A few mornings after receiving the Naib-i-Sultan’s invitation, I happened to be wheeling past the military maidan, and attracted by the sound of martial music inside, determined to wheel in and investigate.  Perhaps in all the world there is no finer military parade ground than in Teheran; it consists of something over one hundred acres of perfectly level ground, forming a square that is walled completely in by alcoved walls and barracks, with gaily painted bala-kkanas over the gates.  The delighted guards at the gate make way and present arms, as they see me approaching; wheeling inside, I am somewhat taken aback at finding a general review of the whole Teheran garrison in progress; about ten thousand men are manoeuvring in squads, companies, and regiments over the ground.

Having, from previous experience on smaller occasions, discovered that my appearance on the incomprehensible “asp-i-awhan” would be pretty certain to temporarily demoralize the troops and create general disorder and inattention, I am for a moment undetermined about whether to advance or retreat.  The acclamations of delight and approval from the nearest troopers at seeing me enter the gate, however, determines me to advance; and I start off at a rattling pace around the square, and then take a zig-zag course through the manoeuvring bodies of men.

The sharp-shooters lying prostrate in the dust, mechanically rise up to gaze; forgetting their discipline, squares of soldiers change into confused companies of inattentive men; simultaneous confusion takes place in straight lines of marching troops, and the music of the bands degenerates into inharmonious toots and discordant squeaks, from the inattention of the musicians.  All along the line the signal runs — not “every Persian is expected to do his duty,” but “the asp-i-awhan Sahib! the asp-i-awhan Sahib!” the whole army is in direful commotion.  In the midst of the general confusion, up dashes an orderly, who requests that I accompany him to the presence of the Commander-in-Chief and staff; which, of course, I readily do, though not without certain misgivings as to my probable reception under the circumstances.  There is no occasion for misgivings, however; the Naib-i-Sultan, instead of being displeased at the interruption to the review, is as delighted at the appearance of “the asp-i-anhan, as is Abdul, the drummer-boy, and he has sent for me to obtain a closer acquaintance.  After riding for their edification, and answering their multifarious questions, I suggest to the Commander-in-Chief that he ought to mount the Shah’s favorite regiment of Cossacks on bicycles.  The suggestion causes a general laugh among the company, and he replies:  “Yes, asp-i-awhan Cossacks would look very splendid on our dress parade here in the maidan; but for scouting over our rough Persian mountains” - and the Naib-i-Sultan finished the sentence with a laugh and a negative shrug of his shoulders.  Two mornings after this I take a spin out on the Doshan Tepe road,