Page:Sixteen years of an artist's life in Morocco, Spain and the Canary Islands.djvu/77

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SIXTEEN YEARS OF AN ARTIST'S LIFE IN

But perseverance at last gained its end; and after a certain amount, more certainly that was agreeable, of pushing and scrambling, we finally managed to get through, and were rejoiced to find ourselves on the right side of the gate.

The first rays of sunlight on the morrow woke up the varied multitude to the real business of the day. Here were people from all parts of the empire,―blacks from the interior, Riffians from the frontiers, Arabs from the desert, the Jews of the cities, and numbers of Berbers, the most ancient race of the country. All the individuals of this strange assemblage of tribes were driving busy traffic, eager to make the most of their wares, and to dispose of them to the greatest advantage. Here, as in every other land where any of the race have found a settlement, the Jews were pushing a thriving trade. Anxious only to exchange their goods for hard cash, they were not at all scrupulous about the means by which their end was to be gained. If they did occasionally cheat a little, where was the harms, when the victim of their wily art, their fawning look, and their deceptive tongue was only a persecuting follower of the false prophet on the one hand, or a vile dog of Nazarene on the other? There they are, jostling about in all directions―when