Excepting the dress and appearance of the people, the articles exposed for sale, and the language in which the transactions were carried on, the Abyssinian market, in its more prominent character, exactly resembles similar assemblages of people in English towns; the same confused hum of voices, busy ever changing figures crossing and recrossing, stooping to look at wares, or pushing through the crowd to make way to the seats of those selling that which they may require. All is bustle and apparent confusion, over which loud cries of hawking sales-people reach to the very outskirts of the town. I pushed along with the rest, followed closely by Walderheros, carrying the goat skin bag over his shoulder, in which to carry home the ahmulahs we were in search of, in exchange for our dollar. For a moment as we passed, groups would suspend their conversation to turn and look at the novel figure that had intruded among them, and strangers, to whom the white man was a curiosity, would inquisitively ask from the townspeople all particulars of my nation, and my business in Shoa. No impertinent interruption, or shouting in derision, made my visits to this busy scene unpleasant; a short whisper, that I was a _balla durgo_, and a friend of the Negoos, was sufficient to restrain the most curious from pressing around, even when, on pretence of directing me in choosing the ahmulahs, which was an opportunity that the more careful frequently sought, to introduce themselves to my notice, and which was generally, in such cases, the preliminary to some request for medicine. The object Walderheros and I had now in view was to change the dollar, and for this purpose we sought out that portion of the plain, where in several orderly lines, numerous salt brokers sat behind heaps of “ahmulahoitsh,” the remarkable currency of Shoa, in common with all parts of Abyssinia.