The boat like all other things goes but slowly--however the weather here
is unusually dry and fine.
I have just been to see my poor friend Sittee Zubeydeh, widow of
Hassaneyn Effendi who died in England--and I am filled with admiration at
her good sense and courage. She has determined to carry on her husband's
business of letting boats herself, and to educate her children to the
best of her power in habits of independence. I hope she will be
successful, and receive the respect such rare conduct in a Turkish woman
deserves from the English. I was much gratified to hear from her how
kindly she had been treated in Glasgow. She said that nothing that could
be done for her was left undone. She arrived this morning and I went to
see her directly and was really astonished at all she said about her
plans for herself and her children. Poor thing! it is a sad blow--for
she and Hassaneyn were as thoroughly united as any Europeans could be.
I went afterwards to my boat, which I hope will be done in five or six
days. I am extremely impatient to be off. She will be a most charming
boat--both comfortable and pretty. The boom for the big sail is new--and
I exclaimed, 'why you have broken the new boom and mended it with
leather!' Omar had put on a _sham splice_ to avert the evil eye from
such a fine new piece of wood! Of course I dare not have the blemish
renewed or _gare_ the first puff of wind--besides it is too
characteristic.
There is some cholera about again, I hear--ten deaths yesterday--so
Olagnier tells me. I fancy the rush of Europeans back again, each
bringing 'seven other devils worse than himself' is the cause of it.
I think I am beginning to improve a little; my cough has been terribly
harassing especially at night--but the weather is very good, cool, and
not damp.