{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_30577/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_30577","id":"gutenberg_30577","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/30577","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Folklore -- Turkey","Tales -- Turkey"],"text":"Produced by Ritu Aggarwal and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was\nproduced from images generously made available by The\nInternet Archive/American Libraries.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                       TOLD IN THE COFFEE HOUSE\n\n\n\n\n                       Told in the Coffee House\n\n                             Turkish Tales\n\n\n                    Collected and done into English\n                                  by\n                     CYRUS ADLER AND ALLAN RAMSAY\n\n\n                               New York\n                         The Macmillan Company\n                     London: Macmillan & Co., Ltd.\n                                 1898\n\n                         _All rights reserved_\n\n\n                           COPYRIGHT, 1898,\n                       By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.\n\n\n                             Norwood Press\n                 J. S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith\n                         Norwood Mass. U.S.A.\n\n\n\n\n                               PREFACE\n\n\nIn the course of a number of visits to Constantinople, I became much\ninterested in the tales that are told in the coffee houses. These are\nusually little more than rooms, with walls made of small panes of\nglass. The furniture consists of a tripod with a contrivance for\nholding the kettle, and a fire to keep the coffee boiling. A carpeted\nbench traverses the entire length of the room. This is occupied by\nturbaned Turks, their legs folded under them, smoking nargilehs or\nchibooks or cigarettes, and sipping coffee. A few will be engaged in a\ngame of backgammon, but the majority enter into conversation, at first\nonly in syllables, which gradually gives rise to a general discussion.\nFinally, some sage of the neighborhood comes in, and the company\nappeals to him to settle the point at issue. This he usually does by\ntelling a story to illustrate his opinion. Some of the stories told on\nthese occasions are adaptations of those already known in Arabic and\nPersian literature, but the Turkish mind gives them a new setting and\na peculiar philosophy. They are characteristic of the habits, customs,\nand methods of thought of the people, and for this reason seem worthy\nof preservation.\n\nTwo of these tales have been taken from the Armenian, and were\nreceived from Dr. K. Ohannassian of Constantinople. For one, _The\nMerciful Khan_, I am indebted to Mr. George Kennan. None of them has\nbeen translated from any book or manuscript, and all are, as nearly as\npracticable, in the form in which they are usually narrated. Most of\nthe stories have been collected by Mr. Allan Ramsay, who, by a long\nresidence in Constantinople, has had special opportunities for\nlearning to know the modern Turk. It is due to him, however, to say\nthat for the style and editing he is in no wise responsible, and that\nall sins of omission and commission must be laid at my door.\n\n                                                     CYRUS ADLER.\n  COSMOS CLUB, WASHINGTON,\n     February 1, 1898.\n\n\n\n\n                               CONTENTS\n\n\n                                                                PAGE\n  HOW THE HODJA SAVED ALLAH                                        1\n  BETTER IS THE FOLLY OF WOMAN THAN THE WISDOM OF MAN             13\n  THE HANOUM AND THE UNJUST CADI                                  23\n  WHAT HAPPENED TO HADJI, A MERCHANT OF THE BEZESTAN              29\n  HOW THE JUNKMAN TRAVELLED TO FIND TREASURE IN HIS OWN YARD      35\n  HOW CHAPKIN HALID BECAME CHIEF DETECTIVE                        43\n  HOW COBBLER AHMET BECAME THE CHIEF ASTROLOGER                   52\n  THE WISE SON OF ALI PASHA                                       65\n  THE MERCIFUL KHAN                                               73\n  KING KARA-KUSH OF BITHYNIA                                      77\n  THE PRAYER RUG AND THE DISHONEST STEWARD                        80\n  THE GOOSE, THE EYE, THE DAUGHTER, AND THE ARM                   84\n  THE FORTY WISE MEN                                              89\n  HOW THE PRIEST KNEW THAT IT WOULD SNOW                         103\n  WHO WAS THE THIRTEENTH SON?                                    107\n  PARADISE SOLD BY THE YARD                                      120\n  JEW TURNED TURK                                                126\n  THE METAMORPHOSIS                                              130\n  THE CALIF OMAR                                                 138\n  KALAIDJI AVRAM OF BALATA                                       140\n  HOW MEHMET ALI PASHA OF EGYPT ADMINISTERED JUSTICE             144\n  HOW THE FARMER LEARNED TO CURE HIS WIFE: A TURKISH AESOP        148\n  THE LANGUAGE OF BIRDS                                          153\n  THE SWALLOW'S ADVICE                                           156\n  WE KNOW NOT WHAT THE DAWN MAY BRING FORTH                      158\n  OLD MEN MADE YOUNG                                             161\n  THE BRIBE                                                      165\n  HOW THE DEVIL LOST HIS WAGER                                   169\n  THE EFFECTS OF RAKI                                            172\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE HODJA SAVED ALLAH\n\n\nNot far from the famous Mosque Bayezid an old Hodja kept a school, and\nvery skilfully he taught the rising generation the everlasting lesson\nfrom the Book of Books. Such knowledge had he of human nature that by\na glance at his pupil he could at once tell how long it would take him\nto learn a quarter of the Koran. He was known over the whole Empire as\nthe best reciter and imparter of the Sacred Writings of the Prophet.\nFor many years this Hodja, famed far and wide as the Hodja of Hodjas,\nhad taught in this little school. The number of times he had recited\nthe Book with his pupils is beyond counting; and should we attempt to\nconsider how often he must have corrected them for some misplaced\nword, our beards would grow gray in the endeavor.\n\nSwaying to and fro one day as fast as his old age would let him, and\nreciting to his pupils the latter part of one of the chapters, Bakara,\ndivine inspiration opened his inward eye and led him to pause at the\nfollowing sentence: \"And he that spends his money in the ways of Allah\nis likened unto a grain of wheat that brings forth seven sheaves, and\nin each sheaf an hundred grains; and Allah giveth twofold unto whom He\npleaseth.\" As his pupils, one after the other, recited this verse to\nhim, he wondered why he had overlooked its meaning for so many years.\nFully convinced that anything either given to Allah, or in the way\nthat He proposes, was an investment that brought a percentage\nundreamed of in known commerce, he dismissed his pupils, and putting\nhis hand into his bosom drew forth from the many folds of his dress a\nbag, and proceeded to count his worldly possessions.\n\nCarefully and attentively he counted and then recounted his money, and\nfound that if invested in the ways of Allah it would bring a return of\nno less than one thousand piasters.\n\n\"Think of it,\" said the Hodja to himself, \"one thousand piasters! One\nthousand piasters! Mashallah! a fortune.\"\n\nSo, having dismissed his school, he sallied forth, his bag of money in\nhis hand, and began distributing its contents to the needy that he met\nin the highways. Ere many hours had passed the whole of his savings\nwas gone. The Hodja was very happy; for now he was the creditor in\nAllah's books for one thousand piasters.\n\nHe returned to his house and ate his evening meal of bread and olives,\nand was content.\n\nThe next day came. The thousand piasters had not yet arrived. He ate\nhis bread, he imagined he had olives, and was content.\n\nThe third day came. The old Hodja had no bread and he had no olives.\nHe suffered the pangs of hunger. So when the end of the day had come,\nand his pupils had departed to their homes, the Hodja, with a full\nheart and an empty stomach, walked out of the town, and soon got\nbeyond the city walls.\n\nThere, where no one could hear him, he lamented his sad fate, and the\ngreat calamity that had befallen him in his old age.\n\nWhat sin had he committed? What great wrong had his ancestors done,\nthat the wrath of the Almighty had thus fallen on him, when his\nearthly course was well-nigh run?\n\n\"Ya! Allah! Allah!\" he cried, and beat his breast.