The Bulgarian remedy for this pest, although simpler in form, can hardly be more effective. It consists of a few of these insects being caught on the 1st of March, inclosed in a reed, and taken to the butcher, their credentials being couched in the following terms: “Here is flesh, here is blood for you to deal with; take them away and give us something better in exchange.”

Another means of getting rid of serpents, venomous insects, and vermin, is made use of by the Bulgarians on the last day of February; it consists in beating copper pans all over the houses, calling out at the same time, “Out with you, serpents, scorpions, fleas, bugs, and flies!” A pan held by a pair of tongs is put outside in the court-yard.

Mohammedans execrate the Christian faith, and Christians the Mohammedan faith, but both in cases of incurable diseases have recourse reciprocally to each other’s Ἁγιάσματα (holy wells), the sacred tombs of the saints, and to the prayers of the clergy of both creeds. I have often seen sick Turkish children taken to the Armenian church at Broussa, and heard prayers read over them by Armenian priests. I have also seen Christian children taken to Hodjas to be blown and spat upon, or have the visitation of intermittent fever tied up by means of a piece of cotton-thread twisted round the wrist.

I happened one day to be making some purchases from a Jew pedler at the gate, when a Turkish woman passing by came quietly up to the old man, and before he could prevent her, made a snatch at his beard and pulled out a handful. The unfortunate Hebrew, smarting under the pain and insult, asked the reason for her cruelty. “Oh,” she answered, “I did not intend to insult or hurt you; but my daughter has had fever for a long time, and as all remedies that I have tried have proved vain, I was assured that some hairs snatched from the beard of an Israelite and used to fumigate her with would be sure to cure her.” She then tied up her stolen treasure in her handkerchief and walked away with it.

Dreams play a great part in Eastern life. The young girl, early taught to believe in them, hopes to perceive in these transient visions a glimpse of the realities that are awaiting her; the married woman seeks, in their shadowy illusions, the promise of the continuation of the poetry of life, and firmly believes in the coming realities they are supposed to foreshadow; while the ambitious man tries to expound them in favor of his hopes and prospects, often guiding his actions by some indistinct suggestion they convey to his mind. When a Greek woman has had a remarkable dream, she will consult her Ὄνειρο, or book of dreams, the Bulgarian will gossip over it with her neighbors, often accepting their interpretation, and the Turkish woman will do the same, but if not satisfied with the explanations given, she has the alternative of consulting the Hodja, who will find a better meaning in his “learned books.”

A projected contract of marriage is often arrested by the unfavorable interpretation of a dream, or a marriage that had not previously been imagined is entered into under the same influence. The vocations of a man may be changed by a dream, and the destinies of a family trusted to its guidance. Dreams are often used as a medium of discovering truth, and are efficacious instruments in the hands of those who know how to use them. A Turkish servant was suspected by one of my friends of having stolen a sum of money which she missed from her safe. The lady called in the woman and said to her, “Nasibeh, I dreamed last night that while I was out the other day you walked into my room and took the money that was there.” The culprit, taken by surprise, exclaimed, with too much earnestness, “I did not take it!” My friend responded, “I have not accused you of having taken it, but since you deny it so earnestly you are open to suspicion. If the money is not there you must have taken it.” After a little pressure the woman confessed that, tempted by the Sheytan, she had done so, but that she would give it back, promising to be honest for the future. She was retained in her situation, and, be it said to her credit, was never again found guilty.

The most trivial circumstances connected with the birth of a child are considered of good or bad omen according to the interpretation given to them. Trifling accidents happening on a wedding-day have also their signification; so have the breaking of a looking-glass, the accidental spilling of oil, sweeping the house after the master has left it to go on a journey, the meeting of a funeral or of a priest, a hare crossing the path, and a thousand other every-day occurrences. The Turks, after cutting their nails, will never throw away the parings, but carefully keep them in cracks of the walls or the boards, where they are not likely to be scattered about. This is based on the idea that at the resurrection day they will be needed for the formation of new ones.

Sultan Mahmoud, the grandfather of the present Sultan, was in his bath when the news of the birth of his son Abdul-Aziz was announced to him. The tidings are said to have made him look sad and thoughtful; he heaved a deep sigh, and expressed his regret at having been informed of the event when divested of his clothing, saying it was a bad omen, and his son was likely to leave his people as naked as the news of his birth had found his father. Unfortunately for the nation, this prediction was but too exactly realized.

Predictions have great influence over the Mohammedan mind. On the eve of great battles, or on the occasion of any great political change, prophecies are consulted and astrologers appealed to, to prognosticate the issue of the coming event. Many of these individuals have paid with their heads for the non-fulfilment of their prophecies.

The last prediction in circulation at Stamboul, uttered since the death of Sultan Abdul-Aziz, says that seven sultans must succeed each other, most of them dying violent deaths, before the Empire will be secure.