Garden parties are, however, often given by Persians who never touch liquor, and they are as enjoyable a form of entertainment as may be. An invitation to one is generally given without any preparation, as during the paying of a call; it is accepted, and forthwith an immediate start is made. A few carpets and pillows are rolled up and placed on a mule, with the samovar or Russian urn in its leather case, and the tea equipage in its travelling box. The cook, on his pony, takes his whole _batterie de cuisine_, and hurries to the garden indicated by his master, probably buying a lamb and a couple of fowls, as he passes through the bazaar. The entertainer, his wife and children too, if we are very intimate, the former on his horse, the latter astride on white donkeys, proceed at a leisurely pace in the direction of the garden; while the servants, all smiles, for they enjoy the outing as much as the family, accompany them on foot or horseback, carrying water-pipes, umbrellas, and odds and ends. On reaching the garden, fruit is eaten; then the whole party roam unrestricted among the shady paths while tea is prepared. This is partaken of, and then a musician, or a singer, or perhaps a story-teller, makes his appearance and diverts us all. Or some servant, who has a good voice, sings or plays on the flute to us. Often a grave and reverend merchant will produce a “tarr,” a species of lute, or a “santoor” (the dulcimer), a kind of harmonica, and astonish us by really good Eastern music. Few will consent to sing; it is _infra dig._ The nightingales sing merrily, and dull care is effectually banished. In these thoroughly family parties, wine or spirits are never introduced. Chess or backgammon (Takht-i-Nadir, the camp of Nadir Shah) are constantly played for a nominal stake of a lamb or fat pullet. The party is collected on a raised daïs in the open air, and sit on carpets or lean on huge pillows. Candles are lighted in the lallahs or Russian candle-lamps; these are convenient, as they are not extinguished by wind. At about nine dinner is brought, after innumerable kalians or water-pipes have been smoked: this is eaten in comparative silence; host, guest, wives, and children, all sitting round the leathern sheet which represents a table, and dipping their hand in the platters. At about ten all retire, the bedding of each is spread in a separate nook, on one’s own carpet—all of course being in the open air—and at dawn one smokes a pipe, drinks a little cup of black coffee, and takes one’s leave. Our host and his guests go about their several businesses, while the women and children and servants generally breakfast in the garden and return home together in the cool of the evening, bringing back fruit and huge bouquets of the moss-rose with them.