The Old Tobacco Shop: A True Account of What Befell a Little Boy in Search of AdventureBowen, William
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The Old Tobacco Shop: A True Account of What Befell a Little Boy in Search of Adventure
Bowen, William
Fantasy literature
On each side of the open gate, at the foot of the high thick wall, was
what appeared to be a fair. As far as the eye could see, the base of the
wall was lined with booths, each with an awning over it from the wall
behind, gaily striped in orange and blue and yellow and brown. In these
booths was spread out in disorderly profusion a mass of merchandise of
all kinds; gold and silver ornaments, brass and copper vessels, rugs and
carpets, spectacles and clocks, toys and games, herbs and ointments,
fish-nets and sailors' instruments, canes and crutches, ribbons and
laces, perfumery, precious stones--things innumerable; even parrots and
monkeys, in cages; in one booth was a potter, twirling his potter's
wheel; in another a fortune-teller, laying little sticks down in curious
patterns on his table; in another a man pasting on cards bits of
coloured feathers, in the form of tiny birds and fowls, most life-like;
in another a glass-blower, delicately twining a thread of spun glass for
the rigging of a ship; in another a man sitting on a rug with a snake
before him, whose flat head stood stiffly up from his coil, and waved a
little to the motion of his master's finger; in another, a man was
bending over a flower-pot with a wand in his hand, and as he moved the
wand a stalk grew from the pot and at its end a bud appeared and
unfolded into a flower before the very eyes of his audience; in another
a great ape was marking down figures with chalk as his master called
them; in another a shuttle was weaving back and forth in a loom; there
seemed to be no end to the curious and diverting things to be seen in
those booths. The people in them were apparently of all the nations of
the earth; there were brown men and yellow men and black men, as well as
white; men with slant eyes, with round eyes, with flat noses, with
beak-noses, with wooly hair, with straight hair; there were turbans, and
fezzes, and hoods, and white gowns, and coloured robes, and velvet
jackets, and cotton blouses; and from all the venders rose such a hubbub
as Freddie had never in his life heard before, except once in the Gaunt
Street Theatre at home. A lively crowd chaffered with the venders and
walked in the paved street before their booths. It was a scene full of
life and colour, and Freddie was transported with delight.
"Oh!" he said, "can't we get down here and see all those sights? I
should like to spend the whole day here!"
"We've got other fish to fry just now, Freddie," said Toby. "We'll have
to see this some other time."
"It is a precious thought," said the Sly Old Fox, "that we have here
with us on our mules enough treasure to buy this whole bazaar, if we
wished to do it. It is a beautiful thought."
"Six 'undred paces to the right!" said Mr. Punch.
"Shiraz the Rug-Merchant!" said Toby. "By the looks of it, there must be
about five hundred rug-merchants along there."
"What was the number we were to find him by?" said Aunt Amanda.
"It's 3103101," said Toby.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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