The
Cypriotes Are Polite, Therefore I Heard No Rude Remarks.
The Cypriote
boys are like all other boys, therefore they climbed to the top of the
van, and endeavoured by escalade to enter the windows.
On one occasion I
captured HALF A BOY (the posterior half) who was hanging with legs
dangling out of the window, his "forlorn-hope" or advance half vainly
endeavouring to obtain a resting-place upon vacuity within (as the fall
slab-table was down). I had no stick; but the toes of his boots had
imprinted first impressions upon the faultless varnish. What became of
that young Cypriote was never known.
Even in Cyprus there are municipal laws, and now that the English are
there they are enforced; therefore my huge van could not remain like a
wad in a gun-barrel, and entirely block the street. A London policeman
would have desired it to "move on" but--this was the real grievance
that I had against Larnaca--the van COULD NOT "MOVE ON," owing to its
extreme height, which interfered with the wooden water-spouts from the
low roofs of the flat-topped houses. This was a case of "real distress."
My van represented civilisation: the water-spouts represented barbarism.
If a London omnibus crowded with outside passengers had attempted to
drive through Larnaca, both driver and passengers would have been swept
into I have not the slightest notion where; and my van was two feet
higher than an omnibus!
I determined that I would avoid all inferior thoroughfares, and that the
van should pass down Wolseley Street, drawn by a number of men who would
be superior in intelligence to the Cypriote mules and be careful in
turning the corners.
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