\n\nAs if in answer to his cry, the howl of the dreaded Fakir Dervish came\nover across the plain. In those days the Fakir Dervish was a terror in\nthe land. He knocked at the door, and it was opened. He asked, and\nreceived food. If refused, life often paid the penalty.\n\nThe Hodja's lamentations were now greater than ever; for should the\nDervish ask him for food and the Hodja have nothing to give, he would\ncertainly be killed.\n\n\"Allah! Allah! Allah! Guide me now. Protect one of your faithful\nfollowers,\" cried the frightened Hodja, and he looked around to see if\nthere was any one to rescue him from his perilous position. But not a\nsoul was to be seen, and the walls of the city were five miles\ndistant. Just then the howl of the Dervish again reached his ear, and\nin terror he flew, he knew not whither. As luck would have it he came\nupon a tree, up which, although stiff from age and weak from want, the\nHodja, with wonderful agility, scrambled and, trembling like a leaf,\nawaited his fate.\n\nNearer and nearer came the howling Dervish, till at last his long hair\ncould be seen floating in the air, as with rapid strides he preceded\nthe wind upon his endless journey.\n\nOn and on he came, his wild yell sending the blood, from very fear, to\nunknown parts of the poor Hodja's body and leaving his face as yellow\nas a melon.\n\nTo his utter dismay, the Hodja saw the Dervish approach the tree and\nsit down under its shade.\n\nSighing deeply, the Dervish said in a loud voice, \"Why have I come\ninto this world? Why were my forefathers born? Why was anybody born?\nOh, Allah! Oh, Allah! What have you done! Misery! Misery! Nothing but\nmisery to mankind and everything living. Shall I not be avenged for\nall the misery my father and my father's fathers have suffered? I\nshall be avenged.\"\n\nStriking his chest a loud blow, as if to emphasize the decision he had\ncome to, the Dervish took a small bag that lay by his side, and slowly\nproceeded to untie the leather strings that bound it. Bringing forth\nfrom it a small image, he gazed at it a moment and then addressed it\nin the following terms:\n\n\"You, Job! you bore much; you have written a book in which your\nhistory is recorded; you have earned the reputation of being the most\npatient man that ever lived; yet I have read your history and found\nthat when real affliction oppressed you, you cursed God. You have made\nmen believe, too, that there is a reward in this life for all the\nafflictions they suffer. You have misled mankind. For these sins no\none has ever punished you. Now I will punish you,\" and taking his\nlong, curved sword in his hand he cut off the head of the figure.\n\nThe Dervish bent forward, took another image and, gazing upon it with\na contemptuous smile, thus addressed it:\n\n\"David, David, singer of songs of peace in this world and in the world\nto come, I have read your sayings in which you counsel men to lead a\nrighteous life for the sake of the reward which they are to receive. I\nhave learned that you have misled your fellow-mortals with your songs\nof peace and joy. I have read your history, and I find that you have\ncommitted many sins. For these sins and for misleading your fellowmen\nyou have never been punished. Now I will punish you,\" and taking his\nsword in his hand he cut off David's head.\n\nAgain the Dervish bent forward and brought forth an image which he\naddressed as follows:\n\n\"You, Solomon, are reputed to have been the wisest man that ever\nlived. You had command over the host of the Genii and could control\nthe legion of the demons. They came at the bidding of your signet\nring, and they trembled at the mysterious names to which you gave\nutterance. You understood every living thing. The speech of the beasts\nof the field, of the birds of the air, of the insects of the earth,\nand of the fishes of the sea, was known unto you. Yet when I read your\nhistory I found that in spite of the vast knowledge that was\nvouchsafed unto you, you committed many wrongs and did many foolish\nthings, which in the end brought misery into the world and destruction\nunto your people; and for all these no one has ever punished you. Now\nI will punish you,\" and taking his sword he cut off Solomon's head.\n\nAgain the Dervish bent forward and brought forth from the bag another\nfigure, which he addressed thus:\n\n\"Jesus, Jesus, prophet of God, you came into this world to atone, by\ngiving your blood, for the sins of mankind and to bring unto them a\nreligion of peace. You founded a church, whose history I have studied,\nand I see that it set fathers against their children and brethren\nagainst one another; that it brought strife into the world; that the\nlives of men and women and children were sacrificed so that the rivers\nran red with blood unto the seas. Truly you were a great prophet, but\nthe misery you caused must be avenged. For it no one has yet punished\nyou. Now I will punish you,\" and he took his sword and cut off Jesus'\nhead.\n\nWith a sorrowful face the Dervish bent forward and brought forth\nanother image from the bag.\n\n\"Mohammed,\" he said, \"I have slain Job, David, Solomon, and Jesus.\nWhat shall I do with you? After the followers of Jesus had shed much\nblood, their religion spread over the world, was acceptable unto man,\nand the nations were at peace. Then you came into the world, and you\nbrought a new religion, and father rose against father, and brother\nrose against brother; hatred was sown between your followers and the\nfollowers of Jesus, and again the rivers ran red with blood unto the\nseas; and you have not been punished. For this I will punish you. By\nthe beard of my forefathers, whose blood was made to flow in your\ncause, you too must die,\" and with a blow the head of Mohammed fell to\nthe ground.\n\nThen the Dervish prostrated himself to the earth, and after a silent\nprayer rose and brought forth from the bag the last figure. Reverently\nhe bowed to it, and then he addressed it as follows:\n\n\"Oh, Allah! The Allah of Allahs. There is but one Allah, and thou art\nHe. I have slain Job, David, Solomon, Jesus, and Mohammed for the\nfolly that they have brought into the world. Thou, God, art all\npowerful. All men are thy children, thou createst them and bringest\nthem into the world. The thoughts that they think are thy thoughts. If\nall these men have brought all this evil into the world, it is thy\nfault. Shall I punish them and allow thee to go unhurt? No. I must\npunish thee also,\" and he raised his sword to strike.\n\nAs the sword circled in the air the Hodja, secreted in the tree,\nforgot the fear in which he stood of the Dervish. In the excitement of\nthe moment he cried out in a loud tone of voice: \"Stop! Stop! He owes\nme one thousand piasters.\"\n\nThe Dervish reeled and fell senseless to the ground. The Hodja was\novercome at his own words and trembled with fear, convinced that his\nlast hour had arrived. The Dervish lay stretched upon his back on the\ngrass like one dead. At last the Hodja took courage. Breaking a twig\nfrom off the tree, he threw it down upon the Dervish's face, but the\nDervish made no sign. The Hodja took more courage, removed one of his\nheavy outer shoes and threw it on the outstretched figure of the\nDervish, but still the Dervish lay motionless. The Hodja carefully\nclimbed down the tree, gave the body of the Dervish a kick, and\nclimbed back again, and still the Dervish did not stir. At length the\nHodja descended from the tree and placed his ear to the Dervish's\nheart. It did not beat. The Dervish was dead.\n\n\"Ah, well,\" said the Hodja, \"at least I shall not starve. I will take\nhis garments and sell them and buy me some bread.\"\n\nThe Hodja commenced to remove the Dervish's garments. As he took off\nhis belt he found that it was heavy. He opened it, and saw that it\ncontained gold. He counted the gold and found that it was exactly one\nthousand piasters.\n\nThe Hodja turned his face toward Mecca and raising his eyes to heaven\nsaid, \"Oh God, you have kept your promise, but,\" he added, \"not before\nI saved your life.\"\n\n\n\n\nBETTER IS THE FOLLY OF WOMAN THAN THE WISDOM OF MAN\n\n\nThere lived in Constantinople an old Hodja, a learned man, who had a\nson. The boy followed in his father's footsteps, went every day to the\nMosque Aya Sofia, seated himself in a secluded spot, to the left of\nthe pillar bearing the impress of the Conqueror's hand, and engaged in\nthe study of the Koran. Daily he might be seen seated, swaying his\nbody to and fro, and reciting to himself the verses of the Holy Book.\n\nThe dearest wish of a Mohammedan theological student is to be able to\nrecite the entire Koran by heart. Many years are spent in memorizing\nthe Holy Book, which must be recited with a prescribed cantillation,\nand in acquiring a rhythmical movement of the body which accompanies\nthe chant.