I hear that in the American College at Broussa a Turkish woman has been appointed to teach geography and history, a concession one hopes will soon be generally adopted. * * * * * Rauf Bey had told me, on board the _Agamemnon_, what had been said to Admiral Calthorpe when the Armistice was signed: “We are here to end the terrible bloodshed of so many years. We accept these terms because we know that the great English nation and the Allies will keep their words.” Then, to his own officers: “Is it not true, gentlemen, England always keeps her word?” and they all answered, “Yes.” But we know what happened! * * * * * So much has been written about his unfortunate reception in London in 1922, that Fethi Bey, the Minister of the Interior, is well known to us. Seeing that everyone is given a courteous hearing in Turkish Ministries, one feels this unnecessary discourtesy the more. And Fethi Bey, like Mustapha Kemal Pasha and Rauf Bey, was an ardent admirer of England, cured for ever by the war of any affection for Germany. As an Army officer, for two years military attaché in Paris, secretary to the Committee of Union and Progress in Sofia, and Minister of the Interior in Izzet Pasha’s Cabinet, Fethi Bey has had a varied and useful career. During his stay in Sofia, Mustapha Kemal was his military attaché, and they were both staff captains at Salonika. It was as a prisoner in Malta that he learnt the fluent English he had so little occasion to speak in London. FETHI BEY, MINISTER OF THE INTERIOR OF NEW TURKEY. No picture of Angora could be complete without a photo of Fethi Bey. As this has not arrived in time, we leave his place empty, as one leaves the place of the absent friend at the festive board—unfilled. He is very observant and far-seeing, undemonstrative, and, despite his charming smile, bitingly sarcastic; not, perhaps, quite so daring as Rauf Bey, but more level-headed. In a country devastated from end to end, and lacking in every necessity, he has shown marvellous skill as an organiser. Very early each morning he leaves his simple villa at Tchan-Kaya for the tiny primitive office in which he “handles” a constant stream of callers, busy about every variety of concerns, with an almost American speed. After a hasty lunch he goes to the Assembly, and finally rides home, often through many inches of snow, in which no car or carriage could make its way. The last of the “three great men” of the Assembly, Ismet Pasha, is well known and respected in Europe for his titanic duel with Lord Curzon.