We engaged one flute-player—a tall, dark-faced young giant in sheepskins—after he had displayed his aptness with his instrument. The local _han_, wherein we rested, drank _rakhi_, and ate cream-cheese, was a big common room with earthen floor. In the centre was a large stove, upon which was cooking some steaming dish with appetising odour. Around us sat dozens of huge burly fellows, bulky in their sheepskins, gossiping and drinking wine, a fierce-looking assembly, to be sure, and yet withal extremely good-humoured. After a while, the village musician was discovered, a short little fellow who played a quaint kind of two-stringed violin, and almost as soon as he sounded the weird, plaintive music, young girls with flowers entwined in their long plaited tresses, and others, slightly older, with the white handkerchiefs on their heads—the badge of matrimony—came trooping forth to perform for us the national dance—the _horo_. Forming in a line, the youths and maidens crossed arms, linked their hands in each other’s belts, and then began a curious kind of dance, keeping step with the music and ever advancing and retreating, keeping it up for a full half-hour. Now and then the tune was changed, and with the tune the dance. In the clear Eastern afterglow of evening, with the thin crescent moon slowly rising, it was a quaint and curious scene. The weird music, the strange costumes, the cries of the dancers, and the merry laughter of the girls, will long live within my memory as a picture worthy the brush of a great painter. And as we drove back to Sofia through the silent, starlit night, I wondered what impression those simple-minded folk, so far removed from Western civilisation, would receive of our fairy-lamps, pasteboard, tinsel, imitation mountains, brass bands, and water-chute at Earl’s Court! What would be the stories of their adventures in West Kensington and the wonders of London when they returned to remote Vladaja? I had, like every other Englishman, always regarded Bulgaria as a _terra incognita_, where local manufactures were absent and where most goods were imported. Therefore a surprise awaited me one day when Monsieur M. V. Lascoff, Director of the Bulgarian Commercial and Industrial Museum at Sofia, took me round that institution, and showed me specimens of the various goods produced in the country. In the museum was a most wonderful collection of articles representing the manufactures of Bulgaria, ranging from violins to soap, and from table-covers manufactured from beautifully embroidered jacket sleeves to writing-ink and tinned fruits.