To trace this peculiarity of the Yezdi’s character to its source is not easy. Sometimes it appears to be a species of hedging, for it is very difficult to find out the truth in Persia, and a general disbelief in everything may have led the Persian to feel that it is unsafe to stake his all on one theory of the universe. The amount of lying that is done in a town like Yezd baffles description. An Englishman when in doubt tells the truth. A Persian when in doubt tells a lie. This would be more tolerable were it not that a Persian is always in doubt. In Yezd security is a thing unknown, and telling lies becomes part of the instinct of self-preservation. Then again the lies are of a new kind. Lies in England are generally told to deceive people in some particular; in Yezd they are just as frequently told in order to make the very search for truth impossible. When I have had to examine into cases of petty theft amongst schoolboys, I have found that to get at the truth is an almost superhuman task. English boys, if they do not tell the truth, will at least tell as few falsehoods as possible, if for no other reason, to avoid being found out. Persian boys will not only lie on the subject they wish to conceal, but they will tell as many untruths as they can cram into the story, so as to render any attempt at investigation futile. Of course you know that they are lying, but, as they never imagine that you will suspect them of telling the truth, they are not much deterred. The result of this practice is that in the Yezd bazaars, taking together all statements, even the most trivial, that are made by Mussulmans, probably not less than one-third of the speeches made are falsehoods. I do not think that the Persian beggar ever expects to be believed. A woman once came to the house, asking for a quilt because she had none, and her son was ill. To have no quilt, that is, to have no bed-clothes, is by no means an unbelievable state of poverty, and there is no doubt that the woman expected to have her words taken literally. It transpired that her son was quite well, but was taking sanctuary to avoid being molested for a debt. The woman had a perfectly possible quilt, but it was old and patched. She actually brought it to us the next morning, not to prove that after all they were very poor, but to show that in saying she had none she had spoken the truth. Another woman once told me in the street, that she had six orphan children and her husband was sick.