by midday of the 16th of June, having completed our journey over the mountains, I shall never forget that cart drive, the drivers were nearly always half asleep and the ponies galloped down the inclines at a breakneck speed, one never knew when we were not going to crash into the cart in front, or dissappear entirely over the precipice by the roadside. On our arrival we at once entrained and soon were on our way to KALEK BURGAS which we reached on the evening of the 16th. During this train journey we travelled through a fertile valley, and the meadows and willow-bordered streams reminded me, for a time, of England; in the midst of my reverie, however, we pulled up suddenly at a wayside station and found ourselves amongst an odouriferous crowd of Bashi-Bazuks in their many- coloured patch work clothing.
The Turkish peasant is usually a farmer and keeps a fair herd of cattle and a few badly bred horses for farm work; he usually goes in for market gardening, growing fruit such as cherries, apricots, plums, apples, pears, currents, quince, and the common or garden vegetables of Europe. There is no method in their fruit farming – they never appear to specialize in one particular fruit, do not understand grafting or pruning, and have no proper system of manur