do the same in their turn, and so the game goes on. There must be no confusion or unfairness, and everyone must play his game 'bravely,' as they call it. The sticks must not wilfully be aimed at the heads of the enemy. The players are allowed to do anything to avoid being hit by the sticks, and in order to avoid it they play risky tricks, such as bending from the saddle down towards the neck and belly of their galloping horses. Anyone who has thrown away all his sticks is free to pick up any stick lying on the ground, with a pole which has a hook at the end, or by dexterously bending down and snatching it up with his hand as the horse gallops by. Sometimes, of course, the horses of two opponents collide, and then most likely both men fall in a heap, and very often under the horses. The most exciting way to play the game is that adopted by a man whose horse is unusually swift After throwing his stick at the enemy he does not hurry back towards his own line, but dashes away toward the open country and rides as fast as he can. Some of the enemy pursue him far away down the valley, until he is either caught up or escapes. During this last visit the game was no longer played, because some serious accidents had happened and lives had been lost, and the kind Government accordingly prohibited it Seeing all these prohibitions, I was perhaps rather injudicious and outspoken in criticising the Government. So a relation of mine reminded me of the old proverb which runs, "A man's safety lies in holding his tongue." He, moreover, warned me that times were now different, and added, "If you are not careful you will go...." I understood what he alluded to. He meant, of course, that I should be sent into exile or thrown into prison if I went on criticising the existing regime. I did not stay long in Asia Minor during this last visit, and after settling my affairs I hastened my packing and returned to Constantinople, where it is, comparatively speaking, easier to find means of getting out of Turkey. With us there is filial obligation for a man of right feeling, no matter how old he may be, to secure his parents' consent to any venture on which he is going to embark. So, guardedly and in confidence, I broke to my mother my intention of going to the land of _Ingliz_. The poor Mussulman lady was terrified at the idea, and began to put to me such questions as--Who would look after me? Who would take care of me in case of my falling ill in that distant strange land? And if I died there, should I desire to be buried according to the rites of the infidels? It perhaps never occurred to her that there was a danger far greater than those she instanced--the danger of falling into destitution in a foreign land. This was the possibility which I dreaded most, as I knew that anyone who left the Sultan's dominions without his august permission could not depend for his living upon any resources he might have at home. So, while I was making ready to return to Constantinople, my