The shopkeeper showed them a box containing a dozen cravats of every color of the rainbow, and the three boys stood hesitating before such magnificence. Aram recommended an apple-green tie and one of cherry-red, by turns. "The green one," he said, "is very distingué; but Dikran has a red one that his brother brought home from Beyrout, and he's just stuck on it. He declares you can't find anything like it here; it will be an awful blow to him if you buy one." Archag, a modern Paris, confronted by the beauties of the cravats, underwent all the torments of indecision. Finally Garabed, who had said nothing, jogged his elbow: "If I were you, I should take this pale blue one, then you will be wearing the Armenian color," and he pointed to a cravat of coarse silk and cotton. Before the beauty of this sky-blue tie, the charms of the two others paled. "It's that or none," said Archag to himself. But unfortunately, the shopkeeper asked a mejidieh (ninety cents) for it, a fabulous price for a necktie. The three boys simultaneously uttered cries of indignation, and turned to leave the shop. "Eh, lá, lá, Effendis, not so fast! How much do you offer me?" It was now the shopkeeper's turn to be alarmed. "Twelve piastres (fifty-three cents)," said Archag. "Twelve piastres! you wish to ruin me then? A cravat that comes straight from Vienna, and cost me three piastres duty! I will let you have it for eighteen piastres." Again a pretended exit of the shoppers. Finally, after twenty minutes of haggling and excited talk, Archag got his famous necktie for fifteen piastres, and our three friends left the shop radiant, escorted by the merchant, cringing and bowing repeatedly. "Good business!" he said to himself, as soon as their backs were turned. "I have had that ugly old rag in the shop for two years, and never expected to get rid of it at such a price." The tailor's shop was only a few steps away. Archag, acting on his friend's advice, bought a suit of serge. He tried it on at once, and then looked at himself in a mirror, surveying with great satisfaction his slender figure, his snow-white collar and blue cravat, and as a finishing touch, a scarf-pin in the shape of a four-leaf clover, the gift of his two friends. The merchant, his clerks, Garabed and Aram all declared that the suit fitted him like a glove. Archag, however, felt very much hampered by his trousers, which hit against his legs at every step; his suspenders pulled, and his stiff collar choked him, and he gave a sigh of envy as he looked at his flannel robe lying on a chair. But he paid his bill of two pounds and a half, took his zouboun on his arm, and went back to college with his companions.