My attention being attracted to the rosy, happy-looking little slave-girl who stood near me, with her chubby arms crossed before her, her large pink trowsers completely concealing her naked feet, and her long blue antery richly trimmed with yellow floss-silk fringe, lying upon the carpet; he beckoned her to him, called her a good child, who had wit enough to anticipate his wants, and affection enough to supply them without bidding, and bade me remark the henna with which the tips of her toes and fingers were deeply tinged. She was, he said, a Georgian, whom he had purchased of her mother for six thousand piastres; she had already been in his house two years; and he hoped some day to give her a marriage portion, and to see her comfortably established, as she was a good girl, and he was much attached to her. The other, he added, was also obedient and willing, but she did not possess the vivacity and quickness of his little favourite—she had cost him seven thousand piastres, as she was a year older, and considerably stronger than her companion; and was a Circassian, brought to Constantinople, and sold, at her own request, by her parents. When I remembered that these children were slaves, I felt inclined to pity them—when the very price which had been paid for them was stated to me, a sickness crept over my heart—but, as I looked upon the pleased and happy countenances of the two little girls, and remembered that slavery, in Turkey at least, is a mere name, and in nine cases out of ten even voluntary, I felt that here my commiseration would be misplaced. Soon after we had taken leave of the gentle and gracious old Effendi, a basket of delicious fruit was sent into the harem for our use, with an injunction that we should dine alone, lest we should be inconvenienced by the national habits. An embroidered carpet was consequently spread, beside which were placed a couple of cushions; and the dinner tray, such as I have before described it, was lifted into the apartment of the younger lady, at her earnest request: nine slaves, forming a line from the table to the door, waited upon us: and we partook of an endless variety of boiled, stewed, roasted, and baked—delicious cinnamon soup—chickens, farcied with fine herbs and olives—anchovy cakes—lemon-tinted pillauf—chopped meat and spiced rice, rolled in preserved vine-leaves-the most delicate of pastry, and the most costly of conserves. Many-coloured sherbets, and lemonade, completed the repast; and when I laid aside my gold-embroidered napkin, and wiped the rose-water from my hands, I could but marvel at the hyper-fastidiousness of those travellers who have affected to quarrel with the Turkish kitchen; or infer that they had only “assisted” at the tables of hotels and eating-houses.