It is the fashion to use the striped Aleppo cotton cloth called “Shaitan Baizi” (which means the “white demon”) for garments, and a Sulaimanian outfit is as follows:--A pair of white cotton trousers, very baggy in the legs, but gradually growing narrower towards the ankles, which they embrace tightly. Socks are not worn, but the feet are shod with red leather shoes, of which the toe turns up in a point. The back is often taken up to a tapering flap of several inches long. The undershirt is equally of white cotton, reaching to the hips, and fastening at the neck with a knob of cotton made into a button. The sleeves however, a kind of exaggerated surplice sleeve, hang down in a point reaching the ground, and serve for wrapping up money and papers, for drying the face of water or sweat, and cleaning the nose after it has been emptied by the application of the fingers and a powerful snort. Over these garments a long tunic of cotton cloth, open at the front and reaching to the heels, is brought together by a waistband or belt. The sleeves of this are open from the wrists to near the elbow, permitting them to be easily turned back and rolled up, when the superfluous shirtsleeve is rolled round and tied about the upper arm. If it be cold, a sleeveless waistcoat of thick felt is worn, and an abba, or camel-hair cloak, is the property of every person of any importance. The inferior classes make their abbas of a thin cloth, of a grey or yellow colour. The head-dress is several blue and white handkerchiefs wound about a skull-cap of black cotton cloth, ornamented with flowers worked in silks. The style of head-dress marks to a great extent the different tribes of Kurds. A heavy dagger stuck in the girdle completes the costume for the townsman. This is the dress of the Sulaimanian as well of the Hamavand, Jaf, and other extreme southern tribes, who have discarded the old fantastic garments. The real Kurdish costume, which will be described later, is very different. My dress, however, had to pass somehow, and the muleteer coming up, made the useful remark that if a stranger adopted the customs of a new country, at once he would forfeit the consideration granted him by those he met on the road, which is a very true observation. By sunset we had the tea ready, the little glasses circulated, and, casting our bread and dates on to a common handkerchief, we dined, and then, wrapping ourselves in our cloaks, lay down in the shadow of ancient Nineveh to sleep, none of my companions aware that where we reposed was just under the palace walls of Sennacherib.