back out of their salaries; for instance, the mulazim of zaptiehs would have to take half a dozen copies, the mutaserif a dozen, etc.; if from any unforeseen cause the current expenses are found to be more than the income, a few additional copies are saddled on each ‘subscriber.’  “Before leaving Sivas, I arrive at the conclusion that Hallil Eifaat Pasha knows just about what’s what; while administering the affairs of the Sivas vilayet in a manner that has gained him the good-will of the population at large, he hasn’t neglected his opportunities at the Constantinople end of the rope; more than one beautiful Circassian girl has, I am told, been forwarded to the Sultan’s harem by the enterprising and sagacious Sivas Vali; consequently he holds “trump cards,” so to speak, both in the province and the palace.  Promptly at the hour appointed the squad of zaptiehs arrive; Mr. Weakley mounts his servant on a prancing Arab charger, and orders him to manoeuvre the horse so as to clear the way in front; the zaptiehs commence their flogging, and in the middle of the cleared space I trundle the bicycle.  While making our way through the streets, Mr. Hubbard, who, with the ladies, has just returned to the city, is encountered on the way to invite Mr. Weakley and myself to supper; as he pushes his way through the crowd and reaches my side, he pronounces it the worst rabble he ever saw in the streets of Sivas, and he has been stationed here over twelve years.  Once clear of the streets, I mount and soon outdistance the crowd, though still followed by a number of horsemen.  Part way out we wait for the Vali’s state carriage, in which he daily rides between the city and his residence.  “While waiting, a terrific squall of wind and dust comes howling from the direction we are going, and while it is still blowing great guns, the Vali and his mounted escort arrive.  His Excellency alights and examines the Columbia with much interest, and then requests me to ride on immediately in advance of the carriage.  The grade is slightly against me, and the whistling wind seems to be shrieking a defiance; but by superhuman efforts, almost, I pedal ahead and manage to keep in front of his horses all the way.  The distance from Sivas is four and a quarter miles by the cyclometer; this is the first time it has ever been measured.  We are ushered into a room quite elegantly furnished, and light refreshments served.  Observing my partiality for vishner-su, the Governor kindly offers me a flask of the syrup to take along; which I am, however, reluctantly compelled to refuse, owing to my inability to carry it.  Here, also, we meet Djaved Bey, the Pasha’s son, who has recently returned from Constantinople, and who says he saw me riding at Prinkipo.  The Vali gets down on his hands and knees to examine the route of my journey on a map of the world which he spreads out on the carpet; he grows quite enthusiastic, and exclaims, “Wonderful.” " Very wonderful!” says Djaved Bey; “when you get back to America they will-build you a statue.”  Mr. Hubbard has mounted a horse and followed us to the Vali’s residence, and at the approach of dusk we take our departure; the wind is favorable for the return, as is also the gradient; ere my two friends have unhitched their horses, I mount and am scudding before the gale half a mile away.