\n\nWhen Abdul, for that was the young man's name, had reached his\nnineteenth year, he had, by the most assiduous study, finally\nsucceeded in mastering three-fourths of the Koran. At this achievement\nhis pride rose, his ambition was fired, and he determined to become a\ngreat man.\n\nThe day that he reached this decision he did not go to the Mosque, but\nstopped at home, in his father's house, and sat staring at the fire\nburning in the grate. Several times the father asked:\n\n\"My son, what do you see in the fire?\"\n\nAnd each time the son answered:\n\n\"Nothing, father.\"\n\nHe was very young; he could not see.\n\nFinally, the young man picked up courage and gave expression to his\nthoughts.\n\n\"Father,\" he said, \"I wish to become a great man.\"\n\n\"That is very easy,\" said the father.\n\n\"And to be a great man,\" continued the son, \"I must first go to\nMecca.\" For no Mohammedan priest or theologian, or even layman, has\nfulfilled all of the cardinal precepts of his faith unless he has made\nthe pilgrimage to the Holy City.\n\nTo his son's last observation the father blandly replied: \"It is very\neasy to go to Mecca.\"\n\n\"How, easy?\" asked the son. \"On the contrary, it is very difficult;\nfor the journey is costly, and I have no money.\"\n\n\"Listen, my son,\" said the father. \"You must become a scribe, the\nwriter of the thoughts of your brethren, and your fortune is made.\"\n\n\"But I have not even the implements necessary for a scribe,\" said the\nson.\n\n\"All that can be easily arranged,\" said the father; \"your grandfather\nhad an ink-horn; I will give it you; I will buy you some\nwriting-paper, and we will get you a box to sit in; all that you need\nto do is to sit still, look wise and your fortune is made.\"\n\nAnd indeed the advice was good. For letter-writing is an art which\nonly the few possess. The ability to write by no means carries with it\nthe ability to compose. Epistolary genius is rare.\n\nAbdul was much rejoiced at the counsel that had been given him, and\nlost no time in carrying out the plan. He took his grandfather's\nink-horn, the paper his father bought, got himself a box and began his\ncareer as a scribe.\n\nAbdul was a child, he knew nothing, but deeming himself wise he sought\nto surpass the counsel of his father.\n\n\"To look wise,\" he said, \"is not sufficient; I must have some other\nattraction.\"\n\nAnd after much thought he hit upon the following idea. Over his box he\npainted a legend: \"The wisdom of man is greater than the wisdom of\nwoman.\" People thought the sign very clever, customers came, the young\nHodja took in many piasters and he was correspondingly happy.\n\nThis sign one day attracted the eyes and mind of a Hanoum (Turkish\nlady). Seeing that Abdul was a manly youth, she went to him and said:\n\n\"Hodja, I have a difficult letter to write. I have heard that thou art\nvery wise, so I have come to thee. To write the letter thou wilt need\nall thy wit. Moreover, the letter is a long one, and I cannot stand\nhere while it is being written. Come to my Konak (house) at three this\nafternoon, and we will write the letter.\"\n\nThe Hodja was overcome with admiration for his fair client, and\nsurprised at the invitation. He was enchanted, his heart beat wildly,\nand so great was his agitation that his reply of acquiescence was\nscarcely audible.\n\nThe invitation had more than the charm of novelty to make it\nattractive. He had never talked with a woman outside of his own family\ncircle. To be admitted to a lady's house was in itself an adventure.\n\nLong before the appointed time, the young Hodja--impetuous\nyouth--gathered together his reeds, ink, and sand. With feverish step\nhe wended his way to the house. Lattices covered the windows, a high\nwall surrounded the garden, and a ponderous gate barred the entrance.\nThrice he raised the massive knocker.\n\n\"Who is there?\" called a voice from within.\n\n\"The scribe,\" was the reply.\n\n\"It is well,\" said the porter; the gate was unbarred, and the Hodja\npermitted to enter. Directly he was ushered into the apartment of his\nfair client.\n\nThe lady welcomed him cordially.\n\n\"Ah! Hodja Effendi, I am glad to see you; pray sit down.\"\n\nThe Hodja nervously pulled out his writing-implements.\n\n\"Do not be in such a hurry,\" said the lady. \"Refresh yourself; take a\ncup of coffee, smoke a cigarette, and we will write the letter\nafterwards.\"\n\nSo he lit a cigarette, drank a cup of coffee, and they fell to\ntalking. Time flew; the minutes seemed like seconds, and the hours\nwere as minutes. While they were thus enjoying themselves there\nsuddenly came a heavy knock at the gate.\n\n\"It is my husband, the Pasha,\" cried the lady. \"What shall I do? If he\nfinds you here, he will kill you! I am so frightened.\"\n\nThe Hodja was frightened too. Again there came a knock at the gate.\n\n\"I have it,\" and taking Abdul by the arm, she said, \"you must get into\nthe box,\" indicating a large chest in the room. \"Quick, quick, if you\nprize your life utter not a word, and Inshallah I will save you.\"\n\nAbdul now, too late, saw his folly. It was his want of experience; but\ndriven by the sense of danger, he entered the chest; the lady locked\nit and took the key.\n\nA moment afterwards the Pasha came in.\n\n\"I am very tired,\" he said; \"bring me coffee and a chibook.\"\n\n\"Good evening, Pasha Effendi,\" said the lady. \"Sit down. I have\nsomething to tell you.\"\n\n\"Bah!\" said the Pasha; \"I want none of your woman's talk; 'the hair of\nwoman is long, and her wits are short,' says the proverb. Bring me my\npipe.\"\n\n\"But, Pasha Effendi,\" said the lady, \"I have had an adventure to-day.\"\n\n\"Bah!\" said the Pasha; \"what adventure can a woman have--forgot to\npaint your eyebrows or color your nails, I suppose.\"\n\n\"No, Pasha Effendi. Be patient, and I will tell you. I went out to-day\nto write a letter.\"\n\n\"A letter?\" said the Pasha; \"to whom would you write a letter?\"\n\n\"Be patient,\" she said, \"and I will tell you my story. So I came to\nthe box of a young scribe with beautiful eyes.\"\n\n\"A young man with beautiful eyes,\" shouted the Pasha. \"Where is he?\nI'll kill him!\" and he drew his sword.\n\nThe Hodja in the chest heard every word and trembled in every limb.\n\n\"Be patient, Pasha Effendi; I said I had an adventure, and you did not\nbelieve me. I told the young man that the letter was long, and I\ncould not stand in the street to write it. So I asked him to come and\nsee me this afternoon.\"\n\n\"Here? to this house?\" thundered the Pasha.\n\n\"Yes, Pasha Effendi,\" said the lady. \"So the Hodja came here, and I\ngave him coffee and a cigarette, and we talked, and the minutes seemed\nlike seconds, and the hours were as minutes. All at once came your\nknock at the gate, and I said to the Hodja, 'That is the Pasha; and if\nhe finds you here, he will kill you.'\"\n\n\"And I will kill him,\" screamed the Pasha, \"where is he?\"\n\n\"Be patient, Pasha Effendi,\" said the lady, \"and I will tell you. When\nyou knocked a second time, I suddenly thought of the chest, and I put\nthe Hodja in.\"\n\n\"Let me at him!\" screamed the Pasha. \"I'll cut off his head!\"\n\n\"O Pasha,\" she said, \"what a hurry you are in to slay this comely\nyouth. He is your prey; he cannot escape you. The youth is not only in\nthe box, but it is locked, and the key is in my pocket. Here it is.\"\n\nThe lady walked over to the Pasha, stretched out her hand and gave him\nthe key.\n\nAs he took it, she said:\n\n\"Philopena!\"\n\n\"Bah!\" said the Pasha, in disgust. He threw the key on the floor and\nleft the harem, slamming the door behind him.\n\nAfter he had gone, the lady took up the key, unlocked the door, and\nlet out the trembling Hodja.\n\n\"Go now, Hodja, to your box,\" she said. \"Take down your sign and write\ninstead: 'The wit of woman is twofold the wit of man,' for I am a\nwoman, and in one day I have fooled two men.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE HANOUM AND THE UNJUST CADI\n\n\nIt was, and still is, in some parts of Constantinople, the custom of\nthe refuse-gatherer to go about the streets with a basket on his back,\nand a wooden shovel in his hand, calling out 'refuse removed.'\n\nA certain Chepdji, plying his trade, had, in the course of five years\nof assiduous labor, amassed, to him, the no unimportant sum of five\nhundred piasters. He was afraid to keep this money by him; so hearing\nthe Cadi of Stamboul highly and reverently spoken of, he decided to\nentrust his hard-earned savings to the Cadi's keeping.\n\nGoing to the Cadi, he said: \"Oh learned and righteous man, for five\nlong years have I labored, carrying the dregs and dross of rich and\npoor alike, and I have saved a sum of five hundred piasters. With the\nhelp of Allah, in another two years I shall have saved a further sum\nof at least one hundred piasters, when, Inshallah, I shall return to\nmy country and clasp my wife and children again. In the meantime you\nwill be granting a boon to your slave, if you will consent to keep\nthis money for me until the time for departure has come.