There are nearly a million inhabitants in Constantinople, and a more disreuptable and miscellaneous combination has never been herded together in one spot since history began. At least, that is my opinion. Moslems, Greeks, Armenians, Bulgars, and assorted Asiatics mingle with a meager handful of foreigners. The great bulk are ignorant and fanatical, easily aroused by their priests to any form of atrocity, and are generally useless. Most of the population are poor, and all are lazy. The official figures do not include the dogs, which are roughly estimated at about a million. They are a sad lot, and the most dismal creatures in the world. As far as I could make out, their diet consists of a guttural abuse and ashes. The billy-goat of the comic weekly fame, with his menu of tin cans and old rags, is an epicure compared with the Constantinople dog. The home of this animal is everywhere, and in the winter one sees fifteen and twenty sleeping, piled the one on top of another in a heap three feet deep to keep warm. The day is devoted to slumber, and the consumption of rubbish, while the night is given over exclusively to vocal activities. As soon as night comes and people are just going to sleep, the dogs wake up and in sad, disconsolate tones, sitting on their haunches, with eyes closed and noses pointed heavenwards, they proceed to unburden themselves of all their troubles. The hours of performance are from 11 P. M. until daylight. They all suffer from the mange and acute melancholia. The guide book says that their numbers have materially diminished, but I was unable to trace any symptom of race suicide during my brief sojourn in town. The Turkish Christians, Greeks, Armenians, and Bulgarians have nothing whatever in common. They hate one another as much as all loathe the Turks, which, it may be added, is in the superlative degree. There are a few cultivated and wealthy people of these races, but the bulk of them are as poverty stricken and illiterate as are the Moslems themselves. From eight to a dozen languages are spoken in the streets, and five or six appear in the advertisements and on the shop fronts. These races have nothing to bring them together, no relations except trade with one another. Everybody lives in perpetual horror and dread of all the other elements in the community; there is no common patriotism or civic feeling. However, as I am not writing a guide to ethnological conditions in Constantinople, I will return to my own immediate troubles, and give over the discussion of those of the people who compose the population, for my purpose is to write one book, and not a dozen.