But for the horrors of child labour in the carpet trade we must turn to the factories of Kirman. These factories are filled with children from four years old upward, underfed, overworked, living a loveless, joyless, hopeless life. The factories are built without windows lest the children’s attention should be distracted, and the bad air, want of food, and the constantly keeping in one position produce rickets and deformity in nearly all. Of thirty-eight children examined in one factory thirty-six were deformed. One of the Governors of Kirman forbade the employment of children under twelve in the factories, but the order did not last beyond his governorship. The same Governor gave the order still in force, which forbids the employment of children before dawn or after sunset, thus reducing their working hours to an average of twelve hours a day. A recent Governor added to this an order limiting the Friday work to about two and a half hours, “from sunrise to full sunshine,” so now the children share in part the general Friday holiday of Muhammadanism. One of our medical missionaries was called to attend the wife of the owner of one of these factories, and consented to do so on condition he made windows in his factory to allow the children air and light. He objected at first, saying that it would prevent their working, but finally consented, and admitted afterwards that the children did more work with the windows than they had done without them. The factory owners are glad to get the children, for they say children work better than grown-up people at carpet-making, and of course they expect less wages. But how can the parents allow their children to live this cruel life? You will find the answer in the Persian saying that “of every three persons in Kirman, four smoke opium.” The man who takes opium regularly becomes a wreck; first his digestion is ruined, then his heart gets weak and he get bronchitis and other chest troubles, and he become unreliable physically and morally; he is untruthful and deceitful, and when he is once well under the power of the habit, he goes almost mad if he cannot get his opium at the usual time, and would sell his soul for it, and does sell his children. Over and over again comes the terrible story, the father and mother smoke opium; the little deformed child toils through the long days to earn the money that buys it. In the villages the children begin almost as soon as they can run about to take out the sheep and goats, not in green fields, for there are none, but among the scattered plants on the mountain-side or under the village trees. Only the boys are allowed to take the flocks out on the hills at any distance from the village, and on mountains where there are thought to be wolves, even the boys are forbidden to go without a man.