As always, the markets were full of hustle and bustle, of hurly and burly, of chopping and chaffering and chit-chat. Above the din one could hear the cries of street hawkers, offering every combination of fungible and predicate imaginable.
“My lady! Musk glands for my lady!”
“Smoked gall! Whoooo will buy my smooooked gall!”
“Batdogs! Are they bat? Are they dog? Once you’ve tried ’em, you won’t care! Baaatdogs!”
“Carp fleas! New season’s carp fleas!”