\"\n\nThe Cadi replied: \"Thou hast done well, my son; the money will be kept\nand given to thee when required.\"\n\nThe poor Chepdji, well satisfied, departed. But after a very short\ntime he learned that several of his friends were about to return to\ntheir Memleket (province), and he decided to join them, thinking that\nhis five hundred piasters were ample for the time being, 'Besides,'\nsaid he, 'who knows what may or may not happen in the next two years?'\nSo he decided to depart with his friends at once.\n\nHe went to the Cadi, explained that he had changed his mind, that he\nwas going to leave for his country immediately, and asked for his\nmoney. The Cadi called him a dog and ordered him to be whipped out of\nthe place by his servants. Alas! what could the poor Chepdji do! He\nwept in impotent despair, as he counted the number of years he must\nyet work before beholding his loved ones.\n\nOne day, while moving the dirt from the Konak of a wealthy Pasha, his\nsoul uttered a sigh which reached the ears of the Hanoum, and from the\nwindow she asked him why he sighed so deeply. He replied that he\nsighed for something that could in no way interest her. The Hanoum's\nsympathy was excited, and after much persuasion, he finally, with\ntears in his eyes, related to her his great misfortune. The Hanoum\nthought for a few minutes and then told him to go the following day to\nthe Cadi at a certain hour and again ask for the money as if nothing\nhad happened.\n\nThe Hanoum in the meantime gathered together a quantity of jewelry, to\nthe value of several hundred pounds, and instructed her favorite and\nconfidential slave to come with her to the Cadi and remain outside\nwhilst she went in, directing her that when she saw the Chepdji come\nout and learned that he had gotten his money, to come in the Cadi's\nroom hurriedly and say to her, \"your husband has arrived from Egypt,\nand is waiting for you at the Konak.\"\n\nThe Hanoum then went to the Cadi, carrying in her hand a bag\ncontaining the jewelry. With a profound salaam she said:\n\n\"Oh Cadi, my husband, who is in Egypt and who has been there for\nseveral years, has at last asked me to come and join him there; these\njewels are of great value, and I hesitate to take them with me on so\nlong and dangerous a journey. If you would kindly consent to keep them\nfor me until my return, or if I never return to keep them as a token\nof my esteem, I will think of you with lifelong gratitude.\"\n\nThe Hanoum then began displaying the rich jewelry. Just then the\nChepdji entered, and bending low, said:\n\n\"Oh master, your slave has come for his savings in order to proceed to\nhis country.\"\n\n\"Ah, welcome,\" said the Cadi, \"so you are going already!\" and\nimmediately ordered the treasurer to pay the five hundred piasters to\nthe Chepdji.\n\n\"You see,\" said the Cadi to the Hanoum, \"what confidence the people\nhave in me. This money I have held for some time without receipt or\nacknowledgment; but directly it is asked for it is paid.\"\n\nNo sooner had the Chepdji gone out of the door, than the Hanoum's\nslave came rushing in, crying: \"Hanoum Effendi! Hanoum Effendi! Your\nhusband has arrived from Egypt, and is anxiously awaiting you at the\nKonak.\"\n\nThe Hanoum, in well-feigned excitement, gathered up her jewelry and,\nwishing the Cadi a thousand years of happiness, departed.\n\nThe Cadi was thunderstruck, and caressing his beard with grave\naffection thoughtfully said: \"Allah! Allah! For forty years have I\nbeen judge, but never was a cause pleaded in this fashion before.\"\n\n\n\n\nWHAT HAPPENED TO HADJI, A MERCHANT OF THE BEZESTAN\n\n\nHadji was a married man, but even Turkish married men are not\ninvulnerable to the charms of other women. It happened one day, when\npossibly the engrossing power of his lawful wife's influence was\nfeeble upon him, that a charming Hanoum came to his shop to purchase\nsome spices. After the departure of his fair visitor Hadji, do what he\nmight, could not drive from his mind's eye, either her image, or her\nattractive power. He was further greatly puzzled by a tiny black bag\ncontaining twelve grains of wheat, which the Hanoum had evidently\nforgotten.\n\nTill a late hour that night did Hadji remain in his shop, in the hope\nthat either the Hanoum or one of her servants would come for the bag,\nand thus give him the means of seeing her again or at least of\nlearning where she lived. But Hadji was doomed to disappointment, and,\nmuch preoccupied, he returned to his home. There he sat, unresponsive\nto his wife's conversation, thinking, and no doubt making mental\ncomparisons between her and his visitor.\n\nHadji remained downcast day after day, and at last, giving way to his\nwife's entreaties to share his troubles, he frankly told her what had\nhappened, and that ever since that day his soul was in his visitor's\nbondage.\n\n\"Oh husband,\" replied his wife, \"and do you not understand what that\nblack bag containing the twelve grains of wheat means?\"\n\n\"Alas! no,\" replied Hadji.\n\n\"Why, my husband, it is plain, plain as if it had been told. She lives\nin the Wheat Market, at house No. 12, with a black door.\"\n\nMuch excited, Hadji rushed off and found that there was a No. 12 in\nthe Wheat Market, with a black door, so he promptly knocked. The door\nopened, and who should he behold but the lady in question? She,\nhowever, instead of speaking to him, threw a basin of water out into\nthe street and then shut the door. Hadji, with mingled feelings of\ngratitude to his wife for having so accurately directed him, but none\nthe less surprised at his reception, lingered about the doorway for a\ntime and then returned home. He greeted his wife more pleasantly than\nhe had for many days, and told her of his strange reception.\n\n\"Why,\" said his wife, \"don't you understand what the basin of water\nthrown out of the door means?\"\n\n\"Alas! no,\" said Hadji.\n\n\"Veyh! Veyh! (an exclamation of pity) it means that at the back of the\nhouse there is a running stream, and that you must go to her that\nway.\"\n\nOff rushed Hadji and found that his wife was right; there was a\nrunning stream at the back of the house, so he knocked at the back\ndoor. The Hanoum, however, instead of opening it, came to the window,\nshowed a mirror, reversed it and then disappeared. Hadji lingered at\nthe back of the house for a long time, but seeing no further sign of\nlife, he returned to his home much dejected. On entering the house,\nhis wife greeted him with: \"Well, was it not as I told you?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Hadji. \"You are truly a wonderful woman, Mashallah! But I\ndo not know why she came to the window and showed me a mirror both in\nfront and back, instead of opening the door.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said his wife, \"that is very simple; she means that you must go\nwhen the face of the moon has reversed itself, about ten o'clock.\" The\nhour arrived, Hadji hurried off, and so did his wife; the one to see\nhis love, and the other to inform the police.\n\nWhilst Hadji and his charmer were talking in the garden the police\nseized them and carried them both off to prison, and Hadji's wife,\nhaving accomplished her mission, returned home.\n\nThe next morning she baked a quantity of lokum cakes, and taking them\nto the prison, begged entrance of the guards and permission to\ndistribute these cakes to the prisoners, for the repose of the souls\nof her dead. This being a request which could not be denied, she was\nallowed to enter. Finding the cell in which the lady who had\ninfatuated her husband was confined, she offered to save her the\ndisgrace of the exposure, provided she would consent never again to\nlook upon Hadji, the merchant, with envious or loving eyes. The\nconditions were gratefully accepted, and Hadji's wife changed places\nwith the prisoner.\n\nWhen they were brought before the judge, Hadji was thunderstruck to\nsee his wife, but being a wise man he held his peace, and left her to\ndo the talking, which she did most vigorously, vehemently protesting\nagainst the insult inflicted on both her and her husband in bringing\nthem to prison, because they chose to converse in a garden, being\nlawfully wedded people; in witness whereof, she called upon the\nBekdji (watchman) and the Imam (priest) of the district and several of\nher neighbors.\n\nPoor Hadji was dumfounded, and, accompanied by his better half, left\nthe prison, where he had expected to stay at least a year or two,\nsaying: \"Truly thou art a wonderful woman, Mashallah.