ing of the ladies' yellow leather boots. A
tobacconist's shop with us is interesting to none but smokers, but
Turkish pipes have stems several feet long, made of various kinds of
wood, and these and the amber mouth-pieces, which are often of very
great value, and enriched with jewels, make the pipe-seller's wares
ornamental as well as useful. Nor can our gunsmiths' shops compete for
picturesqueness with the Bazaar devoted to arms, of all sorts and kinds,
elaborately mounted, decorated, sheathed, and jewelled. Turkey and
Persian carpets and rugs are common enough in England now, and you know
how handsome they are. Turbans, and even fezes, you will allow to look
prettier than English hats. Then some of the shops display things that
one does not see at all at home, such as the glass lamps for hanging in
the mosques and Greek churches. Nor is it the things for sale alone
which make the Bazaar so wonderful a sight. The buyers and sellers are
at least as picturesque as what they sell and buy. The floor of each
shop is raised two or three feet from the ground, and on a gay rug the
turbaned Turk who keeps it sits cross-legged and smokes his pipe and
makes his bargains, whilst down the narrow street (which in many
instances is arched overhead with stone) there struggle, and swarm, and
scream, and fight, black slaves, obstinate camels, primitive-looking
chariots full of Turkish ladies, people of all colours in all costumes,
and from every part of the world."

"It must be a wonderful place," sighed Maggie; "streets full of
beautiful shoes, and streets full of beautiful carpets."

"Just so, Maggie."

"Not at all like a London Bazaar, then. I thought perhaps it was a place
that shut up to itself, with a beadle sitting at the door?"

"I never was in Stamboul at night, but my belief is that the Bazaar is
secured at night by the locking up of gates. You know the people who own
the shops do not live in them, and as most valuable merchandise remains
in the Bazaar, it must be protected in some way. I suppose the watchmen
look after it."

"Have the Turks watchmen like the old London watchmen, Cousin? With
nightcaps, and rattles, and lanterns, and big coats?"

"The Turkish watchmen wear turbans--not nightcaps; but they have
lanterns and big coats, and in one respect they are remarkably like the
old 'Charlies,' as the London watchmen used to be called. Their object
is not (like policemen) to find robbers and misdoers, but to frighten