In the afternoon, at half-past four, when I went again to see him, His Highness seemed to have recovered somewhat from the blood-letting, and was in very good spirits. He related many interesting details of his life when he was in exile in Samarcànd and Tashkend. He told me that, after having read up the ancient Greek system of medicine as set forth in the Persian books at his command, he practised as a Physician among the natives of Russian Turkestan: that in his spare time he worked at the forge to learn the manufacture of war materials: that he learnt the details of gunpowder manufacture, and even worked at the more delicate and artistic handicraft of the goldsmith. He said that he tried to learn drawing, knowing that the art can be applied to so many uses, but that he never was able to succeed. He praised my capabilities in that line in the complimentary language of an Oriental, and asked me to show those in the room how one began a drawing. [Sidenote: Drawing and Painting.] I asked what should I draw? He left that entirely to me. A paper and pencil being brought, I made a sketch of a man’s head, and handed it to His Highness. He looked at it critically, and said that the only improvement he could suggest was that the eyebrows should be a little heavier. After I had corrected this he approved entirely, and a Page boy took the sketch round to every one in the room. “Wah, wah!” they said, in admiration. The King had approved; the Courtiers admired. His Highness then said that the only thing he could ever draw was a tree in the winter-time. I asked him if he would honour us by showing us how a tree should be drawn. He took the paper and pencil and drew two trees excellently. I intended to have asked His Highness to give me the sketch, for it was really drawn for my benefit, but one of the Courtiers was too clever for me, and he annexed it. I did not like to ask then, for I knew the man would get into trouble if I did.