ir
father comes and squats down beside me, and, as we sip tea together, he
bestows a fond, parental smile upon the three scarlet poppies sitting
motionless, with heads slightly bent and eyes downcast, before us, and
inquires by an eloquent sweep of his chin what I think of them as
specimens of simon-pure nobility.

All through Persia the word "ob" has heretofore been used for water; but
linguistic changes are naturally to be expected near the frontier, and
the Darmian people use the term "ow." Upon my calling for ob, the khan's
attendant stares blankly in reply; but an animated individual in the
front ranks of the crowd about the doors and windows enlightens him and
me at the same time by shouting out, "Ow! ow! ow!"

The muezzin, calling the faithful to their evening prayers, likewise
utters the summons here at Darmian quite differently from anything of the
kind heard elsewhere.

The cry is difficult to describe; but without meaning to cast reflections
on the worthy muezzin's voice, I may perhaps be permitted to mention that
the people are twice admonished, and twice a listening katir (donkey)
awakens the echoing voices of the rock-ribbed gulch in vociferous
response.

The mother-in-law of the mirza lives at Darmian, and, like a dutiful son,
he lingers in her society until nine o'clock next morning. At that hour
he turns his horse's footsteps down the bed of the stream, while his
comrade guides me for a couple of miles over a most abominable
mountain-trail, rejoining the river and the dutiful son-in-law at Foorg.
Foorg is situated at the extremity of the gulch, and is distinguished by
a frowning old castle or fort, that occupies the crest of a precipitous
hill overtopping the village and commanding a very comprehensive view of
the country toward the Afghan frontier.

The villages of Darmian and Foorg, looking out upon wild frontier
territory, inhabited chiefly by turbulent and lawless tribes-people whose
hereditary instincts are diametrically opposed to the sublime ethics of
the decalogue have no doubt often found the grim stronghold towering so
picturesquely above them an extremely convenient thing.

The escort points it out and explains that it belongs to the "Padishah at
Teheran," and not to his own master, the Ameer--a national, as
distinct from a provincial, fortification. The cultivated environs of
Foorg present a most discouraging front to a wheelman; walled gardens,
rocks, orchards, and ruins, with hundre