There is a regular Persian quarter in Erzeroum, and I am not suffered to stroll through it without being initiated into the fundamental difference between the character of the Persians and the Turks.  When an Osmanli is desirous of seeing me ride the bicycle, he goes honestly and straightforwardly to work at coaxing and worrying; except in very rare instances they have seemed incapable of resorting to deceit or sharp practice to gain their object.  Not so childlike and honest, however, are our new acquaintances, the Persians.  Several merchants gather round me, and pretty soon they cunningly begin asking me how much I will sell the bicycle for. " Fifty liras,” I reply, seeing the deep, deep scheme hidden beneath the superficial fairness of their observations, and thinking this will quash all further commercial negotiations.  But the wily Persians are not so easily disposed of as this.  “Bring it round and let us see how it is ridden,” they say, " and if we like it we will purchase it for fifty liras, and perhaps make you a present besides.”  A Persian would rather try to gain an end by deceit than by honest and above-board methods, even if the former were more trouble.  Lying, cheating, and deception is the universal rule among them; honesty and straightforwardness are unknown virtues.  Anyone whom they detect telling the truth or acting honestly they consider a simpleton unfit to transact business.  The missionaries and their families are at present tenting out, five miles south of the city, in a romantic little ravine called Kirk-dagheman, or the place of the forty mills; and on Saturday morning I receive a pressing invitation to become their guest during the remainder of my stay.  The Erzeroum mission is represented by Mr. Chambers, his brother-now absent on a tour-their respective families, and Miss Powers.  Yusuph Effendi accompanies us out to the camp on a spendid Arab steed, that curvets gracefully the whole way.  Myself and the-other missionary people (bicycle work at Sivas, and again at Erzeroum) ride more sober and deco-ous animals.  Kirkdagheman is found to be near the entrance to a pass over the Palantokan Mountains.  Half a dozen small tents are pitched beneath the only grove of trees for many a mile around.  A dancing stream of crystal water furnishes the camp with an abundance of that necessary, as also a lavish supply of such music as babbling brooks coursing madly over pebbly beds are wont to furnish.  To this particular section of the little stream legendary lore has attached a story which gives the locality its name, Kirkdagheman.