The “Zauia” of Sid bel Abbas forms a sort of almshouses, and food and money are distributed there to the poor. An entire quarter of the city—the extreme north-west—belongs to the _zauia_, and it owns enormous tracts of palm-groves and agricultural land in the surrounding plain. These possessions have been offerings from the faithful, or bequests at death, and in some cases purchases made with the constant flow of money that pours into the coffers of the mosque. Another almost equally holy spot is the shrine of Mulai Abdul Aziz, which lies either in or just on the borders of the “Medina” quarter. A very handsome building covers the tomb, like that of the rival saint, gorgeously decorated, and full of lamps and candlesticks of precious metals. But of all the treasures stored in these sanctuaries, clocks are the most numerous. When this invention began to penetrate into Morocco—that is to say, in comparatively late years—they were naturally looked upon as the most valuable and wonderful things, and a fashion promptly set in to bestow them upon the ashes of the dead saints. Every one who could afford it gave a clock, and often in talking of local saints I have heard Moors say, “Ah! he was a saint indeed, God’s mercy upon him; and there are four clocks in his tomb!” It is said that the burial-place of Mulai Idris at Fez presents a bewildering scene of clocks, great and small, half going, and all wrong. I myself have had opportunities of visiting one or two tombs in Morocco, and have listened, bewildered, to the ticking of fifty or sixty of these much-reverenced presents. Most seem to be tall “grandfather” clocks, made in England, and dating from about the end of the last century. Some are remarkably fine, with silver dials, showing the quarters of the moon, &c. Even to-day the natives adore the great, loud, ticking horrors manufactured for the native market in Algeria—monstrosities of gaudy decoration and painted wood—and no good house is considered complete without one or more. I have dined in houses at Fez where there have been six or seven in one room. [Illustration: THE SÔK JUMMA-EL-FANAR, THE PRINCIPAL PLACE IN MOROCCO CITY.] None of the other mosques of Marakesh calls for much remark, though those of Ibn Yusuf, El Mansur, and El Muiz are large, the former possessing a very handsome, though more modern, minaret, rich in green tiles. As is customary all through Morocco, no Christians are allowed to enter the sanctuaries, and even whole districts, _zauias_, are sacred. One or two streets near the tomb of Mulai Abdul Aziz are crossed with chains, marking the boundary of town and saintly property, and within these limits even the assassin is safe from arrest, for they answer the purpose of marking the boundary of the refuge. The result is that all the _zauias_ are full of refugees of all classes, from political prisoners to the pilferer of the stalls in the markets.