If we would see this rabab mentioned by our Persian author, we have but to look on the right-hand side of the big bass before us, and there behold the identical thing suspended from a hook, like a misfit in a tailor’s shop. But before we begin discoursing upon its history it would be as well to glance at the Chinese fiddle, called the Ur-heen, hanging to the left of the bass. In shape it is almost the counterpart of the ravanastron; the same broomstick neck and fingerboard combined, the same round minute body. Here, however, the resemblance ends, for the body of the Chinese instrument is made of half a cocoanut shell (curiously enough the monkeys’ favourite repast), covered with gazelle skin, while the body of the ravanastron--as though desiring to accentuate its relationship to the violin family--is constructed of a cylinder of sycamore wood hollowed out. It may be remembered that M. Fetis, in his “Notice of A Stradivari,” makes a very decisive remark about the ravanastron: “If we would trace a bow instrument to its source,” says he, “we must assume the most simple form in which it could appear, and such as required no assistance from an art brought to perfection, and such a form we shall find in the ravanastron.” [Illustration: Fig. 3.--RABAB] Accepting this theory then as our basis, we must behold in this insignificant-looking construction (Fig. 1), devoid of classic line or Stradivarius curve, the progenitor of the violin family--or, shall we say: “The _Violoncello_ family”? There is certainly some foundation for giving the deeper instrument precedence; first: the earliest pitch was low, and, second: if this is doubted, evidence comes to hand in the primitive stringed instruments played with a bow being too insecurely constructed to have borne the pressure of a tight--and consequently high-pitched--string. Another significant testimony is also to be found in the tuning of India’s fiddle, the sarange. Its highest string does not exceed middle C, and, besides this, it is held vertically, like the violoncello. But we have hung over this thrice-told tale of India’s supposed contribution to the history of the violoncello overlong, we must turn our attention to the waiting rabab (Fig. 3). Comparing this with the ravanastron, a glance is sufficient to realise the development made in the right direction. Here the length of neck is curtailed, and more attention given to the sound arrangement. The outline of the body partakes no more of the American “meat-can” type, and there is an attempt at assuming those drawn-out corners and exquisite curves which, under the masterly touch of Amati and Stradivarius, finally developed into unassailable perfection. According to the Persian parrot’s story, we might be led to suppose that this was also a Hindu invention, but it is probably more correct to conclude it to be the Arab development of the ravanastron, for truly: “... all Arabia breathes from yonder box.”