What queer old jewelry finds a market in Mequinez! [Footnote: Mequinez (Mekinez): a city not far from Fez.] When could the things ever have been new?--There is not one which has not an air of extreme antiquity; old rings for wrists or ankles, worn smooth by centuries of rubbing against human flesh; great clasps for fastening veils; little old silver bottles with coral pendants to hold the black dye with which the eyes are painted, with hooks to fasten them at the belt; boxes to enclose Korans, [Footnote: Korans: the Koran is the sacred book of the Mohammedans.] carved in arabesques and bearing Solomon's seal; old necklaces of gold sequins, defaced by wear on the necks of women long since dead; and quantities of those large trefoils [Footnote: Trefoil: a shape similar to that of the clover leaf.] in hammered silver, enclosing a green stone, which are hung about the neck to avert the bad effect of the evil-eye. These things are all spread out on little dirty worm-eaten tables, in front of the squatting merchants, in the little dens in the old walls. The bazaar is very near the Jewish quarter, and several of that race, knowing us to be here, come and offer us trinkets, bracelets, quaint old rings and emerald earrings,--things which they take from the pockets of their black robes with furtive airs, after having cast distrustful looks around. We are also approached by the dealers in the fine woolen rugs and carpets of R'bat, which they throw upon the ground, among the dust, refuse, and bones, to show us the rare designs and splendid colors of their wares. The sun is getting low; it is time for us to end our bargaining, which has not been conducted without some wrangling, and to leave the sacred city which we are to behold no more, and betake ourselves to our tents. Before passing the last gate of the enclosure, we halt in a sort of small bazaar, of whose existence we were not previously aware. It is that of the bric-a-brac merchants, and the Lord only knows what queer oddities this kind of shop can display. Ancient arms constitute the principal stock in trade; rusty yataghans, long Souss muskets; then old leather amulets for war or for the chase; ridiculous powder-horns, and also musical instruments; guitars covered with snake-skin, pipes and tambourines. To keep the rubbish which they are selling in countenance, no doubt, the dealers are mostly all broken-down, worn-out, old men. Undoubtedly the people in this bazaar are very poor and have need to sell their goods, for they crowd around us and press us with their wares. We make several surprising bargains. As the sky grows yellow and the cold breeze of sunset springs up, we are still there, near the lonely gate, beneath the branches of the old trees. --PIERRE LOTI.