Towards midday business is suspended for a while, and the alleys of the bazaar empty as if by magic.

For nearly a whole hour silence, unbroken save by the snarling of some pariah dog, the hiss of the samovar, and gurgle of the kalyan, falls over the place, till 2 p.m., when the noise recommences as suddenly as it ceased, and continues unbroken till sunset.
On the whole, the bazaar is disappointing.

The stalls for the sale of Persian and Central Asian carpets, old brocades and tapestries, and other wares dear to the lover of Eastern art, are in the minority, and must be hunted out.

Manchester goods, cheap calicoes and prints, German cutlery, and Birmingham ware are found readily enough, and form the stock of two-thirds of the shops in the carpet and silk-mercers' arcade.
It is by no means easy to find one's way about.

No one understands a word of English, French, or German, and had it not been for my knowledge of Russian--which, by the way, is the one known European language among the lower orders--I should more than once have been hopelessly lost.
Europeans in Teheran lead a pleasant though somewhat monotonous life.
Summer is, as I have said, intolerable, and all who can seek refuge in the hills, where there are two settlements, or villages, presented by the Shah to England and Russia.