The poor wear dirty and ragged clothes, and the children may be seen crawling about in the dust, and looking like little pigs.  Yet in one respect the Persians are very clean; they bathe often.  In every village there is a large bath.

The poor people have animals of various kinds—­a few sheep, or goats, or cows.  In the day one man takes them all out to feed.  In the evening he brings them back to the village, and the animals of their own accord go home to their own stables.  Each cow and each sheep knows where she will get food and a place to sleep in.  The prophet Isaiah said truly, “The ass knoweth his owner, and the ox his master’s crib; but Israel doth not know, my people doth not consider.”

THE PERSIAN LADIES.—­They wrap themselves up in a large dark blue wrapper, and in this dress they walk out where they please.  No one who meets them can tell who they are.

And where do these women go?  Chiefly to the bath, where they spend much of their time drinking coffee and smoking.  There too they try to make themselves handsome by blackening their eyebrows and dyeing their hair.  Sometimes the ladies walk to the burial-grounds, and wander about for hours among the graves.  When they are at home they employ themselves in making pillau and sherbet.  Pillau is made of rice and butter; sherbet is made of juice mixed with water.

The ladies have a sitting-room to themselves.  One side of it is all lattice-work, and this makes it cool.  At night they spread their carpets on the floor to sleep upon, and in the day they keep them in a lumber-room.

PERSIAN INNS.—­They are very uncomfortable places.  There are a great many small cells made of mud, built all round a large court.  These cells are quite empty, and paved with stone.  The only comfortable room is over the door-way of the court, and the first travellers who arrive are sure to settle in the room over the door-way.

Once an English traveller arrived at a Persian inn with his two servants.  All three were very ill and in great pain, from having travelled far over burning plains and steep mountains.

But as the room over the door-way was occupied, they were forced to go into a little cold damp cell.  As there was no door to the cell, they hung up a rag to keep out the chilling night air, and they placed a pan of coals in the midst.  Many Persians came and peeped into the cell; and seeing the sick men looking miserable as they lay on their carpets, the unfeeling creatures laughed at them, and no one would help them or give them anything to eat.  The travellers bought some bread and grapes at the bazaar, but these were not fit food for sick men, but it was all they could get.  At last a Persian merchant heard of their distress; and he came to see them every day, bringing them warm milk and wholesome food:  when they were well enough to be moved, he took them to his own house, and nursed them with the greatest care.