The dry bed of the river—it is only running say for two months in early spring, and is at times for a day or two a raging torrent—is now crossed by a steep bridge, and I canter off to our superintendent’s (Captain St. J⸺) quarters by a road skirting the town ditch, thus avoiding a march through the crowded bazaars. He has kindly ridden out to meet me. Here Shiraz wine is given me for the first time, and I am sadly disappointed; it is intensely bitter, and not very clear (when I first came to Shiraz it was only bottled for sending up country); it is very strong and very genuine however. After some years I got used to it, and cared for no other native wine than what Moore calls “the red weepings of the Shiraz vine,” which rather looks as if he pronounced it Shī-raz, whereas the real sound is Shēē-rarz. Here, too, we get delicious early lamb, for there are in all the places south of Shiraz _two_ lambing seasons in the year, consequently young lamb all the year round; what _we_ call lamb the Persian would call mutton. The extravagant Shirazi will not eat mutton when he can get lamb, and they only kill them before they are weaned; in fact, the early ones are, when ready for the spit, only some six to eight pounds in weight, and consequently very young. Weights differ all over Persia. In Ispahan everything is sold by the Shah maund of thirteen pounds and three-quarters, here in Shiraz is the Tabriz maund[19] of seven pounds. Weighing is done by means of a steelyard for anything over a maund. These steelyards are ingeniously made, one side of the yard having the heavy weights, the other the lower marked on it; and by reversing the hook the position of the fulcrum is altered, and so either side reads correctly with the same weight. Much trickery is employed by the Persians in weighing, and it takes some time to be able to circumvent their various ingenious manœuvres. Local custom also is curious—each article has a special mode of being weighed. Thus in Ispahan one pays for a load of wood of twenty Ispahan (or Shah) maunds, but the woodseller gives twenty-one, and thus five per cent. from the weight is deducted; the same for charcoal and so on. But the wily Ispahani also sells his grass (for the horses) by weight, and prior to his arrival the bundles are carefully dipped in water; it can hardly be called cheating, as they _all_ do it. But it also spoils the grass and makes it liable to ferment, and give one’s horses colic if not consumed at once.