Let us steal away through the mysterious, fascinating streets and byways that lead us, with a hundred puzzling turns, back to our peaceful villa.
It is needless to say that our neighbors have not called upon us, nor indicated by any sign that they are conscious of our presence in this aristocratic precinct. Walls from fifteen to twenty feet in height surround our garden, cutting us off completely from the public streets and from the garden of our next-door neighbors. Our curiosity concerning that adjoining garden and the family that dwelt therein increased from day to day. Apparently an interminable picnic is in progress there; for three days past we have been hearing the shouts of children at play and the strange shrill cry peculiar to Moorish women, a piercing tremolo, to which they give utterance in token of joyfulness. It might be called the "college yell" of these Oriental wives—pupils in the school of submission.
OUR VILLA FROM THE STREET
Finally we can resist no longer; we must learn what is passing there on the other side of that high wall. But how? We dare not show our heads for fear some jealous Moor may smash them. We resolve to make a cat's-paw of the faithful camera to snatch curiosity-satisfying chestnuts out of the fire of Moslem exclusiveness. We climb a ladder, lift the camera, upside-down, above the wall, take aim by looking up into the inverted finder, fire, and withdraw precipitately. The result was worth the risk and effort. The plate revealed a scene from private family life in Fez,—the picture of a rich Moor's wives and children attended by black slaves, taking their ease in the absolute seclusion of their garden, brewing and drinking Moorish tea, as they sit on a tiled platform that surrounds a bathing tank. The foreshortening of the figures may be at first a trifle puzzling; remember we are looking, or, rather, the camera is looking down upon the group from over a garden-wall that is not less than twenty feet in height.
A STOLEN PEEP OVER GARDEN WALL
DISCOVERED!
