As Osman was speaking, he heard a sound of music. Looking down the street, he saw two gipsies coming toward him. The man was playing on a bagpipe, and leading a tame bear. The woman was dressed in bright colours. She was beating a tambourine.
"Isn't it pretty music, papa? Oh, do look at the bear," cried Osman. "He is doing some tricks."
His father was in no hurry, so he and Osman joined the crowd who gathered around the gipsies. The bear danced in time to the music, and did other amusing things.
Osman tossed him a coin, which he carried to his master. This pleased the others, and they threw him some more coins.
"At this rate, the gipsies will go home to-night quite rich," laughed Osman's father, as they passed on. "We will go to the bazaar now. I must attend to some business there before it is much later."
"See that man with the tiger's skin over his shoulders," said Osman, a few minutes later. "He is clothed in rags, but he isn't a beggar, is he?"
"No, indeed, Osman. He is without doubt a wise man of our own faith, who prefers to be poor. He has probably come to the city to visit some holy tomb, in order to keep a vow he has made. He may have travelled many hundreds of miles. You should honour him, my little boy."
Osman and his father still moved through the crowd of busy people. They passed many Greeks and Armenians, who carry on a large share of the business of the city. There were also Englishmen and Americans, who were seeing the sights of this strange, lively place.
There were serious-looking Mohammedan priests in white and green turbans, with their eyes bent down to the ground. There were water-carriers with big jars on their backs, and sweetmeat-sellers with scales on which they were ever ready to weigh out the rich candies of Turkey.
As for dogs and beggars, there were hundreds of them, without a doubt.