Other pity-exciting scenes besides the patient little water-carrying donkeys are not likely to be wanting on the streets of an Asiatic city; one case I notice merits particular mention.  A youth with both arms amputated at the shoulder, having not so much as the stump of an arm, is riding a donkey, and persuading the unwilling animal along quite briskly — with a stick.  All Christendom could never guess how a person thus afflicted could possibly wield a stick so as to make any impression upon a donkey; but this ingenious person holds it quite handily between his chin and right shoulder, and from constant practice has acquired the ability to visit his long-eared steed with quite vigorous thwacks.

Near noon we repair to the government house to pay a visit to Sirra Pasha, the Vali or governor of the vilayet, who, having heard of my arrival, has expressed a wish to have us call on him.  We happen to arrive while he is busily engaged with an important legal decision, but upon our being announced he begs us to wait a few minutes, promising to hurry through with the business.  We are then requested to enter an adjoining apartment, where we find the Mayor, the Cadi, the Secretary of State, the Chief of the Angora zaptiehs, and several other functionaries, signing documents, affixing seals, and otherwise variously occupied.  At our entrance, documents, pens, seals, and everything are relegated to temporary oblivion, coffee and cigarettes are produced, and the journey dunianin -athrafana (around the world) I am making with the wonderful araba becomes the all-absorbing subject.  These wise men of state entertain queer, Asiatic notions concerning the probable object of my journey; they cannot bring themselves to believe it possible that I am performing so great a journey “merely as the Outing correspondent;” they think it more probable, they say, that my real incentive is to “spite an enemy” — that, having quarrelled with another wheelman about our comparative skill as riders, I am wheeling entirely around the globe in order to prove my superiority, and at the same time leave no opportunity for my hated rival to perform a greater feat — Asiatic reasoning, sure enough.  Reasoning thus, and commenting in this wise among themselves, their curiosity becomes worked up to the highest possible pitch, and they commence plying Mr. Binns with questions concerning the mechanism and general appearance of the bicycle.  To facilitate Mr. Binns in his task of elucidation, I produce from my inner coat-pocket a set of the earlier sketches illustrating the tour across America, and for the next few minutes the set of sketches are of more importance than all the State documents in the room.  Curiously enough, the sketch entitled “A Fair Young Mormon " attracts more attention than any of the others.  The Mayor is Suleiman Effendi, the same gentleman mentioned at some length by Colonel Burnaby in his “On Horseback Through Asia Minor,” and one of his first questions is whether I am acquainted