One point, however, I would emphasize again and again. Rug values are staple and there are no bargains to be had. If you want an antique you must pay an antique price, and if you want a modern rug of high quality you must pay proportionately. The only cheap Oriental rugs are imperfect ones.

A friend said to me the other day, with horror in his voice:

"You don't mean to tell me that you would actually advise people to buy 'washed rugs'?"

My answer was promptly, "Yes."

First and foremost comes the fact that the colors of unwashed modern rugs are too crude and the contrasts too violent for Occidental taste. Like the ancient Greek, the Persian loves strong tones and staccato effects.

But American architects and decorators insist on soft tones, elusive harmonies and subtle gradations. These are qualities that many antique Oriental rugs possess preeminently. Cared for tenderly through generations and never bruised with nail-studded shoe heels, their faces have grayed variously, losing sharpness of outline and of contrast, and acquiring the kind of living luster that is seen on the flank of a well-groomed horse.

Unfortunately, the price of small antiques is exceedingly high, while that of large antiques is prohibitive. This is the cause of the attempt to finish modern rugs in antique tones.

The first washing done in Constantinople was of the roughest kind. The rug was plastered with a mixture of mud, lime, and sulphuric acid and then rolled up until the mordants did their work.

The desired effect was quickly gained and for a time some buyers were delighted at the number of large antiques on the market. But before long it was discovered that the process left to the rug only a few months of life, and many dealers had the doubtful pleasure of redeeming spoiled rugs.

This put a quietus on rug washing temporarily and would probably have ended it forever if the American demand had not continued insistent. American buyers came to Constantinople with instructions to purchase antiques at any cost, and, if necessary, to go into the interior - where most of them are about as helpless as a South Sea Islander on the Bowery - and this not through any fault of their own, but because the Oriental has ways of doing business that are distinctly un-American.

What part these American buyers took ill putting rug washing on a proper basis is difficult to say. Several of those most actively concerned never mention washed rugs except in a whisper, while others say that they have merely followed the example of the pioneers.

Be that as it may, to-day rug washing is a flourishing industry in New York as well as in Constantinople and in Persia, and of the vegetable-dyed rugs sold in this city practically all of the larger ones and 50 per cent of the smaller ones have been washed. Aniline-dyed rugs are seldom washed because no method has yet been discovered to "antiquate" them successfully.

Aniline dyes do not grow old gracefully and the consistent opinion of experts is that the continued use of aniline - chemical or coal-tar - dyes would have ruined the industry. Aniline-dyed rugs, instead of improving with age, "rust" and grow blotchy. The wool - out of which aniline dyeing cuts the oil - grows constantly stiffer and harder and dryer. There is no life in it, and the difference in "feel" is apparent even to the amateur and is conclusive to the expert. The least trustworthy rugs in this respect are those from India and from Turkey, but in the latter country, at least, the condition of things is rapidly improving. The frequent use of European designs has also injured the reputation of rugs from Turkey and India.

Under no circumstances, then, purchase a rug dyed with anilines. Consult reputable dealers who can "make good" if themselves deceived, as will sometimes happen, and make sure that the blues are made from indigo, yellows from Persian berries, greens from yellow and blue, reds from madder, etc., etc.

If the dealer shows you rugs at the staple prices given in Chapter III, you are right to assume that they are modern. If the tones are soft and agreeable, you may also assume that they have been washed.

Why some dealers continue to deceive their customers on the subject of washed rugs I cannot understand. If people only knew that proper washing is a legitimate form of finishing and does not injure the fabric, they would be glad to pay the extra price that washed rugs cost - from five cents to one dollar a foot, a fair average price being twelve and one-half cents a foot. And they would not be tempted to search for "antiques at a song" among the badly washed and second-class stocks of the itinerant auctioneer.

Washing is a most interesting process that requires skill and experience of the highest type, and that has been brought to great perfection in the United States. It not only grays - either white-grays or black-grays according to the conditions - the colors, and hatches them; it also removes the surplus color and sets the rest. In other words, after washing, vegetable colors are there to stay.

It is, I believe, still a favorite diversion for "cozy-corner editors" gravely to inform their readers that the way to test a rug for aniline dyes is to rub it with a handkerchief that has been wet in the mouth; if any loose color comes off, the rug must be wrong.

The opposite is true. Aniline dyes are comparatively fast and the test you can easily try for yourself on any American carpet. But many vegetable-dyed rugs run when water is applied, while Bokharas "bleed like a stuck pig." To prevent them from running, they must be carefully washed.

A case in point is that of a rich merchant who bought for his dining-room a fine Gorevan rug that by some strange chance had not been washed. One day somebody spilt a cup of coffee on it and made a nasty splotch of colors. The merchant promptly sent the rug back to the dealer and the dealer put it up to the importer as an instance of aniline dyes.

This, of course, was promptly denied, the facts were explained, and the rug was sent to the washer who eliminated the surplus dyes, leaving the rest fast, and at the same time mellowing the tones. The rug has been back in that dining-room now for five years and is the pride of the owner's heart.

Avoid badly washed rugs, or, if you do buy them, do not pay more than they are worth. All washings are not successful. Sometimes two rugs similar in weave and color will be differently affected. One will come out in soft tones with a velvet surface, the other with colors blotched and mixed. The value of the first may be doubled, of the second cut in two.

I saw a Tabriz the other day that was worth $200 before washing. After washing, the dealer offered it to me for $20, and this was not because the fabric had in any way been injured. The wear was still there and the "feel" of the surface was good; but the colors were piebald.

Another Tabriz, landed here, that cost about $ 1,000, was so much improved by washing as to sell quickly for $2,500.

Rugs that are particularly dangerous for the average customer are those the fabric of which has been injured in the washing. This is due to cheap washing as well as to washers who do not understand the business. There are importers and dealers - not many - who crowd down the price they pay for washing below a living scale and then seem surprised because their customers complain a year or two later.

Some people say they can tell a washed rug because washing is only skin deep. This is another fallacy. Washing is sometimes skin deep, but it often affects the whole depth of the pile. With antique rugs it is exactly the same. Age touches only the surface of some but permeates the whole of others, according to the depth of the pile, the fineness of the weave, the way in which the rug has been used, etc.

The first requisite in a fine rug is life. Here the analogy with furs is interesting. Most of us need no education or training to make us understand that if, in curing, the oil and the life have been taken out of a sealskin or sable, irreparable harm has been done. With rugs it is quite the same. If the wool has not been washed and dyed in the most perfect manner, the weaver may exercise his utmost skill, may express in the most spirited manner his interpretation of a pattern famous for centuries - the result will be disappointing, the surface of the rug will be harsh and unsympathetic to the eye and to the hand.

If you stroke the back of a self-respecting cat that with indefatigable care keeps its fur licked into glossiness, the touch of the fur sends electric thrills through the fingers; and if, in cold dry weather, in spite of remonstrances, you rub a fine Oriental rug against the nap, actual electric sparks will be developed.

This is one of the most important tests of quality in a rug. The feeling of electric smoothness should result from rubbing with the nap, of spirited remonstrance from rubbing against it.

This, however, is not a test for age. It is true that as the years pass not only do the colors of a rug that is loved and cared for grow softer, but the nap also develops richer life - a super-silkiness to look and touch.

It is also true that years bring to the surface the inner characteristics of a rug, and make it an individuality, entirely unlike any other rug in the world - when once seen, never to be forgotten. But just as all babies look much alike, so infant rugs resemble each other in spite of differences of wool, weave, color, pattern. It is only when the abrashes appear that the rug can claim to have reached its majority.