In Hamadan the vines are grown on the edges of deep trenches; the snow filling these trenches preserves the roots, while the vines themselves are often protected with earth during winter. In the south of Persia, and also in the north, the very slightest cultivation is employed, yet in good years the harvests of every kind are very heavy. In all cases it is the abundance, or the reverse, of the supply of water that regulates the amount of harvest. Given plenty of water, the harvest must be large. The melon has been spoken of in another place. The water-melons and the white-fleshed melons of Gourgab, near Ispahan, are the finest in the world. I have seen melons weighing twenty-eight pounds of the former variety; these were, however, phenomenal. In the orchards of Ispahan clover is sown under the trees to break the fall of the fruit, which is only plucked when a choice dish of it is required as a present. The usual way is simply to pick up the droppings. The Persian never thins the fruit. I have often recommended their doing so, but on two occasions when I tried the experiment and marked the trees, it did not succeed: the trees where the fruit had been thinned merely giving fewer fruit, _of the same size_ as the unthinned trees under the same conditions and of the same variety. Nothing can be more delightful than these cool and silent gardens in the summer in Ispahan. The thick foliage keeps out the sun, and the deep green of the short clover refreshes the eye. Tea in a garden, with pipes and fruit, is a pleasant way of spending a warm afternoon. Unfortunately the Persian or Armenian usually looks on a fruit garden merely as a good place to get drunk in, and the frequent sounds of music and singing show the passer-by that this idea is being carried out.