and sullen grey sky, that boded ill for the future. The cold was
intense. Although dressed in the thickest of tweeds and sheepskin
jacket, sable pelisse, enormous "bourka," and high felt boots, it was
all I could do to keep warm even when going at a hand gallop, varied
every hundred yards or so by a desperate "peck" on the part of my
pony.

The first stage, Koudoum, five farsakhs from Résht, was reached about
three o'clock in the afternoon. This was my first experience of a Chapar
khaneh. The Shagird informed us that it was considered a very good one,
and was much frequented by Europeans in summer-time--presumably,
judging from the holes in the roof, for the sake of coolness. Let me
here give the reader a brief description of the accommodation provided
for travellers by his Imperial Majesty the Shah. The Koudoum Chapar
khaneh is a very fair example of the average Persian post-house.

Imagine a small one-storied building, whitewashed, save where wind
and rain have disclosed the brown mud beneath. A wooden ladder (with
half the rungs missing) leads to the guest-chamber, a large bare
room, devoid of furniture of any kind, with smoke-blackened walls
and rotten, insecure flooring. A number of rats scamper away at our
approach. I wonder what on earth they can find to eat, until Gerôme
points out a large hole in the centre of the apartment. This affords
an excellent view of the stables, ten or twelve feet below, admitting,
at the same time, a pungent and overpowering odour of manure and
ammonia. A smaller room, a kind of ante-chamber, leads out of this. As
it is partly roofless, I seek, but in vain, for a door to shut out the
icy cold blast. Further search in the guest-room reveals six large
windows, or rather holes, for there are no shutters, much less
window-panes. It is colder here, if anything, than outside, for the