Hereupon he ordered the eunuchs to slide back the reflectors that he might show me the aforementioned instrument of punishment. We stepped out upon a balcony, and I saw in the courtyard below an immense bladder, supported upon two uprights of timber, like the sweep of an old-fashioned well. This bladder is operated as a whip, only it belabors the victim upon the head. It was thus explained to me by His Majesty. “For what crime is this used as a punishment?” I asked. “For those who are unduly given to self-praise,” replied the potentate, “and there are two degrees of penalty, first for those who praise themselves directly, and secondly for those who praise themselves indirectly.” “From what class of your subjects do most of these victims come?” “From all classes,” he continued, “but those who praise themselves frankly and openly are chiefly made up of successful business men, actors and patent medicine doctors; whereas those who are given to praising themselves indirectly, mostly consist of politicians, authors, artists, professors and clergymen; and to this latter class is accorded the most severe punishment.” I observed now that the Excelsior was yawning profusely, and I began to bare my arms and to bow myself out from his presence and to excuse my long visit. “Wait a moment,” he said, “now that you are here, take a look at another invention of mine. There it is in the corner by the hearth.” I turned and saw a large oblong table with three layers of shelves, upon which were rows of bottles with automatic stoppers attached to them. These stoppers or flat corks were manipulated by finger stops and pedals, much the same as an ordinary organ. I should surely have noticed this unique instrument upon my entrance, had it not been for those colored reflectors which cut off the light. “What does your Royal Axilla call that?” I asked, looking at the labels on the bottles. “That,” quoth he, “is my smelling piano. Did it never occur to you that civilized man has been cultivating his ear with musical sounds ever since he was in the stage of savagery, while he has utterly neglected that much more sensitive member, the nose?” This subject seemed to rouse great animation in His Majesty, and he spoke about it with much fluency, as follows: “Take for instance the fact that one never forgets an odor,” he continued, “while a musical sound is scarcely remembered over night. It is a matter of common observation that an odor will recall the scenes or incidents or persons with which it was first perceived. Indeed my chief chemist, whom I have had at my court several decades, is of the belief that the memory of a smell, be it pleasant or disagreeable, is the last thing that the mind retains. I have him compress into those bottles the essences of the principal odors. There now, you have the idea of this invention in a nutshell.” “And can you compose upon this smelling piano?” I asked.