This fountain is a beautiful specimen of Oriental architecture. It is an edifice about 30 feet square, built of pure white marble. Beneath the cornice which surrounds the roof is a border of arabesque characters, richly gilt, and from each side the water flows into a marble basin.
Not far from this fountain is a cluster of small shops, for the sale of Kebabs, tobacco, bonbons, and also many small Kahvés.
The Kebabs are small pieces of mutton, passed on iron skewers, and roasted over fires of ignited charcoal, and, though the establishments are small, they are constantly filled with groups, who surrounding the copper dishes, seem to attest the excellence of the viands. After satisfying the more imperative calls of nature, a visit to the tetune-gee, or tobacco merchant, is inevitable; for not to mention the almost hourly use of the far-famed weed, this luxury must always succeed every other repast. Then a moment of kief at the coffee shop, the fumes of the chibouque, a sip of mocha's berry, a little neighborly chit-chat, or it may be a business rendezvous, and you are ready to proceed up the steep hill to Pera. Some mount their own horses, which the grooms hold in attendance, others avail themselves of the more jaded looking animals who are waiting to be hired, and sometimes the Turkish ladies,--rather antiquities of the species, deliberately mount the leather hunch on the Hamal's back, and they too ride up, while others still are obliged, either from a lack of a like independence, or other stringent motives, to go on Shank's mare. Those who do not ascend the hill, disperse in various directions through the many narrow by-ways which diverge from the great area.
Pera is the Elysium of shop-keepers, the very essence of à la Franga, the Bey-oghlu or dwelling-place of Princes, the rendezvous of Ministers Plenipotentiary, Ministers resident, Consular dignitaries, secretaries of Legations, Dragomans, Attachés, and all the élite of society--a swarming hive of Diplomacy--only get inside of the hive, even as drone, and you are comme il faut. There is a certain imposing, mysterious, impenetrable air about every member of this haute noblesse--each one is full of importance, each one is condescending to the other; all are on the qui vive for a stray word, an echo of the all-important diplomatic measures of their rivals; all are cautious not to betray by look or action any embryo intrigues or manoeuvres. Thus social intercourse consists of gracious words, unmeaning civilities, and mutual distrust and suspicion.