"عبر بلاد فارس على سرج ركوب جانبي" [‎١‎٥‎٩] (٣٦٠/١٩٢)

OUR SOCIAL CIRCLE AT KERMAN
prominent figure on the steep slopes. It was an animated
scene. Scores of horsemen raced helter-skelter in every
direction, shouting in a frenzy of excitement, and so reck
less was the firing on all sides that I was surprised that no
casualties occurred.
Soon after mid-day, lunch was served in a garden of
peach-trees, beside a running stream, the food being spread
on a large carpet around which the Persians sat on their
heels, bending forward nearly double as they ate, to the
great detriment, I should imagine, of their digestions.
They manipulated the various pillaus with much skill,
rolling up balls of meat and rice between their fingers, and
inserting them in their mouths. I was glad, however, that
a few knives and forks, as well as chairs, had been thought
fully provided for my brother and me, thus enabling us to
enjoy the different dishes in comfort. We had a profusion
of grapes, melons, figs and dates for dessert, and I tasted,
for the first time, a sweetmeat called halwa, from Muscat,
a compound of barley-jelly and chopped almonds. There
was no wine, but throughout the meal big glasses of water,
filled to the brim with masses of snow, were handed round.
On the conclusion of the day's sport we accompanied
the Farman Farma to his garden, and the view that here
met my eyes enabled me dimly to realise the charm and
glamour of those earthly Paradises of which I have read
in tales of old romance, where the skies are eternally blue,
the leaves and flowers never fade, and the musical plash
of water wraps every sense in a magic slumber.
Spencer's description of Armida's bower might have
been even more alluring had he seen the fairy picture that
lay before me. The long slope of the garden, from end
to end, was a dazzling, glancing stream of water, broken