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IMPERIAL PARLIAMENT.

AN EXTRAORDINARY PEOPLE.

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AN EXTRAORDINARY PEOPLE. ruder the head of the Din of War," the Special Corre- spondent of The Times, writing from Shumla on June 9, says The Turks are certainly an extraordinary people. T will not emWse the<famoiw epithet of Mr. Carlylc, bat t? me they certainly are unknowable. The more one sees in this land the less one understands it. Yesterday I returned here from Varna on my way tc the Danube, where it is thought something is about to happen, and I naturally expected to see some signs of bustle and excitement. The Russians are furiously bombarding certain places, and everybody 'expects that in a few days thousands of souls will fly from human bodies thrashed out like chaff. And what is the attitude of this people? I include Bulgarians and Greeks, for in the matter of stolidity all are nearly on a par. We all know how a Western^ nation would be- have in similar. circumstances. Take the railway Station at Shumla Road for example. It is only 12 miles from Headquarters, six or seven hours from Rustchuk, and three or four from Varna. In any other hands it would be the centre of indescribable activity. Special trains would whisk through it night and day; orderlies would be scampering hither and thither; and I am afraid much bad language would be heard night and day among a crowd of over- worked and flurried officials. Hurry, worry, noise, and bustleâthat is what one has witnessed over and over again in wajr. It belongs to the dread- ful business and, indeed, is, I had till yesterday thought, inseparable from it. What, however, was the actual state of things yesterday during the four hours I waited for the. arrival of a luggage train from Kustchuk ? My servant and I Were the only visible human beings, until the Cir- cassian who stands to attention when a train arrives was discovered in a shady corner curled up asleep. The porters were nowhere to be seen. Bees droned in the hot, vibratory air, swallows twittered their little astonishments at seeing two human beings such fools as to be moving about when they might be at rest, and two or three dogs opened one eye at a time with a look of lazy speculation as to what business could possibly bring people to Shumla Road. After a time the station-master, a most intelligent Pole named Zamorski, returned from an excursion to the neighbouring village, and welcomed me back from Varna. I inquired about the expected train, and Mr. Zamorski very civilly asked by telegraph where it was. From the reply received I found there were still two hours to wait, so I had the horses sent out of the sun, while I accepted an invitation to take tea with the station-master. Would it be possible to find a more peaceful picture than that little parlour in Mr. Zamorski's dwelling-house presented on the very brink of such a history-making as we expect ? As my host sat pouring out the tea, with his chubby little daughter standing on his knee trying to stick a large rose in the indulgent father's hair, it was impossible to realize the devilry of war. Gf course we spoke of the oddity of the situation. My friend has been a great many years in Turkey, but he is still an active man, and was there- fore able to appreciate the almost comic view of our occupation and surroundings. How different from what our friends imaging The station-master at Shumla a.nd the correspondent of The Times at the head-quarters of the Turkish Army quietly gossip- ing over bread and butter is, I respectfully sub- mit, yet another view of the already thousand- faced Eastern Question. To while away the time, after tea, we went into the garden, which is about an acre in extent, and ens been reclaimed from the fertile wilderness around by Mr. Zamorski's own hands. It is a microcosm of what this whole land might, could, and should be. It is laid out in a flower and kitchen garden, the former glorious in its blaze of summer beauty, the latter crammed with every fruit and herb which is good for man. The station-master's family is unable to consume the half of what this acre produces, so the rest is given away to people who are too lazy to produce food for themselves. There is absolutely no market. New-laid eggs are five a penny, chickens twopence apiece, and a fat goose sixpence at Shumla. As one walked atnong apricot trees loaded with fast ripening fruit, and saw grapes, plums, apples, almonds, and cherries in such profusion, one ceuld not help getting indignant at the thought that almost the whole of the boundless wealth of this magnificent country is wasted from sheer idleness and stupidity. Will it be credited that the peasants here, who, insensibly enough, almost all keep poultry, iuvariably. throw the feathers away? Administered by Englishmen, what a ParadLe. would Turkey be The Pravady valley, properly drained, would produce food for millions, while now it scarcely provides for hundreds. The wooded heights arc alive with every tort of game, from quaih to cables, from boars deer to hares. Every man is at liberty to take hL gun and knock down what he can, but, as a rub, the rich are too lazy and the poor too timid to enjoy their privileges. A few men go into the woods for hares and on the lakes for fiw, but it may be generally said that the Turks make no use of their vast and teeming game-preserves. An instance of the slovenly and uncertain government of thL and may be found in the fact that there is a gun ta.x of hundred pkstres a year, but nobody kaowr< anybody <'lie ovt r y+id it. "But what would you do if official were to come and dgjjiand aivcsxsI said to in Ergli&hiuan who had used a. gun for a dozen years. why, I should fird threaten to kick the fellow if he weren't off, and then give him <% baksheesh of ten piastres to get rid of him peaceably." It is a strange land indeed. Not far from the station I saw gome men planting vines, and stopped to inquire why each plant was dipped into a bucket before it was put into the ground and watered. The fellows were very civil, but did not know what it was dene for. We always do it that Way don't you, Effendi, do the same in your country?" I told them we grew no grapes in England, at which they looked mildly astonished at our want of sense. God be with you and &cnd you treaty of grapes men!" "May Ir also ji-easrvs [ you, Effendi, and greatly lengthen your days." The grace, dignity, and honesty of the common Turk one never grows tired of admiring. The Pashas have, at least one virtueâsome of them read The Times. All the appearance of quiet, however, will not do away with the ghastly fact that we really'are in the midst of war.

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