The dogs looked lazily up, flinched a little when the impatient feet of the sheep touched their raw backs--sighed, and lay peacefully down again.

No talk could be plainer than that.

So some of the sheep jumped over them and others scrambled between, occasionally chipping a leg with their sharp hoofs, and when the whole flock had made the trip, the dogs sneezed a little, in the cloud of dust, but never budged their bodies an inch.

I thought I was lazy, but I am a steam-engine compared to a Constantinople dog.

But was not that a singular scene for a city of a million inhabitants?
These dogs are the scavengers of the city.