I had a man-nurse for my children, one Abdul Hamid, by trade a gold lacemaker, a native of Shiraz; he was the quietest and most humble of little men—nearly a dwarf. I was told by him a curious incident in his history. Marrying his cousin, a young and handsome Shirazi, she was not long faithful to him; and his mother, who is usually the master-spirit and guardian of her son’s honour in a Persian household, finding that the lady’s amours were becoming notorious, at length informed her son; there was unfortunately no room for doubt; the husband ran with his woes to his mother and brothers-in-law, respectable artisans; one of these the same evening brought some corrosive sublimate, and the girl’s own mother, her mother-in-law, her brothers, and her husband compelled her to swallow a fatal dose of the drug. Although in a few days the affair was common bazaar talk, no notice was taken of the matter, the thing being looked on as a natural ending to the woman’s intrigue. I asked my man one day if the story were true; he replied, “Oh yes, sahib, it was her fate,” and proceeded to inform me that he was on the best of terms with the family of his late wife. In the garden of Jahn-i-ma (my soul) is the grave of Rich the traveller; he died in Shiraz when on his road home. Close to this garden, in a small cemetery having a mud mosque, is the monolith covering the grave of the poet Hafiz; it is a huge block of Yezd marble beautifully carved with verses from the writings of the poet. The Yezd marble is very similar in appearance to alabaster. It is a favourite place of resort of the literary, who may be frequently seen reading the works of the poet, and smoking or meditating over his tomb. Around him are buried many who look on his works as religious and inspired writings; some, and the major portion of educated Persians, simply consider Hafiz as an Anacreontic dreamer, and his works the ways of wickedness made bright. A mile off is the tomb of Saadi, another poet, the author of the moral tales upon whose teaching the mental course of most Persians is guided. The first story forms the keynote to this system, and explains the otherwise mysterious course pursued by most Orientals, who usually prefer the crooked to the straight. The tale is well known, and I may be permitted to quote it from memory. All these “moral tales” are very concise. It is as follows:—