ssians he cannot stand. I am not the man who
conquered Central Asia. I will try and open this closely shut gentleman.

I approach him; I bow; I am about to speak. He gives me a slight
inclination and turns on his heel and walks off! The animal!

But the Decauville gives its last whistle. The major and I occupy one
of the open carriages. Half an hour afterwards we are through the
Dervaze gate, the major leaves me, and here am I, wandering through the
streets of Bokhara.

If I told the readers of the _Twentieth Century_ that I visited the
hundred schools of the town, its three hundred mosques--almost as many
mosques as there are churches in Rome, they would not believe me, in
spite of the confidence that reporters invariably receive. And so I
will confine myself to the strict truth.

As I passed along the dusty roads of the city, I entered at a venture
any of the buildings I found open. Here it was a bazaar where they sold
cotton materials of alternate colors called "al adjas," handkerchiefs
as fine as spider webs, leather marvelously worked, silks the rustle of
which is called "tchakhtchukh," in Bokhariot, a name that Meilhac and
Halevy did wisely in not adopting for their celebrated heroine. There
it was a shop where you could buy sixteen sorts of tea, eleven of which
are green, that being the only kind used in the interior of China and
Central Asia, and among these the most sought after, the "louka," one
leaf of which will perfume a whole teapot.

Farther on I emerged on the quay of the Divanbeghi, reservoirs,
bordering one side of a square planted with elms. Not far off is the
Arche, which is the fortified palace of the emir and has a modern clock
over the door. Arminius Vambery thought the palace had a gloomy look,
and so do I, although the bronze cannon which defend the entrance
appear more artistic than destructive. Do not forget that the Bokhariot
soldiers, who perambulate the streets in white breeches, black tunics,
astrakan caps, and enormous boots, are commanded by Russian officers
freely decorated with golden embroidery.

Near the palace to the right is the largest mosque of the town, the
mosque of Mesjidi Kelan, which was built by Abdallah Khan Sheibani. It
is a world of cupolas, clock towers, and minarets, which the storks
appear to make their home, and there are thousands of these birds in
the town.

Rambling on at a venture I reach the shores of the Zarafchane on the
northeast of the town. Its fres