difficulty, as the tune was wofully monotonous, there being only three strings to the instrument, all told; nor can I imagine any one who could tolerate such strains long—unless he wear a kilt. When the serenade was ended I took leave of the party, who most affectionately pressed on me a large nosegay of zimnias and rosemary, the ornaments of their little garden. _Aug. 6._—Next day, having heard that there was to be a large market at Karlovac,[156] about twenty-five miles south-west of Agram, towards the Bosnian frontier of Croatia, we hurried thither by rail, through fine oak forests and maize-covered champaign. On arriving we found the whole town swarming with country-folk, and the streets lined with varied booths. Several new features appeared in the costumes, and, above all, the greater propinquity to the Dalmatian frontier asserted itself in brilliant fezzes, such as are worn by the Morlachs and Uskoks of the Adriatic coastlands. They are of brighter scarlet than the Turkish, covered with rich embroidery or minute tassels of brilliant silk, like the tufts on some gorgeous caterpillar, and culminating in a peak. Some, however, wore varieties of the Agramer’s ‘pork-pie,’ which seemed to have been taken from patterns in the ‘Nuremberg Chronicle,’ and are very fashionable still in Sclavonic Istria. Some of the men wore blue vests or sleeveless jackets in place of the red of Agram; their belts were broader, and often displayed aching voids, in which outside the walls they carry arms; for within the towns here this is forbidden to all but Turks, who have managed to associate the practice with their religion, and are allowed to wear pistols and daggers under a conscience clause. [Illustration: Sluin Woman.]