shed with black, sat behind the
counter. The lady, judging from our exotic appearance, probably, that we
were personages of distinction, opened a drawer and took out two small
boxes, artistically executed, each of which contained a cup, thrice
enveloped in soft paper. After examining the goods with a certain degree
of suspense, we asked the price: "Tchik-la, gatse resi?" (How much
a-piece?) "Excellency, fifty ounces of silver each." The words came
upon us like a thunder-clap, that filled our ears with a buzzing noise,
and our eyes with a conviction that the shop was turning round. Our
entire fortune would scarcely have purchased four of these wooden cups.
Upon coming somewhat to ourselves, we respectfully restored the two
precious bowls to their respective boxes, and passed in review the
numerous collection that was unceremoniously displayed on the shelves of
the shop. "And these, how much are they each?" "Excellency, two for an
ounce of silver." We forthwith disbursed the ounce of silver, and
carried off, in triumph, the two wooden cups, which appeared to us
precisely the same as those for which we had been asked 20 pounds
a-piece. On our return home, the master of the house, to whom we showed
our purchase, gratified us with the information, that for an ounce of
silver we ought to have had at least four such cups as the two we had
received.

Poulou, pastile-sticks, and wooden-cups, are the three principal branches
of industry which the Thibetians successfully prosecute. Their other
manufactures are so poor and coarse as to be unworthy [Picture: Thibetian
Cup-shop] of any special mention. Their agricultural productions
scarcely merit notice. Thibet, almost entirely covered with mountains,
or cut up with impetuous torrents, affords to its population very little
cultivable space. It is only in the valleys that anything like a harvest
can be expected. The Thibetians cultivate little wheat, and still less
rice. The chief production is Tsing-Kou, or black barley, of which is
made the tsamba, that basis of the aliment of the entire Thibetian
population, rich and poor. The town of Lha-Ssa itself is abundantly
supplied with sheep, horses, and oxen. There is excellent fish, also,
sold there, and pork, of most exquisite flavour; but for the most part so
dear as to be quite out of the reach of the humbler classes. In fact,
the Thibetians, as a rule, live very poorly. Their ordinary repast is
buttered tea and ts