June 1st.—General Lazareff has come to Erzeroum to replace General Heimann. The Armenian inhabitants awaited him with impatience, very proud that he was the second commander of the main army of their own nationality. From early morning the whole town was put into a fluster; the native women established themselves upon their roofs at daybreak, wishing to see the new Russian mouchir enter Erzeroum. As I also wished to be present, I accepted readily the Gilberts’ invitation to come on their balcony which looked out into the square where the Guards of Honour, and a great number of officers in grand uniform, had assembled. Towards ten o’clock we heard the clamour of hurras and soon perceived a crowd of inhabitants coming up, followed by two hundred Cossacks with big banners; behind them rode General Lazareff, accompanied by a numerous suite. June 5th.—Kirkor-Effendi Schabanian gave an evening-party to-day. We remained in his fantastic garden, illuminated with many coloured lanterns, till late, admiring the gorgeous costumes of his Asiatic guests who promenaded round a marble fountain full of goldfish. It was all like a scene from the Arabian nights. June 9th.—This morning we have visited the mill of Kireh-Bulak, the prettiest spot in the neighbourhood, situated in a narrow pass about eight miles from town. We brought our luncheon with us, hard boiled eggs, biscuits and salt in an envelope, and ate it with great appetite in this nice, cool resting-place. Large trees grow all around and a rapid torrent falls from high cliffs in a roaring cascade white with foam; the noise of the mill at work sounded close by. June 10th.—To-day a gala banquet was given at the Casino by Ali-Effendi. The most cordial union seemed to reign between the Russians and Mussulmans, but was it all very sincere? At the end of the repast, when the champagne had loosened the tongues and quickened the spirits, Maksoud-Effendi came up to the Persian Consul, glass in hand, and proposed to drink to his health, but the Persian, a water-drinker, like every good Mussulman, refused the toast, at which Maksoud-Effendi took offence, and flying into a passion, dashed the contents of his glass into the face of the astounded Persian and vociferated with furious eyes and face aflame: “Ah, you wouldn’t drink to my health by mere politeness, well, do it now by mere force!” The Consul started up wiping his face and his clothes, muttering a prayer to be purified from the stains of wine.