appreciates a joke. Most of the puns were too involved for me to follow,
but there was always a certain amount of slap-stick comedy that could be
readily understood. Then there was dancing--as a whole monotonous and
mediocre; but there was one old man who was a remarkable performer, and
would have been appreciated on any stage in the world. The topical songs
invariably amused me--they were so universal in spirit. The chorus of one
which was a great hit ran: "Haido, haido, rahweni passak!" "I say, I say,
show me your pass." There had been much trouble with spies and every one
was required to provide himself with a certificate of good conduct and to
show it on demand. It was to this that the song referred.

Captain C.G. Lloyd was my companion on many rambles among the natives. He
had been stationed in Burma and India for many years, and was a good
Persian scholar. Like every one who has knocked about to any extent among
native peoples, his career had not been lacking in incident. I remember on
one occasion asking him why it was that he never joined me in a cup of
coffee when we stopped at a coffee-house. He replied that he had always
been wary of coffee since a man with him was poisoned by a cup which was
intended for him.

I always looked forward to a trip to Baghdad, for it gave me a chance to
mingle in a totally different life from that which daily surrounded me,
and temporarily, at least, forget about the war in which the world was
plunged. Still, the morning set to leave invariably found me equally glad
to shove off once more into the great expanses of the desert.

VII

THE ATTACK ON THE PERSIAN FRONT

When I reached headquarters after the attack on the Euphrates front, I was
expecting to hear that my transfer to France had gone through and receive
orders to proceed thither immediately. It had always been my intention to
try to join the American army once it began to take a real part in the
war, and for some time past I had been casting about in my mind for the
best method to carry out my plans. When affairs looked so very black for
the Allied forces in March and April, 1918, I decided that France was the
place where every one, who could by any possibility manage it, should be.
General Gillman, the chief of staff, had on more than one occasion shown
himself a good friend, and I determined to once more task his kindness. He
said that he thought he could arrange for my transfer to France, and that
once the