The Mussalmans pushed them off.
Thy father was a pastry-cook--' He stopped; for there shuffled round the corner, from the roaring Motee Bazar, such a man as Kim, who thought he knew all castes, had never seen.

He was nearly six feet high, dressed in fold upon fold of dingy stuff like horse-blanketing, and not one fold of it could Kim refer to any known trade or profession.

At his belt hung a long open-work iron pencase and a wooden rosary such as holy men wear.

On his head was a gigantic sort of tam-o'-shanter.

His face was yellow and wrinkled, like that of Fook Shing, the Chinese bootmaker in the bazar.