Hobart Pasha

I saw at the hotel last night Admiral Hobart Paáha, the real life and heart of tho Dttomau navy. He called to payhis respecta to Capt. Gambicr, of the navy, now of the Times corps of eorrespondents, and a former chuin. Ho is a man certainly 50 years of age. He is vat I kt short in stature, bnt coinpactly bnilt and lithe in bis movemeiits. He was dressed last night in aplain black Buit, bnttouodup t'rock coat, and he wore the simple red fez which is the indispensable adjunct of the Tmkish official. He carrted in hi hand a little stick, a sort of dogwhipper. His complexion is sallow, Lis whiskera are gray and stnbbly, his hair, which grows well down lus neek, is tinged with silver, and his tont ensemble is that of a well-conditioned Pasha. No one passing lvim in the street woulcl suspect his English origin, the orange color of the face and the fez effectually biding the traces of Anglo-Saxon blood and breeding. There was a depressed look about his gray eyes. His manner is short, abrupt and full of nervous energy. In conversation you have scarcely íinished a sentence before he is ready with his reply. I should take him for a man of wonderful executive ability, bnt thcn his naval training and years of arbitrary will may give him that sceming decisión of character which so promptly