barked stems of the lordly poplar, tall enough
for the masts of a ship—and mules between large
bundles of firewood and fagots, rough hewn, or
great fat trusses of fresh grass or straw, or
reeking skins of water.

Mules, camels, horses, donkeys, men, all
shoving, rushing, and pushing as fast as
possible through the streets. Truly my five
servants are not one too many, and sometimes
they are all employed together in preventing
my being knocked down and hurt by this
turbulent stream of traffic. It is also equally
true, that they are fond of attracting rather
more attention to me than needs be, by a
custom which Persian servants have of taking
every passenger they meet—man or woman,
horse, or ass, or mule—and turning them round
by the shoulders to keep them out of the way,
muttering the important words "Sahib! sahib!"
to drown remonstrance. "Sahib" is a word
signifying a foreign gentleman, and is used much
as "Moossoo" might be among a certain class
in London. Yet, if a company of lacqueys were to
appear in Fleet-street, surrounding a gentleman
from Leicester-square, and turn Mr. Punch and
Mr. Omnium. towards St. Paul's when going to
Temple Bar, it is doubtful if the word "Moossoo,"
however imposingly pronounced, would
immediately pacify them. The respect and
honours exacted by Europeans in the East
would seem absurd indeed, if required by
Asiatics in Europe. Perhaps it is absurd in any
case.

Very strange and pretty, however, is the aspect
of the streets and bazaars of Tehran to an
European eye. Here comes a lady on a white ass.
Its mane and tail are dyed with henna. The
lady is a light blue lady, wearing a white calico
veil with windows in it. She rides upon a
crimson velvet saddle. Then two women come
along in a pair of cajowas, or hooded baskets,
slung on each side of a white horse, and thus
balancing each other's weight. Another woman
follows, perched on a bed carried by a mule.
Around her are a swarm of children and
servants, and a man walking unconcernedly in
front. This is the family of some humble townsman
migrating to another dwelling. By-and-
by comes a great lady riding a-straddle on a tall
horse. She has a golden bridle and fine housings.
She is followed by half a dozen maids,
and a crowd of eunuchs and ferroshes with
sticks; some on horseback, some on foot. She
is evidently a very great lady indeed. I have
noticed that the peculiarly bumptious, self-
satisfied, boasting, vain nature of the Persian
people is never more visible outwardly than
when they are seated on horseback. A mounted
Persian is Vanity itself, in full bloom, and full
feather.

Here walks, arrayed in a scarlet cloak, one of
the keepers of the gates of the Ark. On his
head is a grotesque hat, covered with tassels of
many-coloured silks, and in shape something
like the head-dress worn by the Incas of Peru.
In his hand is a long staff with a silver spear-
point. Near him, a great man, dressed in
magnificent shawls, passes by on horseback. I ask
my nozzir in a whisper who he is? But my words
have been heard by the keen, sharp-witted race
around me, and the passers-by immediately stop
to answer the question. They each and all
inform me eagerly that he is a great state
dignitary, and gossip about him with much wit and
license of tongue. A man marketing for a
lamb, takes immediate advantage of the chance
assembly, and tries to enlist us all in his favour
against the butcher, talking loud to shame the
fellow, apparently a sheep-faced bumpkin, into
letting him have it half-price. What strikes me
especially is the beauty of the men, and the
general ugliness of the women. But Persian
women have a remarkably free and graceful
step in walking, especially when contrasted with
the duck-like waddle of the Turks.

Under a little shed, perhaps merely hired for
the day, is a tailor cutting his cloth on a round
block of wood, which he places between his
knees. This block is in shape like an immense
pumpkin. The instrument he uses to cut the
cloth is a broad semicircular blade, something
like that used by cheesemongers in England.
He is surrounded by a talkative crowd, all
dressed in bright colours, blue, and yellow, and
red.

At the corners of the streets are money-
changers, with tables, such as the Divine Master
overthrew in the Temple. Their owners are
mostly Jews, a miserable and abject race in
Persia. In a small gloomy shop, excessively
dirty, is an establishment which appears to be
a mint for making money. The operation, of
coining in Persia seemed simple enough. It
consisted in beating together and melting a
quantity of Russian imperials, and making them
into tomauns. This process was carried on in a
dark hole, only fit for the abode of a chimney-
sweeper.

A powerful khan sits in a gossip-shop,
surrounded by servants, and talking to them. One,
who appears a privileged person, has a skewbald
beard. It is white from age near the roots, but
he has dipped the ends in henna, and dyed them
a reddish brown. These gossip-shops are very
numerous, and well frequented, even the ladies
of the court often coming to sit and talk away
a whole afternoon in them. There are a great
many professional talkers and story-tellers about;
but they are not very romantic-looking
personages, and their audiences are chiefly mere
rabble. The beggars, who sit upon the ground
chanting the Koran (for it should be chanted,
and not read), are far more worthy of attention.
So is the snake-charmer, really a mighty curious
personage.

But I think I prefer to wander heedlessly
on among the pretty shops of many-coloured
pottery, of those graceful shapes for which
the East has always been so famous. I like
to stop and watch the eager eyes fixed on
some goldsmith, as he weighs out the coins for
a kaleon. He hands the gold or silver, when
weighed, to the metal workers, whose tools are
rude and primitive, a hammer and file doing the