\"\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE JUNKMAN TRAVELLED TO FIND TREASURE IN HIS OWN YARD\n\n\nIn one of the towers overlooking the Sea of Marmora and skirting the\nancient city of Stamboul, there lived an old junkman, who earned a\nprecarious livelihood in gathering cinders and useless pieces of iron,\nand selling them to smiths.\n\nOften did he moralize on the sad Kismet that had reduced him to the\ntask of daily laboring for his bread to make a shoe, perhaps for an\nass. Surely he, a true Mussulman, might at least be permitted to ride\nthe ass. His eternal longing often found satisfaction in passing his\nhours of sleep in dreams of wealth and luxury. But with the dawning of\nthe day came reality and increased longing.\n\nOften did he call on the spirit of sleep to reverse matters, but in\nvain; with the rising of the sun began the gathering of the cinders\nand iron.\n\nOne night he dreamt that he begged this nocturnal visitor to change\nhis night to day, and the spirit said to him: \"Go to Egypt, and it\nshall be so.\"\n\nThis encouraging phrase haunted him by day and inspired him by night.\nSo persecuted was he with the thought that when his wife said to him,\nfrom the door, \"Have you brought home any bread?\" he would reply, \"No,\nI have not gone; I will go to-morrow;\" thinking she had asked him,\n\"Have you gone to Egypt?\"\n\nAt last, when friends and neighbors began to pity poor Ahmet, for that\nwas his name, as a man on whom the hand of Allah was heavily laid,\nremoving his intelligence, he one morning left his house, saying: \"I\ngo! I go! to the land of wealth!\" And he left his wife wringing her\nhands in despair, while the neighbors tried to comfort her. Poor Ahmet\nwent straight on board a boat which he had been told was bound for\nIskender (Alexandria), and assured the captain that he was summoned\nthither, and that he was bound to take him. Half-witted and mad\npersons being more holy than others, Ahmet was conveyed to Iskender.\n\nArriving in Iskender, Hadji Ahmet roamed far and wide, proceeding as\nfar as Cairo, in search of the luxuries he had enjoyed at\nConstantinople when in the land of Morpheus, which he had been\npromised to enjoy in the sunshine, if he came to Egypt. Alas! for\nHadji Ahmet; the only bread he had to eat was that which was given him\nby sympathizing humanity. Time sped on, sympathy was growing tired of\nexpending itself on Hadji Ahmet, and his crusts of bread were few and\nfar between.\n\nWearied of life and suffering, he decided to ask Allah to let him die,\nand wandering out to the Pyramids he solicited the stones to have pity\nand fall on him. It happened that a Turk heard this prayer, and said\nto him:\n\n\"Why so miserable, father? Has your soul been so strangled that you\nprefer its being dashed out of your body, to its remaining the\nprescribed time in bondage?\"\n\n\"Yes, my son,\" said Hadji Ahmet. \"Far away in Stamboul, with the help\nof God, I managed as a junkman to feed my wife and myself; but here am\nI, in Egypt, a stranger, alone and starving, with possibly my wife\nalready dead of starvation, and all this through a dream.\"\n\n\"Alas! Alas! my father! that you at your age should be tempted to\nwander so far from home and friends, because of a dream. Why, were I\nto obey my dreams, I would at this present moment be in Stamboul,\ndigging for a treasure that lies buried under a tree. I can even now,\nalthough I have never been there, describe where it is. In my mind's\neye I see a wall, a great wall, that must have been built many years\nago, and supporting or seeming to support this wall are towers with\nmany corners, towers that are round, towers that are square, and\nothers that have smaller towers within them. In one of these towers, a\nsquare one, there live an old man and woman, and close by the tower is\na large tree, and every night when I dream of the place, the old man\ntells me to dig and disclose the treasure. But, father, I am not such\na fool as to go to Stamboul and seek to verify this. It is an\noft-repeated dream and nothing more. See what you have been reduced to\nby coming so far.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Hadji Ahmet, \"it is a dream and nothing more, but you have\ninterpreted it. Allah be praised, you have encouraged me; I will\nreturn to my home.\"\n\nAnd Hadji Ahmet and the young stranger parted, the one grateful that\nit had pleased Allah to give him the power to revive and encourage a\ndrooping spirit, and the other grateful to Allah that when he had\ndespaired of life a stranger should come and give him the\ninterpretation of his dream. He certainly had wandered far and long to\nlearn that the treasure was in his own garden.\n\nHadji Ahmet in due course, much to the astonishment of both wife and\nneighbors, again appeared upon the scene not a much changed man. In\nfact, he was the cinder and iron gatherer of old.\n\nTo all questions as to where he was and what he had been doing, he\nwould answer: \"A dream sent me away, and a dream brought me back.\"\n\nAnd the neighbors would say: \"Truly he must be blessed.\"\n\nOne night Hadji Ahmet went to the tree, provided with spade and pick,\nthat he had secured from an obliging neighbor. After digging a short\ntime a heavy case was brought to view, in which he found gold, silver,\nand precious jewels of great value. Hadji Ahmet replaced the case and\nearth and returned to bed, much lamenting that it had pleased God to\nfurnish women, more especially his wife, with a long tongue, long\nhair, and very short wits. Alas! he thought, if I tell my wife, I may\nbe hung as a robber, for it is against the laws of nature for a woman\nto keep a secret. Yet, becoming more generous when thinking of the\nyears of toil and hardship she had shared with him, he decided to try\nand see if, by chance, his wife was not an exception to other women.\nWho knows, she might keep the secret. To test her, at no risk to\nhimself and the treasure, he conceived a plan.\n\nCrawling from his bed, he sallied forth and bought, found, or stole an\negg. This egg on the following morning he showed to his wife, and said\nto her:\n\n\"Alas! I fear I am not as other men, for evidently in the night I laid\nthis egg; and, wife mine, if the neighbors hear of this, your husband,\nthe long-suffering Hadji Ahmet, will be bastinadoed, bowstrung, and\nburned to death. Ah, truly, my soul is strangled.\"\n\nAnd without another word Hadji Ahmet, with a sack on his shoulder,\nwent forth to gather the cast-off shoes of horse, ox, or ass,\nwondering if his wife would prove an exception in this, as she had in\nmany other ways, to other women.\n\nIn the evening he returned, heavily laden with his finds, and as he\nneared home he heard rumors, ominous rumors, that a certain Hadji\nAhmet, who had been considered a holy man, had done something that was\nunknown in the history of man, even in the history of hens--that he\nhad laid a dozen eggs.\n\nNeedless to add that Hadji Ahmet did not tell his wife of the\ntreasure, but daily went forth with his sack to gather iron and\ncinders, and invariably found, when separating his finds of the day,\nin company with his wife, at first one, and then more gold and silver\npieces, and now and then a precious stone.\n\n\n\n\nHOW CHAPKIN HALID BECAME CHIEF DETECTIVE\n\n\nIn Balata there lived, some years ago, two scapegraces, called Chapkin\nHalid and Pitch Osman. These two young rascals lived by their wits and\nat the expense of their neighbors. But they often had to lament the\never-increasing difficulties they encountered in procuring the few\npiasters they needed daily for bread and the tavern. They had tried\nseveral schemes in their own neighborhood, with exceptionally poor\nresults, and were almost disheartened when Chapkin Halid conceived an\nidea that seemed to offer every chance of success. He explained to his\nchum Osman that Balata was \"played out,\" at least for a time, and that\nthey must go elsewhere to satisfy their needs. Halid's plan was to go\nto Stamboul, and feign death in the principal street, while Osman was\nto collect the funeral expenses of his friend Halid.\n\nArriving in Stamboul, Halid stretched himself on his back on the\npavement and covered his face with an old sack, while Osman sat\nhimself down beside the supposed corpse, and every now and then\nbewailed the hard fate of the stranger who had met with death on the\nfirst day of his arrival. The corpse prompted Osman whenever the coast\nwas clear, and the touching tale told by Osman soon brought\ncontributions for the burial of the stranger. Osman had collected\nabout thirty piasters, and Halid was seriously thinking of a\nresurrection, but was prevented by the passing of the Grand Vizier,\nwho, upon inquiring why the man lay on the ground in that fashion, was\ntold that he was a stranger who had died in the street. The Grand\nVizier thereupon gave instructions to an Imam, who happened to be at\nhand, to bury the stranger and come for the money to the Sublime\nPorte.