n Teheran and Isfahan, roofed over in long
arcades to protect the shops and buyers from the sun in summer, from the
rain and snow in winter. The height of the arcade is from thirty to sixty
feet, the more ancient ones being lower than the modern ones.

To any one well acquainted with other Eastern countries there is
absolutely nothing in a Persian bazaar that is worth buying. The old and
beautiful objects of art have left the country long ago, and the modern
ones have neither sufficient artistic merit nor intrinsic value to be
worth the trouble and expense of sending them home. For curiosity's
sake--yes, there are a few tawdry articles which may amuse friends in
Europe, but what I mean is that there is nothing that is really of
intense interest or skilful workmanship, such as one can find in Japan,
in China, in Morocco or Egypt.

We ride through the street of hatters, each shop with walls lined with
piles of _kolah_ hats, black and brimless, shaped either in the section
of a cone or rounded with a depression on the top. They are made of
astrakan or of black felt, and are worn by the better people; but further
on we come to cheaper shops, where spherical skull caps of white or light
brown felt are being manufactured for the lower classes.

As we ride along, a stinging smell of dyes tells us that we are in the
cloth street, indigo colours prevailing, and also white and black cottons
and silks. One cannot help pitying the sweating shopman, who is busy
unrolling cloths of various makes before a number of squatting women, who
finger each and confabulate among themselves, and request to have the
roll deposited by their side for further consideration with a mountain of
other previously unrolled fabrics,--just like women at home. The rolls
are taken from neat wooden shelves, on which, however, they seldom rest.
Soiled remnants of European stocks play a very important part in this
section of the bazaar.

On turning round a corner we have shoes and boots, foreign made, of the
favourite side-elastic pattern, or the native white canvas ones with rope
soles--most comfortable and serviceable for walking. The local leather
ones have strong soles with nails and turned-up toes, not unlike the
familiar Turkish shoe; while the slippers for women have no back to them
at the heel and have fancy toes.

Then come the attractive sweet-shops, with huge trays of transparent
candy, and the _Pash mak_ pulled sugar, as white and light as raw si