“Why, it didn’t even make him gasp!”

“Gasp—­nonsense; you haven’t been in Persia as long as I have yet, or you wouldn’t say ‘gasp’ even at 95% alcohol.”

But how polite, how complimentary, these French of Asia are, and how imaginative and fanciful their language!  Not having shaved since leaving Teheran, after surveying myself in the glass, I feel called upon, in the interest of fellow-wheelmen elsewhere, to explain to our discerning visitors that all bicyclers are not distinguished from their fellow men by a bronzed and stubby phiz and an all-around vagrom appearance.

The Sartiep strokes his beard and stomach, casts a lingering glance at the above-mentioned green-glass bottle, smiles, and replies:  “Having accomplished so wonderful a journey, you are now prettier with your rough, unshaven face than you ever were before; you can now survey yourself in the looking-glass of fame instead of in a common mirror that reflects all the imperfections of ordinary mortals.”  Having delivered himself of this compliment, the Sartiep’s eye wanders in the direction of the 95% alcohol again, and the next minute is again smacking his lips and complacently stroking his stomach.

In the morning, before I am up, a servant arrives from a Mesh-edi notable named Hadji Mahdi, bringing salaams from his master, and a letter clothed in the fine “apparel diplomatique” of the Orient.  The letter, although in reality nothing more than a request to be allowed to come and see the bicycle, reads in substance as follows:  “Salaams from Hadji Mahdi—­may he be your sacrifice!-to Gray Sahib and the illustrious Sahib who has arrived in Holy Meshed from Teheran, on the wonderful asp-i-awhan, the fame of whose deeds reaches to the ends of the earth.  Bismillah!  May your shadows never grow less!  Your sacrifice’s brother, Hadji Mollah Hassan, whose eyes were gladdened by a sight of the asp-i-awhan Sahib at Shahrood, and who now sends his salaams, telegraphs me—­his unworthy brother—­that upon the Sahib’s arrival in Meshed I should render him any assistance he might need.  Inshallah, with your permission—­may it not be withheld—­your sacrifice will be pleased to call and gladden his eyes with a sight of Gray Sahib and the illustrious Sahib his guest.”

As might have been expected, the advent of a Ferenghi on so strange a vehicle as a bicycle, arriving in the sacred city of Imam Eiza’s sanctuary, arouses universal curiosity; and not only the Sartiep and Hadji Mahdi, but hundreds of big-turbaned Meshedi notables, mollahs, and seyuds are admitted during the day to enjoy the happy privilege of feasting their eyes on the latest proof of the Ferenghis’ wonderful marifet,