\n\nHalid was reverently carried off to the Mosque, and Osman thought that\nit was time to leave the corpse to take care of itself. The Imam laid\nHalid on the marble floor and prepared to wash him prior to interment.\nHe had taken off his turban and long cloak and got ready the water,\nwhen he remembered that he had no soap, and immediately went out to\npurchase some. No sooner had the Imam disappeared than Halid jumped\nup, and, donning the Imam's turban and long cloak, repaired to the\nSublime Porte. Here he asked admittance to the Grand Vizier, but this\nrequest was not granted until he told the nature of his business.\nHalid said he was the Imam who, in compliance with the verbal\ninstructions received from his Highness, had buried a stranger and\nthat he had come for payment. The Grand Vizier sent five gold pieces\n(twenty piasters each) to the supposed Imam, and Halid made off as\nfast as possible.\n\nNo sooner had Halid departed than the cloakless Imam arrived in\nbreathless haste, and explained that he was the Imam who had received\ninstructions from the Grand Vizier to bury a stranger, but that the\nsupposed corpse had disappeared, and so had his cloak and turban.\nWitnesses proved this man to be the bona-fide Imam of the quarter, and\nthe Grand Vizier gave orders to his Chief Detective to capture, within\nthree days, on pain of death, and bring to the Sublime Porte, this\nfearless evil-doer.\n\nThe Chief Detective was soon on the track of Halid; but the latter was\non the keen lookout. With the aid of the money he had received from\nthe Grand Vizier to defray his burial expenses he successfully evaded\nthe clutches of the Chief Detective, who was greatly put about at\nbeing thus frustrated. On the second day he again got scent of Halid\nand determined to follow him till an opportunity offered for his\ncapture. Halid knew that he was followed and divined the intentions of\nhis pursuer. As he was passing a pharmacy he noticed there several\nyoung men, so he entered and explained in Jewish-Spanish (one of his\naccomplishments) to the Jew druggist, as he handed him one of the gold\npieces he had received from the Grand Vizier, that his uncle, who\nwould come in presently, was not right in his mind; but that if the\ndruggist could manage to douche his head and back with cold water, he\nwould be all right for a week or two. No sooner did the Chief\nDetective enter the shop than, at a word from the apothecary, the\nyoung men seized him and, by means of a large squirt, they did their\nutmost to effectively give him the salutary and cooling douche. The\nmore the detective protested, the more the apothecary consolingly\nexplained that the operation would soon be over and that he would feel\nmuch better, and told of the numerous similar cases he had cured in a\nlike manner. The detective saw that it was useless to struggle, so he\nabandoned himself to the treatment; and in the meantime Halid made\noff. The Chief Detective was so disheartened that he went to the Grand\nVizier and asked him to behead him, as death was preferable to the\nannoyance he had received and might still receive at the hands of\nChapkin Halid. The Grand Vizier was both furious and amused, so he\nspared the Chief Detective and gave orders that guards be placed at\nthe twenty-four gates of the city, and that Halid be seized at the\nfirst opportunity. A reward was further promised to the person who\nwould bring him to the Sublime Porte.\n\nHalid was finally caught one night as he was going out of the\nTop-Kapou (Cannon Gate), and the guards, rejoicing in their capture,\nafter considerable consultation decided to bind Halid to a large tree\nclose to the Guard house, and thus both avoid the loss of sleep and\nthe anxiety incident to watching over so desperate a character. This\nwas done, and Halid now thought that his case was hopeless. Towards\ndawn, Halid perceived a man with a lantern walking toward the Armenian\nChurch, and rightly concluded that it was the beadle going to make\nready for the early morning service. So he called out in a loud voice:\n\n\"Beadle! Brother! Beadle! Brother! come here quickly.\"\n\nNow it happened that the beadle was a poor hunchback, and no sooner\ndid Halid perceive this than he said:\n\n\"Quick! Quick! Beadle, look at my back and see if it has gone!\"\n\n\"See if what has gone?\" asked the beadle, carefully looking behind the\ntree.\n\n\"Why, my hump, of course,\" answered Halid.\n\nThe beadle made a close inspection and declared that he could see no\nhump.\n\n\"A thousand thanks!\" fervently exclaimed Halid, \"then please undo the\nrope.\"\n\nThe beadle set about to liberate Halid, and at the same time earnestly\nbegged to be told how he had got rid of the hump, so that he also\nmight free himself of his deformity. Halid agreed to tell him the\ncure, provided the beadle had not yet broken fast, and also that he\nwas prepared to pay a certain small sum of money for the secret. The\nbeadle satisfied Halid on both of these points, and the latter\nimmediately set about binding the hunchback to the tree, and further\ntold him, on pain of breaking the spell, to repeat sixty-one times the\nwords: 'Esserti! Pesserti! Sersepeti!' if he did this, the hump would\nof a certainty disappear. Halid left the poor beadle religiously and\nearnestly repeating the words.\n\nThe guards were furious when they found, bound to the tree, a madman,\nas they thought, repeating incoherent words, instead of Halid. They\nbegan to unbind the captive, but the only answer they could get to\ntheir host of questions was 'Esserti, Pesserti, Sersepeti.' As the\nknots were loosened, the louder did the beadle in despair call out the\ncharmed words in the hopes of arresting them. No sooner was the beadle\nfreed than he asked God to bring down calamity on the destroyers of\nthe charm that was to remove his hunch. On hearing the beadle's tale,\nthe guards understood how their prisoner had secured his liberty, and\nsent word to the Chief Detective. This gentleman told the Grand Vizier\nof the unheard-of cunning of the escaped prisoner. The Grand Vizier\nwas amused and also very anxious to see this Chapkin Halid, so he sent\ncriers all over the city, giving full pardon to Halid on condition\nthat he would come to the Sublime Porte and confess in person to the\nGrand Vizier. Halid obeyed the summons, and came to kiss the hem of\nthe Grand Vizier's garment, who was so favorably impressed by him that\nhe then and there appointed him to be his Chief Detective.\n\n\n\n\nHOW COBBLER AHMET BECAME THE CHIEF ASTROLOGER\n\n\nEvery day cobbler Ahmet, year in and year out, measured the breadth of\nhis tiny cabin with his arms as he stitched old shoes. To do this was\nhis Kismet, his decreed fate, and he was content--and why not? his\nbusiness brought him quite sufficient to provide the necessaries of\nlife for both himself and his wife. And had it not been for a\ncoincidence that occurred, in all probability he would have mended old\nboots and shoes to the end of his days.\n\nOne day cobbler Ahmet's wife went to the Hamam (bath), and while there\nshe was much annoyed at being obliged to give up her compartment,\nowing to the arrival of the Harem and retinue of the Chief Astrologer\nto the Sultan. Much hurt, she returned home and vented her pique upon\nher innocent husband.\n\n\"Why are you not the Chief Astrologer to the Sultan?\" she said. \"I\nwill never call or think of you as my husband until you have been\nappointed Chief Astrologer to his Majesty.\"\n\nAhmet thought that this was another phase in the eccentricity of woman\nwhich in all probability would disappear before morning, so he took\nsmall notice of what his wife said. But Ahmet was wrong. His wife\npersisted so much in his giving up his present means of earning a\nlivelihood and becoming an astrologer, that finally, for the sake of\npeace, he complied with her desire. He sold his tools and collection\nof sundry old boots and shoes, and, with the proceeds purchased an\ninkwell and reeds. But this, alas! did not constitute him an\nastrologer, and he explained to his wife that this mad idea of hers\nwould bring him to an unhappy end. She, however, could not be moved,\nand insisted on his going to the highway, there to wisely practise\nthe art, and thus ultimately become the Chief Astrologer.\n\nIn obedience to his wife's instructions, Ahmet sat down on the\nhighroad, and his oppressed spirit sought comfort in looking at the\nheavens and sighing deeply. While in this condition a Hanoum in great\nexcitement came and asked him if he communicated with the stars. Poor\nAhmet sighed, saying that he was compelled to converse with them.