wing me, while
I myself rode a magnificent stallion presented by Zil-es-Sultan to our
Consul. The horse had not been ridden for some time and was slightly
fresh. The place to which we directed our animals was the brass
bazaar, the most crowded and diabolically noisy place in the Shah's
dominions.

The sudden change from the brilliant light of the sun to the pitch
darkness of the vaulted bazaar, affected one's sight, and it was some few
seconds before one could distinguish anything, although one could hear
the buzzing noise of an excited crowd, and the cries of the ghulams
ordering the people to make room for the cavalcade.

In nearly all bazaars of the principal cities of Persia a very good
custom prevails. One or more streets are devoted entirely to the same
article, so that the buyer may conveniently make comparisons, and the
various merchants are also kept up to the mark by the salutary
competition close at hand thus rendered unavoidable. A Persian does not
go to a shop to buy anything without going to every other shop in the
bazaar to ask whether he can get a similar article better and cheaper.
Such a convenience as fixed prices, alike for all, does not exist in the
Persian bazaar, and prices are generally on the ascending or descending
scale, according to the merchant's estimate of his customer's wealth. It
is looked upon as a right and a duty to extort from a rich man the
maximum of profit, whereas from a poor fellow a few shais benefit are
deemed sufficient.

To buy anything at all in the bazaar involves great loss of time--and
patience,--excessive consumption of tea plus the essential
kalian-smoking. Two or three or more visits are paid to the stall by
Persian buyers before they can come to an agreement with the merchant,
and when the goods are delivered it is the merchant's turn to pay endless
visits to his customer's house before he can obtain payment for them.
Long credit is generally given by merchants to people known to them.
There is comparatively little ready money business done except in the
cheapest goods.

We shoved our way along through the very narrow streets with a long row
before us of sun columns, piercing through the circular openings in the
domed arcade of the bazaar, and projecting brilliant patches of light now
on brightly-coloured turbans, now on the black chudder of a woman, now on
the muddy ground constantly sprinkled with water to keep the streets
cool.

There are miles of bazaar, i