After a good rest, how the blood danced through every part of his body! Tired! It did not seem as though he could ever be tired again in his life. He was ready for any amount of walking and sightseeing. "Father," he said, as they left the building and turned into one of the busiest streets, "I think a bath is one of the pleasantest things in the whole world." "It almost makes a new man out of an old one," answered the serious Turk. He never called himself a Turk, however. He would feel insulted to hear us speak of him in that manner. He would say, "I am an Osmanli, that is, a subject of the empire founded by Osman." Osman, the founder of the empire, is also called Otman, so the subjects are sometimes spoken of as Ottomans, and their country as the Ottoman Empire. Now let us go back to our little Osman and his father. "See that poor beggar," whispered the little boy. "May I give him a coin, papa?" It was a sickly-looking old man who filled Osman's heart with pity. He was very dirty, and his clothes were torn and ragged, although they were gay with bright colours. As he leaned against the side of a fountain, he made a picture you would like to paint. He kept crying, "Baksheesh, baksheesh," to the passers-by. What a beautiful fountain it was! It had a wide roof, giving a pleasant shade. There were gilded gratings all around it, worked in lovely patterns,--roses and honeysuckles and trailing vines. Brass drinking-cups, hanging around the sides, seemed to say, "Come, thirsty traveller, come and drink." What a fluttering and cooing there was over the roof. At least a hundred pigeons were flying about, fearless and happy. No one would harm them, not even the ragged street boys who were playing about the fountain and ready for any mischief. After Osman had given a silver coin to the beggar, his father pointed to the fountain, and said, "Look, my child, at the beautiful pattern of the grating." "How pretty the gilded flowers are," answered Osman. "I love to see them. But, papa, there are ever so many fountains in our city. Nearly half of them are as pretty as this one. I believe there is hardly a street without one." "I knew a very good man who died a few months ago. He left his money to be used in building a fountain. It was a kind deed. Don't you think so?" "Yes, indeed, papa. There are always people and animals who are thirsty. It is a comfort to have fresh water at hand, especially if it is a warm day." [Illustration: "THROUGH THE CROWD OF BUSY PEOPLE."] As Osman was speaking, he heard a sound of music. Looking down the street, he saw two gipsies coming toward him. The man was playing on a bagpipe, and leading a tame bear. The woman was dressed in bright colours. She was beating a tambourine. "Isn't it pretty music, papa? Oh, do look at the bear," cried Osman. "He is doing some tricks."