ing a confused alternation of hill and dale, it consists of three well-defined fan-shaped tablelands, rising one above the other like the steps of a gigantic staircase from the plain of Thessaly towards the angle formed by the massif of Mount Olympus and the long wall-like range of the Kambouni; and to each of these plateaux access can alone be obtained through one narrow break in the successive ridges of limestone rock which severally fence them in. Up the Melouna pass we had now reached the crest of the first of these ridges. To the south the whole plain of Larissa lay mapped out at our feet to the distant hills of Dhomoko and the blue outline of the mountains which form the present boundaries of the Hellenic kingdom-towns, villages, and farms dotted about in patches of dark verdure and white houses over the vast reach of ploughed fields and rich pasture-lands, broken only here and there by the glistening waters of a swampy lake or the silver thread of the Peneus meandering lazily across the flat. Turning northwards, we seemed to have a reflection of the same view reduced to a smaller scale,—a fertile table-land rich with a plenteous harvest of maize,

which, owing to the difference of altitude, was here still waiting to be reaped; broad bands of red earth where the wheat crops had already been cut; villages half hidden amid groves of walnut-trees and willows; and at the farther extremity, under a rocky cliff such as that we had just scaled, the small town of Elassona. It is in this basin that the pure Wallach element begins. In Elassona itself there are, out of four or five hundred houses, perhaps one-third of Mussulmans; but in the other hamlets, and especially in the large neighbouring village of Tzaritzena, with its more than two hundred houses, the population is almost unmixed Wallach. Descendants they claim to be of the old Roman legionaries who colonised this region; and notwithstanding the influence of Hellenism, which has been during centuries of Turkish oppression their protector, their instructor, and their hope, both their language and their type are there to prove that they have no family affinity with the Hellenic Greeks. Hence, northwards into Macedonia pure Greeks are no longer to be found. All the communities which are included under that designation are Wal

lachs; or Romounoi, as they call themselves -Greco - Wallachs, as they are called by the Hellenes.

Elassona was to be our resting-place for the night, and we made straight for the house of an Albanian Bey whose hospitality Selami Pasha had bespoken. We had scarcely established ourselves in the selamlik before the interminable procession of officials, officers, and notables made their appearance in the room to to pay homage to the distinguished guest. This ceremony was repeated wherever we halted, but I will not visit this daily infliction upon my readers. Ab uno disce omnes. First would apthe Governor or the President of the municipality, the civil "boss" of the place, in a very seedy official coat and Frankish boots of an extraordinary build; then the solemn Mufti, with a broad green turban, long white beard, and flowing garments; and the Kadi or judge, with a white turban and brown kaftan, generally obese and asthmatic, having grown fat on the pickings which belong to his profession; then the minor fry of officials, with their arms more devoutly folded and their backs more

pear

Each one as he

humbly bent as they descend in the official hierarchy; then the religious heads of the Christian communities, evidently rather ashamed at being caught by a foreigner in the act of cotooing to the infidel; and finally, the flood of notables, tall and short, stout and lean, dandified and dirty, Christian and Mussulman, all beaming with brotherly love and anxious to tread on each other's toes. enters rushes up to the Pasha and pretends to kiss the hem of his coat or the toe of his boot, upon which the latter says, "Istaghfar Allah!" (God forbid !) and the disappointed visitor retires with becoming alacrity to squat down in the best place which may still be left on the divan, or, failing that, upon the floor. The Pasha then inquires how things are getting on in the village or town, and a chorus replies that prosperity cannot fail to attend the sunshine of his Excellency's presence. The answer seems generally to be regarded as entirely satisfactory, for the Pasha relapses into conversation with his companions, or singles out one of his visitors to talk more practical business, and the rest sit in meditative silence awaiting the advent of coffee.

This part of the performance depends for its success on the number of coffee-cups which the establishment can produce: if there are thirty visitors, and only three or four coffee-cups in the house, the relays are apt to drag. But no visitor dreams of leaving until he has had his cup of coffee, even as none think of remaining, except on special invitation, after having consumed their quantum. On this occasion, however, the solemnity of the proceedings was broken by the sudden irruption of a wild-looking individual with long hair and shaggy beard, whose naked limbs were wrapped in, but scarcely concealed by, a single dingy garment of coarse grey wool. He at once rushed up to the Pasha, kissed him on both cheeks, and, without asking by your leave or with your leave, proceeded to squat himself down between me and mine host. He was a Dervish, and Selami at once introduced him to me as belonging to the mendicant order of the Bedawi. He seemed inclined at first to scowl at the unbeliever; but when I told him that I had seen the tomb of the founder of his order, Sheik Ahmed el Bedawi, at Tanta in Egypt, and had visited his spiritual chief at