With the aid of the pictures I gave the Armenian vivid descriptions of London and the glories thereof. One day, somewhat to my surprise, he said:-- “Sir, let me see London. If I die then--don’t matter!” The officer who had charge of the Page boys, came to see me; he was a short thick-set man, and sensible. He asked me many questions in surgery, and seemed willing to learn a few simple remedies in case of emergency. I was very glad to teach him. [Sidenote: Generosity of the Amîr.] At this time I was brought very low in the world as regards tobacco. I had been reduced to smoking in a pipe broken-up cigar stumps which, in view of this difficulty, I had carefully saved. Tobacco, except uncured, and to me unsmokable Persian tobacco, was not to be obtained in Mazar. I said to the Armenian, “I shall be cleaned out of tobacco soon--and then, Chaos!” He said, “Sir, I not know Chaos, what is; but Amîr Sahib has plenty of cheroot and cig-rette.” “That is very likely,” I said, “but I haven’t.” “You not care it, I write him, Amîr Sahib, and he give it you. What a few cigar or cig-rette! no-thing!” “No! you must not do that,” I said, “I can’t cadge of His Highness.” “Sir, please you kind, you say nothing. _I_ write, you not write.” Sure enough he did write. I confess I was rather ashamed when His Highness sent me ten boxes of most delicious Turkish cigarettes, four boxes of cigars, and a silver cigar-case and match-box. His Highness had forbidden me to go out till I was quite strong, and it was the 4th of January before I ventured to do so. I went to see Samander and found his leg was progressing satisfactorily. [Sidenote: The First Winter Durbar.] On the 7th, it was a Tuesday, was a military Durbar, and after I had seen Samander and had tea with him, I determined to go on to the Durbar and pay my respects to His Highness: this was at eleven o’clock in the morning. It was the first winter Durbar I had ever been to. The Armenian accompanied me. He was gorgeous to look upon, being attired in a white turban, a yellow leather postîn, and light blue trousers. We walked from Samander’s khirgar along the paths of the garden to the Palace. The trees were white with snow, and great icicles hung from the branches. The sky was grey, and the water and mud by the paths frozen hard. Everyone looked nipped up in the icy wind. In the far distance to the south were the mountains dimly blue. In the open space opposite the Palace was a large crowd of people with petitions to offer or disputes to settle. Near at hand was the Amîr’s guard with fixed bayonets. On each side of a large open window, which reached nearly to the ground, were secretaries and other Court officials. At the window sat His Highness. The Armenian and I skirted the crowd and went towards the window, the crowd very politely making way for us.