nths over the wilds of Tartary.
Then merchants come from Bokhara to buy the tea, and to carry it home,
where it is so much liked.

AFFGHANISTAN.

This land is not a desert. Yet there are but few trees, and because there
is so little shade, the rivulets are soon dried up. Yet it might be a
fruitful land, if the inhabitants would plant and sow. But they prefer
wandering about in tents, and living upon plunder, to settling in one
place and living by their labor. The Tartar has good reason for roaming
over his plains, because the land is bad; but the Affghan has no reason,
but the _love_ of roaming.

The plains of Affghanistan are sultry, but the mountains are cool; for
their tops are covered with snow. The shepherds feed their flocks on the
plains during the winter; but in the spring they lead them to the
mountains to pass the summer there. Then the air is filled with the sweet
scent of clover and violets. The sheep often stop to browse upon the
fresh pasture; but they are not suffered to linger long. The children
have the charge of the lambs; an old goat or sheep goes before to
encourage the lambs to proceed, and the children follow with switches of
green grass. Many a little child who can only just run alone, enjoys the
sport of driving the young lambs. The tents are borne on the backs of
camels. The men are terrible-looking creatures, tall, large, dark, and
grim, with shaggy hair and long black beards. They wear great turbans of
blue check and handsome jackets, and cloaks of sheep-skin; they carry in
their girdles knives as large as a butcher's; and on their shoulders a
shield and a gun.

Besides these wild wanderers, there are some Affghans who live in houses.

Cabool, the capital, is a fine city, and the king dwells in a fine
citadel. The bazaar is the finest in all Asia. It is like a street with
many arches across it; and these people sell all kinds of goods.

But what is a fine _bazaar_ compared to a beautiful _garden?_ Cabool is
surrounded by gardens: the most beautiful is the king's. In the midst is
an octagon summer-house, where eight walks meet, and all the walks are
shaded by fruit-trees. Here grow, as in Bokhara, the best fruits to be
found in an English garden, only much larger and sweeter. The same kind
of birds, too, which sing in England sing among its branches, even the
melodious nightingale. It is the chief delight of the people of Cabool to
wander in the gardens: they come there every even