Sarayevo, the Bosnian capital, is very Eastern, and, being so, is full of attraction for the stranger. There is a very fair old-fashioned hotel, the Europa, in the centre of the town, nearly two miles from the station. It is a city of mosques, the minarets of which were all gaily illuminated on the night of my arrival, producing a picturesque effect against the night-sky. The place is prettily situated—a town of some forty thousand inhabitants, half Serb, half Eastern. Lying in the narrow valley, whence the river Milyacka bursts forth from a gorge just above the town, the dwellers by the riverside are mostly Austrian immigrants, while the natives have their houses and their mosques on the hillside. Every house has its own little garden, as in Servia, and of course the bazaar is the centre of trade, as in every town where the beslippered Turk still remains. This _charshiya_, or bazaar, is a great labyrinth of dark, narrow, ill-paved alleys flanked with booths, where every trade, each with its particular quarter, is carried on in open view to the passers-by. The copper ware, silver filigree, and carpets are attractive, but most of the so-called Oriental goods are “fakes.” The place, though there is a variety of costume everywhere, is not half so attractive as Skodra, because of the Austrian bogey that pervades everything. To buy specimens of Bosnian chiselled metal work it is best to go to the Government School of Industrial Art, where the finest pieces of workmanship may be seen in course of execution, and where the price asked is a fixed one, below that demanded either in the bazaar or in shops. The services for Turkish coffee in chiselled copper-gilt are of chaste and very elegant design, perfect marvels of patience in chiselling, and very appreciable to the Western taste in decorative art. The chief feature of the bazaar is the Husref Beg Mosque, the finest in the town, to which, though an Infidel, I was granted admission. I of course put on overshoes, and made an interesting tour round with a priest who only spoke Turkish, so that I did not learn very much from him. Built about 1540, it is a fine spacious structure, with dome and high minarets, and in front, in the quiet old courtyard, is a fine old fountain for ablutions shaded by a very ancient lime tree. Before it, sit several Turkish pedlars in turbans selling rosaries, printed texts from the Koran, imitation otto-of-rose manufactured from geranium, European collar-studs, and other trifles. Another industry peculiar to Bosnia is the inlay of gold and silver into bog-oak, or gun-metal, and many quaint little objects—boxes, bracelets, brooches, and belt-buckles—quite unique in England, may be purchased. The old silver filigree buttons displayed everywhere may also be used with advantage by ladies for hat-pins.