And I do it even now, though I know that the Excellent One is beyond all pinchings and pattings.' He snuffed from his gourd.
'It is well done, Holy One,' Kim murmured, sinking at ease on the cushions, very happy and rather tired.
'And also,' the old man chuckled, 'I write pictures of the Wheel of Life.

Three days to a picture.

I was busied on it--or it may be I shut my eyes a little--when they brought word of thee.

It is good to have thee here: I will show thee my art--not for pride's sake, but because thou must learn.

The Sahibs have not all this world's wisdom.' He drew from under the table a sheet of strangely scented yellow Chinese paper, the brushes, and slab of Indian ink.