The Sun Is Burning; And The Wine, Contained In Tarry Goat-Skins, Is,
After A Few Hours' Exposure To The Heat, About The Temperature Of The
Hottest Bath; Thus Absorbing The Vile Smells Of The Primitive But Secure
Package.
The owner is well aware that the value of his wine will depend
upon the flavour, therefore he hurries his mules forward, in order to
deliver it as quickly as possible to the merchant, before it shall be
contaminated by the skins.
Upon arrival at Limasol it may be late, and nothing can be done. His
wine must be weighed by the government official at the public
weighing-place, specially assigned for the wine trade; and he drives his
laden and tired mules to the yard. Here he finds some hundreds of mules
and their proprietors in a similar position to himself; however, there
is no help for it, and they must be patient through the night while
their wine is imbibing the hateful flavour of the goat-skins. In the
meantime they must purchase food for their mules and seek quarters for
themselves.
When the morning appears the government official has enough to do, and
as a certain time must be occupied in weighing a given quantity, the day
wears away. Every man has to present his teskeri, or permit, for removal
from his village to Limasol of a specified quantity of wine, and his
load must weigh that prescribed weight upon delivery. His scales may not
have been exactly in harmony with those of the government official; but
should the quantity exceed the teskeri, the owner must pay DOUBLE THE
AMOUNT OF TAXATION.
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