The “kossib,” or handicraftsman, is, as a rule, an honest man. Healthy competition is kept up by the various trades being located together, but this is merely by force of custom, and is not compulsory. Thus, all the coppersmiths work in one bazaar, and the noise caused by their hammering is deafening.

All of the wares made by natives are of the most solid and substantial kind; cooking pots, always of solid copper, last for generations, and when eventually worn out, are sold as old copper, at half the price of new ones. The silversmiths also usually work in the same neighbourhood; some among them are very skilful, but the coarse work required by the villagers tends to lower the tone of the articles turned out. Thin plates of silver hammered into patterns of raised flowers and arabesque work are in great request as mirror frames; the sheet of silver is backed with pitch and hammered; the effect is good. Silver articles are made which are afterwards chiselled in high relief in patterns similar to the Scinde work. Armlets to hold talismans (telism) are in great demand; they are called bazū-band, and are made of gold, silver, or damascened steel, often inlaid with gold.

The “pūlad,” or damascened steel, is beautifully veined, and much of it is ornamented with work à jour and inlaid with gold. But the almost prohibitive prices asked for this pūlad work and the constant demand for export render it very expensive.

The classes of shoemakers are many: the kafsh-dooz, or slipper-maker, as we should term him, makes the coloured leather, or shagreen slippers worn by the women; these only just reach the commencement of the heel, and when new are very elegant. They are shod with iron heels, which is a separate trade of itself. The orussee-dooz, or men’s shoemaker, is another trade. The chekme-dooz, or riding-boot-maker, a third; these boots are always made loose enough to kick off, and are practically better for long journeys on horseback than European boots. There is also the ghēva-dooz, who makes the ghēva or cotton shoe, by sewing together the knitted cotton top, or “jurab”—literally sock, made by the village women—to the sole, which is made by another trade, and formed of rags sewn together and tipped with horn. These ghēvas are light and cool, and very good for walking in; they are usually worn only in summer, and on the naked foot; they are unsurpassable in the foothold their broad soft sole gives for mountain climbing. When dirty they are whitened with pipeclay. The price is from two kerans to five kerans for an ordinary pair; it is possible to give a pound for an elaborate or embroidered pair.

The zangal, or leggings, are made of leather, and cover the space between the knee and ankle; they are affected by tribesmen, grooms, and muleteers as being cheaper than boots and as useful. They are often elaborately ornamented with embroidered leather. They are worn with ghēvas, sandals, or coarse shoes. The “terkesh-dooz,” or harness-maker, is the seller and maker of leather goods, such as holsters, harness, saddlery, etc.

The attār, or apothecary, sells all the drugs in use in the country, and most of the drysaltery, also tea.

The aleph sells grain, grass, and cut straw, also clover which is dried in ropes, wood, and charcoal.

The bakkal, or general dealer, sells groceries, dried fruits, and all that is sold by the oilman in England. Some of the goods sold by the aleph, who generally only sells wholesale, are retailed by the bakkal to the little people.

The dyer in Persia drives a roaring trade, as the cotton cloth, shirting, or longcloth, as the case may be, is often bought and afterwards dyed. The dyer, or rangraz, may always be known by his arms, which are stained a deep blue, or other colour, generally blue, as indigo is most used; all the shulwar (trousers) of the men and veils of the women, and most of the shirts of the lower orders, being dyed fast by indigo. The Persians dislike dyes that are not fast, as the aniline, and prefer the old ones, such as madder and indigo.

The tailor (“khyat”) in all cases makes up the materials of his clients, and ready-made clothing, or “slops,” are unknown. The tailor always cuts out the coat in presence of the customer. The price for making a coat is about one toman, or two or three kerans for a day’s work by a master tailor. The seamstress is glad to take a less figure, and goes out to work for half a keran a day and her breakfast. All sewing is invariably done with silk, which is sold by weight.