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AMANULLAH

make Paghman, the summer capital. It was an ideal
situation* The road led fourteen miles out of Kabul to
the foothills. It climbed gently towards the fir-tree
zone, and ended in a little plateau which offered every
natural advantage for the lay-out of a perfect replica
of an Italian garden. There were fountains, shady
walks, formal flower-beds, and a rigid wire fence
surrounding the whole enclosure- The State caf£ took
pride of place at the top of the gardens. It was a strange
architectural mongrel, bastard French and Italian,
with here and there the mosaic of old Persia in its tiled
floor. It had a balcony commanding a view of the
garden. It was the rendezvous of the representatives
of all the strange countries engaged in the building of
the new city.

In the centre of the garden, Amanullah had built a
bandstand! Shades of municipal gardens and seaside
promenades! It was gaudy according to the custom,
ugly according to precedent, and was destined to be the
centre of attraction exactly similar to its models in the
West,

In the garden also were hard iron seats for the elegant
to take their repose. They were used exclusively by
the Europeans. The Afghans, those few of them who
entered the gardens, preferred to lounge on the grass.
But Amanullah, seeing these evidences of formality,
gentility, and acute discomfort, congratulated himself
that he had introduced into his country all the amenities
which flourished in civilised countries, and which he had
never seen. Paghman gardens might have been situated
in any of the pleasure resorts of England, Italy, or
France.

In the cool of the afternoon, the nursemaids would
wheel their charges along the tidy gravel paths, chatter

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