\n\n\"Then please tell me where my diamond ring is, and I will both bless\nand handsomely reward you.\"\n\nThe Hanoum, with this, immediately squatted on the ground, and began\nto tell Ahmet that she had gone to the bath that morning and that she\nwas positive that she then had the ring, but every corner of the Hamam\nhad been searched, and the ring was not to be found.\n\n\"Oh! astrologer, for the love of Allah, exert your eye to see the\nunseen.\"\n\n\"Hanoum Effendi,\" replied Ahmet, the instant her excited flow of\nlanguage had ceased, \"I perceive a rent,\" referring to a tear he had\nnoticed in her shalvars or baggy trousers. Up jumped the Hanoum,\nexclaiming:\n\n\"A thousand holy thanks! You are right! Now I remember! I put the ring\nin a crevice of the cold water fountain.\" And in her gratitude she\nhanded Ahmet several gold pieces.\n\nIn the evening he returned to his home, and giving the gold to his\nwife, said: \"Take this money, wife; may it satisfy you, and in return\nall I ask is that you allow me to go back to the trade of my father,\nand not expose me to the danger and suffering of trudging the road\nshoeless.\"\n\nBut her purpose was unmoved. Until he became the Chief Astrologer she\nwould neither call him nor think of him as her husband.\n\nIn the meantime, owing to the discovery of the ring, the fame of Ahmet\nthe cobbler spread far and wide. The tongue of the Hanoum never\nceased to sound his praise.\n\nIt happened that the wife of a certain Pasha had appropriated a\nvaluable diamond necklace, and as a last resource, the Pasha\ndetermined, seeing that all the astrologers, Hodjas, and diviners had\nfailed to discover the article, to consult Ahmet the cobbler, whose\npraises were in every mouth.\n\nThe Pasha went to Ahmet, and, in fear and trembling, the wife who had\nappropriated the necklace sent her confidential slave to overhear what\nthe astrologer would say. The Pasha told Ahmet all he knew about the\nnecklace, but this gave no clue, and in despair he asked how many\ndiamonds the necklace contained. On being told that there were\ntwenty-four, Ahmet, to put off the evil hour, said it would take an\nhour to discover each diamond, consequently would the Pasha come on\nthe morrow at the same hour when, Inshallah, he would perhaps be able\nto give him some news.\n\nThe Pasha departed, and no sooner was he out of earshot, than the\ntroubled Ahmet exclaimed in a loud voice:\n\n\"Oh woman! Oh woman! what evil influence impelled you to go the wrong\npath, and drag others with you! When the twenty-four hours are up, you\nwill perhaps repent! Alas! Too late. Your husband gone from you\nforever! Without a hope even of being united in paradise.\"\n\nAhmet was referring to himself and his wife, for he fully expected to\nbe cast into prison on the following day as an impostor. But the slave\nwho had been listening gave another interpretation to his words, and\nhurrying off, told her mistress that the astrologer knew all about the\ntheft. The good man had even bewailed the separation that would\ninevitably take place. The Pasha's wife was distracted, and hurried\noff to plead her cause in person with the astrologer. On approaching\nAhmet, the first words she said, in her excitement, were:\n\n\"Oh learned Hodja, you are a great and good man. Have compassion on\nmy weakness and do not expose me to the wrath of my husband! I will do\nsuch penance as you may order, and bless you five times daily as long\nas I live.\"\n\n\"How can I save you?\" innocently asked Ahmet. \"What is decreed is\ndecreed!\"\n\nAnd then, though silent, looked volumes, for he instinctively knew\nthat words unuttered were arrows still in the quiver.\n\n\"If you won't pity me,\" continued the Hanoum, in despair, \"I will go\nand confess to my Pasha, and perhaps he will forgive me.\"\n\nTo this appeal Ahmet said he must ask the stars for their views on the\nsubject. The Hanoum inquired if the answer would come before the\ntwenty-four hours were up. Ahmet's reply to this was a long and\nconcentrated gaze at the heavens.\n\n\"Oh Hodja Effendi, I must go now, or the Pasha will miss me. Shall I\ngive you the necklace to restore to the Pasha without explanation,\nwhen he comes to-morrow for the answer?\"\n\nAhmet now realized what all the trouble was about, and in\nconsideration of a fee, he promised not to reveal her theft on the\ncondition that she would at once return home and place the necklace\nbetween the mattresses of her Pasha's bed. This the grateful woman\nagreed to do, and departed invoking blessings on Ahmet, who in return\npromised to exercise his influence in her behalf for astral\nintervention.\n\nWhen the Pasha came to the astrologer at the appointed time, he\nexplained to him, that if he wanted both the necklace and the thief or\nthieves, it would take a long time, as it was impossible to hurry the\nstars; but if he would be content with the necklace alone, the\nhoroscope indicated that the stars would oblige him at once. The Pasha\nsaid that he would be quite satisfied if he could get his diamonds\nagain, and Ahmet at once told him where to find them. The Pasha\nreturned to his home not a little sceptical, and immediately searched\nfor the necklace where Ahmet had told him it was to be found. His joy\nand astonishment on discovering the long-lost article knew no bounds,\nand the fame of Ahmet the cobbler was the theme of every tongue.\n\nHaving received handsome payment from both the Pasha and the Hanoum,\nAhmet earnestly begged of his wife to desist and not bring down sorrow\nand calamity upon his head. But his pleadings were in vain. Satan had\nclosed his wife's ear to reason with envy. Resigned to his fate, all\nhe could do was to consult the stars, and after mature thought give\ntheir communication, or assert that the stars had, for some reason\nbest known to the applicant, refused to commune on the subject.\n\nIt happened that forty cases of gold were stolen from the Imperial\nTreasury, and every astrologer having failed to get even a clue as to\nwhere the money was or how it had disappeared, Ahmet was approached.\nPoor man, his case now looked hopeless! Even the Chief Astrologer was\nin disgrace. What might be his punishment he did not know--most\nprobably death. Ahmet had no idea of the numerical importance of\nforty; but concluding that it must be large he asked for a delay of\nforty days to discover the forty cases of gold. Ahmet gathered up the\nimplements of his occult art, and before returning to his home, went\nto a shop and asked for forty beans--neither one more nor one less.\nWhen he got home and laid them down before him he appreciated the\nnumber of cases of gold that had been stolen, and also the number of\ndays he had to live. He knew it would be useless to explain to his\nwife the seriousness of the case, so that evening he took from his\npocket the forty beans and mournfully said:\n\n\"Forty cases of gold,--forty thieves,--forty days; and here is one of\nthem,\" handing a bean to his wife. \"The rest remain in their place\nuntil the time comes to give them up.\"\n\nWhile Ahmet was saying this to his wife one of the thieves was\nlistening at the window. The thief was sure he had been discovered\nwhen he heard Ahmet say, \"And here is one of them,\" and hurried off to\ntell his companions.\n\nThe thieves were greatly distressed, but decided to wait till the next\nevening and see what would happen then, and another of the number was\nsent to listen and see if the report would be verified. The listener\nhad not long been stationed at his post when he heard Ahmet say to his\nwife: \"And here is another of them,\" meaning another of the forty days\nof his life. But the thief understood the words otherwise, and hurried\noff to tell his chief that the astrologer knew all about it and knew\nthat he had been there. The thieves consequently decided to send a\ndelegation to Ahmet, confessing their guilt and offering to return the\nforty cases of gold intact. Ahmet received them, and on hearing their\nconfession, accompanied with their condition to return the gold,\nboldly told them that he did not require their aid; that it was in his\npower to take possession of the forty cases of gold whenever he\nwished, but that he had no special desire to see them all executed,\nand he would plead their cause if they would go and put the gold in a\nplace he indicated. This was agreed to, and Ahmet continued to give\nhis wife a bean daily--but now with another purpose; he no longer\nfeared the loss of his head, but discounted by degrees the great\nreward he hoped to receive. At last the final bean was given to his\nwife, and Ahmet was summoned to the Palace. He went, and explained to\nhis Majesty that the stars refused both to reveal the thieves and the\ngold, but whichever of the two his Majesty wished would be immediately\ngranted. The Treasury being low, it was decided that, provided the\ncases were returned with the gold intact, his Majesty would be\nsatisfied. Ahmet conducted them to the place where the gold was\nburied, and amidst great rejoicing it was taken back to the Palace.