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76 side of the carpet. A flash of the knife and the ends are cut short. Knots after knots thus slip from under the nimble fingers till the ground work begins to glow with different colours—raspberry and wine reds, pinks and browns, relieved with white and black. The heddle raises some of the threads of the groundwork, and leaves the others, while both hands draw the strong elastic thread of the weft—the margin of the row. Then the hands pick up the heavy comb of hard wood and, with a few smart blows along the last row of the weft, drive the knots close up to the one before. Twenty rows, up to eight thousand knots, are made in a day, but in a square metre of any carpet there are eight hundred thousand knots to be tied and thickened. The close rows of varicoloured knots of uneven worsted steadily advance over the monotone of the background, and the pattern glimmers vaguely through the broken colours. But now the two small hands wield the great scissors, and the razor-keen blades crop the ragged ends of the knots to exactly three millimetres above the foundation. The harmonious design flashes into sudden brilliance of silken woollen pile. When the busy fingers need a rest, the carpet-weavers turn to a cup of tea, which is quaffed from a small gay faience. The wool of these carpets is dyed with the unfading colours obtained from the madder plant, cochineal, Sihchoba, etc., which last for centuries. It is interesting to note that old carpets fetch higher prices than the new ones, for the brilliancy of their colours, which is enhanced by constant use and rubbing. Next to carpets, the making of sheepskin coats and vests is a flourishing industry. Usually the edges and sleeves of the coats are embroidered with yellow silk. Coats of other furs,