The Huttig news., 1909-12-18
From Beggar to
 Spy The Story of a Persian Maid.

Begging IS popular profession Tn Persia. Persians learn 1t young, and ones progress through the narrow streets of Tabriz is everlastingly in commoded by the persistent demands of infant opportunists. For some an occasional nickel and much hard Ian guage are sufficient; for others neither largesse nor abuse will suffice. With third class it is possible to contract for peace. 2-kran piece f14 pence) paid regularly once month will satis, fly the demands upon your charity. In this latter class was Dowlati. Now, the dirtiest, was certainly the prettest child 1 have seen. She may have been eight or nine. Perhaps even, she was ten; but in spite of the grIme which incrusted her she was perfect of face and form. Imagine a small. graceful figure inadequately shrouded in fad ed blue cloth-a cloth that was skirt, vest and head cover in one, and that was so tattered and patched that the fullness of a velvet skin, white as Saxon's, showed through it every where.
 Imagine, peeping through this shift, little oval face of perfect symmetry; cheeks like ripe peaches; pair of black, lustrous eyes, shaded with inch black lashes; a tangle of matted hair; a sweet, red mouth-and you see Dow, lati the beggar maid, with whom I compounded for silver two-kran piece month. But my contract did not obliterate the child. saw her daily. While she honestly refrained from pestering me, yet she looked at me so wistfully and piled the silent graces of her sex so subtly, that I, being as- tonished at the natural coquetry of one so young and untamed, often fell victim to her silent pleading.
 Then for week I missed Dowlati All her compeers were there in the small bazar. but there was no Dowlati Could she have fallen victim to some stray bullet during the street fighting? Had her guardians, if she had any. perceived her beauty and budding womanhood, and hastily withdrawn her from the public gaze, to languish behind the thick veil that standardizes a woman's virtue in Persia? None could tell me. What was one beggar maid more or less in the streets of Tabriz?
 On Sunday the third instailment of her contract payment was due As l left my gate, there in the sun, lean. ing against the bright buff wall, stood Dowlati. The same smiling, unveiled, ill-clad, modest Dowalti Where had she been? Dowlati was adventurous Her trade suffered from overproduc ton in the town. She had begged out new claim" by the small tent town that had sprung up about the royalist camp outside Tabriz. She had just come in that I might fulfi!l my con. tract. She took the rough struck coin, beamed on me and disappeared Poor little atom, l was never to see ber smile again.
 Hassan Ali shrugged his shoulders There is no knowing what will hap pen to her out in the Shah's camp This is Persia, and Karadagh horse men respect not even children of ten, der age. But what does one beggar maid more or less matter It is from their ranks that we recruit all that you in the west call infamous. She is not too young; this is Persia. Yes!"
 They have caught a spy Yesi' Hassan Ali sat down in his chair with all that awkwardness which people accustomed to sit on their heels usual ly exhibit in European surroundings
 What will they do to hm?"
 Spies do not live long at these times. 1t was one of these beggars Yes. She was carrying messages regu larly between the royalists under pro Mujtehids in Devachi. Yesl"
 Poor thing!' I unused and gave the matter no further thought until the evening. Then l happened to pass the Maragha gate. A crowd was col lected and two Americans with cam were trying to make the nest of the failing light. My gulam, a sturdy fel low. pushed lane for me that might pass the gate. What grewsome sight met my eyes! Suspended, head down ward, from the coping of the arch was naked female figure. A strip of olt blue cloth passed about the legs bu rendered the attempt at decency in decent. I will not harrow your feel ings further. As I gazed uron tho distorted features I realized that Dow lati's contract with me had been ter minated. Never again should I set this beautiful child shrinking shyls against the mud wall that faced my gate. A spy! So young and so beau tiful, and, let us hope. so innocent But this is Persia What does a beg gar girl more or less matter!
 Pronunciation of Caesar, cieere.