CHAPTER X.

Shabatz.--A Provincial Chancery.--Servian Collector.--Description of
his House.--Country Barber.--Turkish Quarter.--Self-taught Priest.--A
Provincial Dinner.--Native Soiree.


I entered Shabatz by a wide street, paved in some places with wood.
The bazaars are all open, and Shabatz looks like a good town in
Bulgaria. I saw very few shops with glazed fronts and counters in the
European manner.

I alighted at the principal khan, which had attached to it just such a
cafe and billiard table as one sees in country towns in Hungary. How
odd! to see the Servians, who here all wear the old Turkish costume,
except the turban--immersed in the tactics of _carambolage_, skipping
most gaily and un-orientally around the table, then balancing
themselves on one leg, enveloped in enormous inexpressibles, bending
low, and cocking the eye to catch the choicest bits.

Surrendering our horses to the care of the khan keeper, I proceeded to
the konak, or government house, to present my letters. This proved to
be a large building, in the style of Constantinople, which, with its
line of bow windows, and kiosk-fashioned rooms, surmounted with
projecting roofs, might have passed muster on the Bosphorus.

On entering, I was ushered into the office of the collector, to await
his arrival, and, at a first glance, might have supposed myself in a
formal Austrian kanzley.