In the course of my journeying in Persia, I generally found excellent quarters in the village houses. The rather mean outer appearance of the dwellings conveys the idea of poor accommodation within, but the reality is a pleasing disclosure of plain but well-carpeted rooms, with dados of matting or felt for the backs of the sitters by the wall. I always looked out for village lodgings when travelling off the main roads, and in wintry weather they were very comfortable from their open well-built clay fireplaces giving out heat without the nuisance of smoke. On these occasions I had ample opportunity to observe the every-day life of the people, and I was struck with much which showed that their manners and ways had been favourably touched and turned by a softening civilization of old date. I also there saw clear evidence of the origin of the Eastern shoe question, a matter which has often given rise to warm discussion in Persia and India; I allude to the removal of shoes on entering the inner rooms of a house. In India it is taken to imply inferiority, and since the establishment of British supremacy the custom has never been complied with by a European except in cases of personal employment in a native State. I remember an instance in point when a sergeant piper of a Highland regiment took service with one of the Punjab Sikh chiefs, to instruct a bagpipe band which the Rajah had formed in admiration of Scottish Highland music. In the contract paper which set forth in detail the duties, pay, and allowances of the instructor, the sergeant expressly stipulated that he should not be required to remove his shoes on entering the Rajah's room when a European was present. The origin of the custom of removing the shoes was clearly to avoid soiling the carpets in the house or tent, on which the inmates sat, ate, and slept.