"Since you say I must name a price," said Karim, feeling rather at sea, "I will give one toman."
"What!" screamed the shop keeper, "only one toman for a saddle fit for the hero Rustem! What pack horse's saddle would cost so little? Ten tomans could not buy it."
"Fit for Rustem, indeed!" said Karim, scornfully. "My master's mule driver would be ashamed to ride on it. See how the leather is worn, here, and here, and here. One toman is too much, but my master is generous, and so I must be. Take eleven krans, and thank God."
"This is the way you servants of the khans laugh at my beard, and grind the faces of us who are poor. The leather alone of this saddle cost more than eleven krans. If I sold it for seven tomans, I would be giving it away."
"Your beard indeed saves you," said Karim, "for it is long, and I must treat you with respect. For the sake of your beard I'll offer fifteen krans."
"It is plain you are a country bumpkin, and do not know what saddles are worth," said the shop keeper. "Ask any one of these merchants here, and he will tell you that if I sell the saddle for six tomans I shall lose money. But our governor, your master, is a good man. For his sake take it for five and a half."
In reply Karim offered two tomans.
The shop keeper came down to five.
They kept on disputing in this way until at last Karim bought the saddle for three tomans. He carried it home on his shoulder, and began to brag to the other servants about his bargain.