country are organised and lie in wait to separate the American tourist from his coin. The paths are all cut and dried and everything is carried on along the lines of the personally-conducted sight-seeing tours. Jobs are scarce, and the few obtainable pay very small wages. The thrifty native can do the work as well as, and oftentimes better than, the transient American. The conventional character of European travel strips this pastime of two-thirds of its charm. Experiences, which one is daily encountering in the more or less primitive countries of the Orient, are not to be found in Europe. Civilisation, with its comforts and conveniences, eliminates the possibilities of adventure and the traveller, whether rich or poor, usually deteriorates into a bored and bleary-eyed sight-seeing machine.