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EX-KING OF AFGHANISTAN

They have hung garlands round the statue of the Afghan
lion which strangles so realistically the lion of Britain.
" To the great Afghan victory," says the legend under-
neath, and there are many here who picture a stand-up
fight with the might of Afghanistan conquering the
armies of England in open battle.

(The victory was the famous ambush of the Khyber.
But it was not complete, for one man out of thousands
struggled through the vale of death to tell the tale.)

Here come more police, marching to the gardens.
Their duties are many to-day, and only last night I
was nearly arrested for failing to be sufficiently European.
For I could not read Pushtu, and the notice at the gate
was in Pushtu. " Every visitor to the gardens," it
meant, " must wear a hat."

I did not wear a hat. I walked in the Eastern style.
It was nearly dark, and a topee becomes wearisome.
At dusk I discarded my topee before going to the cafe
in the gardens.

And the way of Westernisation is hard. Amanullah
had remarked that in Rome, Paris, Berlin, Venice, and
London, men wore hats when outdoors. Very well,
then, so would the citizens of the new Afghanistan*
And here was I, who should know how to behave,
bareheaded in the elaborate gardens of the new
city of Paghman, Amanullah's Western gift to the
East.

That cost two rupees (Afghan ratio).

The crowds were surging up the road now. More
troops, their lungs exhausted now, tramped silently up
the road. Bugling was over.. The children's party had
begun.

I found Pierri in the gardens, gazing sadly at a
German nursemaid in charge of strange German-Afghan
children. The Berlin blonde, wife of the Afghan

L 161