‘Show the dullest clodpole,’ says my invaluable German friend, ‘show the haughtiest feather-head, that a soul higher than himself is here; were his knees stiffened into brass, he must down and worship.’

Most Tashkentis who could somehow connect to the splendour displayed considered the festivities an unnecessary nuisance and immense waste of money.

Let's play hide and seek. I'll count. One elephant, two elephant, three elephant...

Come, let us hence, and put on other weeds;