EX-KING OF AFGHANISTAN

understand when I took his photograph. Strange, this :
I had thought that all the world by now knew the
significance of the black telescopic box, and the smile
on the face of the photographer.

But " Look pleasant, please ! " meant nothing to the
old mullah.

He did not speak when I said a word to him in Hin-
dustani. I did not expect him to understand, but he
did not even trouble to turn round when I said
" Salaam ! " as I left. He was looking at the strange
phenomenon of the new Afghanistan.

Another interesting visit was to the Russian Lega-
tion. It was a modest, open, double-storeyed house off
the road leading to the Palace, flying the flag of the
sickle and hammer. There was a small annexe. The
garden was unkempt.

I sent up a card, asking to see Stark, the Russian
Minister at Kabul. The reply was a long time coming,
but I knew the answer before I sent the card. The reply
was brought by a dark young man with a pleasant
smile. He spoke in French, and professed himself a
journalist.

He was, it turned out, a representative of the Pravda.
He knew a little English. Would I like to hear it ?
I did, and it consisted of a strange sailor's jargon that
he had picked up, he told me, when he was sailing from
South America to Cardiff on a Welsh boat, after being
thrown out of South America and preparatory to being
thrown out of London with " Arcos." We found a sub-
ject in common, for the newspaper for which I was
working had been instrumental in evicting that organ-
isation.

It was impossible to imagine, he said, that I should
see the Minister. Perhaps, however, since I was there,
I would help him in a little matter 1 I would* since

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