There are two sorts of market in Marrakesh—­the open market outside the walls, and the auction market in the Kaisariyah.  The latter opens in the afternoon, by which time every little boxlike shop is tenanted by its proprietor.  How he climbs into his place without upsetting his stores, and how, arrived there, he can sit for hours without cramp, are questions I have never been able to answer, though I have watched him scores of times.  He comes late in the day to his shop, lets down one of the covering flaps, and takes his seat by the step inside it.  The other flap has been raised and is kept up by a stick.  Seated comfortably, he looks with dispassionate eye upon the gathering stream of life before him, and waits contentedly until it shall please Allah the One to send custom.  Sometimes he occupies his time by reading in the Perspicuous Book; on rare occasions he will leave his little nest and make dignified way to the shop of an adool or scribe, who reads pious writings to a select company of devotees.  In this way the morning passes, and in the afternoon the mart becomes crowded, country Moors riding right up to the entrance chains, and leaving their mules in the charge of slaves who have accompanied them on foot.  Town buyers and country buyers, with a miscellaneous gathering of tribesmen from far-off districts, fill the bazaar, and then the merchants hand certain goods to dilals, as the auctioneers are called.  The crowd divides on either side of the bazaar, leaving a narrow lane down the centre, and the dilals rush up and down with their wares,—­linen, cotton and silk goods, carpets, skins or brassware, native daggers and pistols, saddles and saddle-cloths.  The goods vary in every bazaar.  The dilal announces the last price offered; a man who wishes to buy must raise it, and, if none will go better, he secures the bargain.  A commission on all goods sold is taken at the door of the market by the municipal authorities.  I notice on these afternoons the different aspects of the three classes represented in the bazaar.  Shopkeepers and the officials by the gate display no interest at all in the proceedings:  they might be miles from the scene, so far as their attitude is a clue.  The dilals, on the other hand, are in furious earnest.  They run up and down the narrow gangway proclaiming the last price at the top of their voices, thrusting the goods eagerly into the hands of possible purchasers, and always remembering the face and position of the man who made the last bid.  They have a small commission on the price of everything sold, and assuredly they earn their wage.  In contrast with the attitudes of both shopkeepers and auctioneers, the general public is inclined to regard the bazaar as a place of entertainment.  Beggar lads, whose scanty rags constitute their sole possession, chaff the excited dilals, keeping carefully out of harm’s way the while.  Three-fourths of the people present are there to idle the afternoon hours, with no intention of making a purchase unless some unexpected bargain crosses their path.  I notice that the dilals secure several of these doubtful purchasers by dint of fluent and eloquent appeals.  When the last article has been sold and the crowd is dispersing, merchants arise, praise Allah, who in his wisdom sends good days and bad, step out of their shop, let down one flap and raise the other, lock the two with a huge key and retire to their homes.