of the carrying business of the city is done by hamals, a class of sturdy-limbed men, who, I am told, are mostly Armenians.  They wear a sort of pack-saddle, and carry loads the mere sight of which makes the average Westerner groan.  For carrying such trifles as crates and hogsheads of crockery and glass-ware, and puncheons of rum, four hamals join strength at the ends of two stout poles.  Scarcely less marvellous than the weights they carry is the apparent ease with which they balance tremendous loads, piled high up above them, it being no infrequent sight to see a stalwart hamal with a veritable Saratoga trunk, for size, on his back, with several smaller trunks and valises piled above it, making his way down Step Street, which is as much as many pedestrians can do to descend without carrying anything.  One of these hamals, meandering along the street with six or seven hundred pounds of merchandise on his back, has the legal right — to say nothing of the evident moral right — to knock over any unloaded citizen who too tardily yields the way.  From observations made on the spot, one cannot help thinking that there is no law in any country to be compared to this one, for simon-pure justice between man and man.  These are most assuredly the strongest-backed and hardest working men I have seen anywhere.  They are remarkably trustworthy and sure-footed, and their chief ambition, I am told, is to save sufficient money to return to the mountains and valleys of their native Armenia, where most of them have wives patiently awaiting their coming, and purchase a piece of land upon which to spend their declining years in ease and independence.

Far different is the daily lot of another habitue of the streets of this busy capital — large, pugnacious-looking rams, that occupy pretty much the same position in Turkish sporting circles that thoroughbred bull-dogs do in England, being kept by young Turks solely on account of their combative propensities and the facilities thereby afforded for gambling on the prowess of their favorite animals.  At all hours of the day and evening the Constantinople sport may be met on the streets leading his woolly pet tenderly with a string, often carrying something in his hand to coax the ram along.  The wool of these animals is frequently clipped to give them a fanciful aspect, the favorite clip being to produce a lion-like appearance, and they are always carefully guarded against the fell influence of the “evil eye” by a circlet of blue beads and pendent charms suspended from the neck.  This latter precautionary measure is not confined to these hard-headed contestants for the championship of Galata, Pera, and Stamboul, however, but grace the necks of a goodly proportion of all animals met on the streets, notably the saddle-ponies, whose services are offered on certain streetcorners to the public.