There was, of course, a time when every garment such a man would have worn would have been of native manufacture, without having been in any feature less complete, less convenient, or less artistic than his present dress. In many points, indeed, there is a distinct loss in the more modern style, especially in the blending of colours, while it is certain that in no point has improvement been made. My friend, for instance, had the addition, common there, of a pair of striped merino socks, thrust into a pair of rubber-soled tennis shoes. Underneath he wore a second pair of socks, and said that in winter he added a third. Above them was not much bare leg, for the pantaloons are cut there so as often to reach right down to the ankles. This is necessitated by the custom of raising the mattresses used for seats on divans, and by sitting at table on European chairs with the legs dangling in the cold. The turban has nothing of the gracefulness of its Moorish counterpart, being often of a dirty-green silk twisted into a rope, and then bound round the head in the most inelegant fashion, sometimes showing the head between the coils; they are not folds. Heads are by no means kept so carefully shaved as in Morocco, and I have seen hair which looked as though only treated with scissors, and that rarely.
The fashion for all connected with the Government to wear European dress, supplemented by the "Fez" (fortunately not the Turkish style), brings[page 325] about most absurd anomalies. This is especially observable in the case of the many very stout individuals who waddle about like ducks in their ungainly breeches. I was glad to find on visiting the brother of the late Bey that he retained the correct costume, though the younger members of his family and all his attendants were in foreign guise. The Bey himself received me in the frock-coat with pleated skirt, favoured by his countrymen the Turks.
The Mohammedan women seen in the streets generally wear an elegant fine silk and wool haïk over a costume culminating in a peaked cap, the face being covered—all but the eyes—by two black handkerchiefs, awful to behold, like the mask of a stage villain. More stylish women wear a larger veil, which they stretch out on either side in front of them with their hands. They seem to think nothing of sitting in a railway carriage opposite a man and chatting gaily with him. I learn from an English lady resident in Tunis that the indoor costume of the women is much that of the Jewesses out of doors—extraordinary indeed. It is not every day that one meets ladies in the street in long white drawers, often tight, and short jackets, black or white, but this is the actual walking dress of the Jewish ladies of Tunis.
[page 326]
XXXIV
TRIPOLI VIEWED FROM MOROCCO
"Every sheep hangs by her own legs."