By the Way 155 



Those visits ! the cigarettes that have to be 

 smoked, the concoctions that have to be swallowed ! 

 The sharbat, "cooled with Persian snow," might 

 be delicious, if it were not for that very doubtful 

 snow ; but the tea, two to four cups, still more 

 the coffee, are unmixed evils. The appearance of 

 coffee is the conventional sign for a guest to take 

 his departure, 1 and when during a visit the abom- 

 inable compound is brought up, you sing an in- 

 ternal nunc dimittis and " remove the cause of 

 inconvenience " as quickly as you can. Verily, 



" Persicos odi puer apparatus." 



I know no more searching test of the digestion 

 than an arrival in a Persian town. The dinners 

 generally begin with the utmost punctilio, the 

 guests seated strictly according to precedence, 

 the host in a lowly seat at the foot of the table. 

 Later on in the evening ceremony is a little 

 relaxed. Wine 2 is of course forbidden, hence 

 Byron's jingle 



" A Persian's heaven is easily made, 

 "Tis but black eyes and lemonade." 



1 If, however, you hear of a deceased Persian friend that he 

 was "given coffee," it means that his exit from this transient 

 world was secured by means of poison. 



2 As a matter of fact, wine is one of the promised delights of 

 the Muslim Paradise, but it is a sort that has no evil after-effects, 

 without a " headache in a hogshead " ! 



