There are three chief bazaars or streets of shops in Kabul. Two lead from the direction of the workshop gorge eastward through the town. One running near the foot of the mountains to the Bala Hissar, and the other near the middle of the town. These two are for a considerable distance broader, better paved, and more carefully roofed than the others. In the best part the houses are two stories high. They are flat topped, and beams supporting a roof to the bazaar extend across from house to house. In other parts, where the houses are but one story, the bazaar is not roofed in. The other chief bazaar extends from a strong wooden bridge over the Kabul river, southward through the middle of the town. This too is roofed over in a part of its course, but it is neither so broad nor so carefully built as the others. There are a few smaller bazaars and many narrow streets or passages striking off in different directions from the others. They are badly paved, undrained, and exceedingly dirty. The shops are small and open, like stalls, with no front window. The floor of each is raised three or four feet above the street, and the shopkeeper sits cross-legged among his goods. At night he closes his shop with shutters, fastening the last shutter with a chain and a curious cylindrical padlock. Some parts of the bazaars are reserved for the sale or manufacture of particular articles. There is, for instance, the shoe bazaar. This is in the street leading from the wooden bridge south. The Afghan shoes are of heavy make, are sewn with strips of leather and have the pointed toe turned upwards. Some are elaborately embroidered with gold. The women’s shoes or slippers are generally green in colour, and are made with a high heel. They are almost sandals, having an upper only at the toe. They are awkward things to walk in, I have noticed, for they drop at the heel at every step. The native shoes are those most on show, but one can buy English boots of all kinds, from the elaborate patent leather of Northampton to the three-and-sixpenny army boot. There are also long Russian boots made of beautifully soft leather: these are the fashion among the highest class; and a cheaper Turkoman boot of a similar shape with a high heel that cavalry soldiers who can afford the luxury invest in. A shopkeeper is, however, none too ready to show you his best goods. He does not exhibit them in the shop, for the Government officials have a way of buying anything that takes their fancy at their own price. I noticed in the boot bazaar that in the three-foot space under the floor of the shop the poorer men, the cobblers, did their business. There was just room to sit, and there the cobbler sat stitching, with his nose on a level with the knees of the passers by. A customer with a shoe to mend squats down beside him and gives his orders. Cobblers who can’t afford to rent even such a “shop” as this, sit by the roadside in the shade of a wall or a tree and carry on their business.