The last ten days have been devoted to finishing up my goods for the fancy fair, and I have not touched a pen. Yesterday the fair 'came off,' as they say, and to-day I am so tired I can't do anything. Once more 'my bones, girl, my bones.' There never was so successful a fête. More English than anything I have seen in this country. Giles and Wright went off at seven in the morning with my goods; and at ten Mr. C. came to go down with me. Annandale is a beautiful valley, about two miles off, full of large pine trees. Colonel V. had erected a long booth for the ladies who kept stalls, and there were mottoes and devices over each of them. 'The Bower of Eden' was in the centre. Before we came to the booth, there was a turnpike gate with a canvas cottage and an immense board, 'the Auckland toll bar,' and Captain P. dressed up as an old woman who kept the gate. On one side there was the Red Cow, kept by some of the uncovenanted, who spoke excellent Irish, and whose jokes and brogue were really very good. There was a large tent opposite the booth for G., and in every part of the valley there were private tents sent by careful mothers for their ayahs and children. There were roundabouts for the natives. W. O. and three of the aides-de-camp kept a skittle-ground, with sticks to throw at, and a wheel of fortune, and a lucky bag, which had great success. G. and F. came soon after eleven, and the selling went off with great rapidity. The native servants had had great consultations whether it would be respectful to buy at my stall, and there were only two or three who arrived at that pitch of assurance; but they were all present, dressed in their finest shawls, and they all thought it very amusing. Half an hour nearly cleared off the stalls, and then Mr. C. began selling my drawings by auction, and made excellent fun of it, knowing the history of every native that I had sketched, and also of all the bidders, and he did it so like an auctioneer: 'I have kept this gem till now--I may call it a gem, the portrait of Gholam, the faithful Persian who accompanied Major L. from Persia, from Herât! I may say this is a faithful likeness of a man who has witnessed the siege of Herât. Will that great diplomatist, Major L., who is, I know, anxious to possess this perfect picture, allow me to say eighty rupees, or seventy, or sixty?' 'This next picture is the Rajah of Nahun and his sons, and I think it quite unequalled for brilliancy of colouring. I shall have nothing equal to this lot to offer this morning. I bid thirty rupees for it myself--the surpêche in the rajah's turban is worth the money.' And so he went on, and, I hope, his is the sin of running up the price of the drawings, for I really was quite sorry to see the prices they went at. One group of heads, which only took me three days to do, sold for ninety-five rupees (£9 10_s._), and my twenty drawings fetched 800 rupees. Considering that the whole proceeds of the sale is 3,400 rupees,