\nThe Sultan was so pleased with Ahmet, that he appointed him to the\noffice of Chief Astrologer, and his wife attained her desire.\n\nThe Sultan was one day walking in his Palace grounds accompanied by\nhis Chief Astrologer; wishing to test his powers he caught a\ngrasshopper, and holding his closed hand out to the astrologer asked\nhim what it contained. Ahmet, in a pained and reproachful tone,\nanswered the Sultan by a much-quoted proverb: \"Alas! Your Majesty! the\ngrasshopper never knows where its third leap will land it,\"\nfiguratively alluding to himself and the dangerous hazard of guessing\nwhat was in the clenched hand of his Majesty. The Sultan was so struck\nby the reply that Ahmet was never again troubled to demonstrate his\npowers.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WISE SON OF ALI PASHA\n\n\nA servant of his Majesty Sultan Ahmet, who had been employed for\ntwenty-five years in the Palace, begged leave of the Sultan to allow\nhim to retire to his native home, and at the same time solicited a\npension to enable him to live. The Sultan asked him if he had not\nsaved any money. The man replied that owing to his having to support a\nlarge family, he had been unable to do so. The Sultan was very angry\nthat any of his servants, especially in the immediate employ of his\nhousehold, should, after so many years' service, say that he was\npenniless. Disbelieving the statement, and in order to make an\nexample, the Sultan gave orders that Hassan should quit the Palace in\nthe identical state he had entered it twenty-five years before.\nHassan was accordingly disrobed of all his splendor, and his various\neffects, the accumulation of a quarter of a century, were confiscated,\nand distributed amongst the legion of Palace servants. Poor Hassan,\nwithout a piaster in his pocket, and dressed in the rude costume of\nhis native province, began his weary journey homeward on foot.\n\nIn time he reached the suburbs of a town in Asia Minor, and seeing\nsome boys playing, he approached them, sat on the ground, and watched\ntheir pastime. The boys were playing at state affairs: one was a\nSultan, another his Vizier, who had his cabinet of Ministers, while\nclose by were a number of boys bound hand and foot, representing\npolitical and other prisoners, awaiting judgment for their imaginary\nmisdeeds. The Sultan, who was sitting with worthy dignity on a throne\nmade of branches and stones, decorated with many-colored centrepieces,\nbeckoned to Hassan to draw near, and asked him where he had come from.\nHassan replied that he had come from Stamboul, from the Palace of the\nSultan.\n\n\"That's a lie,\" said the mock Sultan, \"no one ever came from Stamboul\ndressed in that fashion, much less from the Palace; you are from the\nfar interior, and if you do not confess that what I say is true, you\nwill be tried by my Ministers, and punished accordingly.\"\n\nHassan, partly to participate in their boyish amusement, and partly to\nunburden his aching heart, related his sad fate to his youthful\naudience. When he had finished, the boy Sultan, Ali by name, asked him\nif he had received his twenty-five years. Hassan, not fully grasping\nwhat the boy said, replied:\n\n\"Nothing! Nothing!\"\n\n\"That is unjust,\" continued Ali, \"and you shall go back to the Sultan\nand ask that your twenty-five years be returned to you so that you may\nplough and till your ground, and thus make provision for the period of\nwant, old age.\"\n\nHassan was struck by the sound advice the boy had given him, thanked\nhim and said he would follow it to the letter. The boys then in\nthoughtless mirth separated, to return to their homes, never dreaming\nthat the seeds of destiny of one of their number had been sown in\nplay. Hassan, retracing his steps, reappeared in time at the gates of\nthe Palace and begged admittance, stating that he had forgotten to\ncommunicate something of importance to his Majesty. His request being\ngranted, he humbly solicited, that, inasmuch as his Majesty had been\ndissatisfied with his long service, the twenty-five years he had\ndevoted to him should be returned, so that he might labor and put by\nsomething to provide for the inevitable day when he could no longer\nwork. The Sultan answered:\n\n\"That is well said and just. As it is not in my power to give you the\ntwenty-five years, the best equivalent I can grant you is the means of\nsustenance for a period of that duration should you live so long. But\ntell me, who advised you to make this request?\"\n\nHassan then related his adventure with the boys while on his journey\nhome, and his Majesty was so pleased with the judgment and advice of\nthe lad that he sent for him and had him educated. The boy studied\nmedicine, and distinguishing himself in the profession ultimately rose\nto be Hekim Ali Pasha.\n\nHe had one son who was known as Doctor Ali Pasha's son. He studied\ncalligraphy, and became so proficient in this art, now almost lost,\nthat his imitations of the Imperial Irades (decrees) were perfect\nfac-similes of the originals. One day he took it into his head to\nwrite an Irade appointing himself Grand Vizier, in place of the\nreigning one, a protege of the Imperial Palace, which Irade he took to\nthe Sublime Porte and there and then installed himself. By chance the\nSultan happened to drive through Stamboul that day, in disguise, and\nnoticing considerable excitement and cries of \"Padishahim chok yasha\"\n(long live my Sultan) amongst the people, made inquiries as to the\ncause of this unusual occurrence. His Majesty's informers brought him\nthe word that the people rejoiced in the fall of the old Grand Vizier,\nand the appointment of the new one, Doctor Ali Pasha's son. The Sultan\nreturned to the Palace and immediately sent one of his eunuchs to the\nSublime Porte to see the Grand Vizier and find out the meaning of\nthese strange proceedings.\n\nThe eunuch was announced, and the Grand Vizier ordered him to be\nbrought into his presence. Directly he appeared in the doorway, he was\ngreeted with: \"What do you want, you black dog?\"\n\nThen turning to the numerous attendants about, he said: \"Take this\nnigger to the slave market, and see what price he will bring.\"\n\nThe eunuch was taken to the slave market, and the highest price bid\nfor him was fifty piasters. On hearing this, the Grand Vizier turned\nto the eunuch and said: \"Go and tell your master what you are worth,\nand tell him that I think it too much by far.\"\n\nThe eunuch was glad to get off, and communicated to his Majesty the\nstory of his strange treatment. The Sultan then ordered his Chief\nEunuch, a not unimportant personage in the Ottoman Empire, to call on\nthe Grand Vizier for an explanation. At the Sublime Porte, however, no\nrespect was paid to this high dignitary. Ali Pasha received him in\nprecisely the same manner as he had received his subordinate. The\nchief was taken to the slave market, and the highest sum bid for him\nwas five hundred piasters. The self-appointed Grand Vizier ordered him\nto go and tell his master the amount some foolish people were willing\nto pay for him.\n\nWhen the Sultan heard of these strange proceedings he sent an\nautograph letter to Ali Pasha, commanding him to come to the Palace.\nThe Grand Vizier immediately set out for the Palace and was received\nin audience, when he explained to his Majesty that the affairs of\nState could not be managed by men not worth more than from fifty to\nfive hundred piasters, and that if radical changes were not made,\ncertain ruin would be the outcome. The Sultan appreciated this earnest\ncommunication, and ratified the appointment, as Grand Vizier, of Ali\nPasha, the son of the boy who had played at state affairs in a village\nof Asia Minor.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MERCIFUL KHAN\n\n\nThere lived once near Ispahan a tailor, a hard-working man, who was\nvery poor. So poor was he that his workshop and house together\nconsisted of a wooden cottage of but one room.\n\nBut poverty is no protection against thieves, and so it happened that\none night a thief entered the hut of the tailor. The tailor had driven\nnails in various places in the walls on which to hang the garments\nthat were brought to him to mend. It chanced that in groping about for\nplunder, the thief struck against one of these nails and put out his\neye.\n\nThe next morning the thief appeared before the Khan (Judge) and\ndemanded justice. The Khan accordingly sent for the tailor, stated\nthe complaint of the thief, and said that in accordance with the law,\n'an eye for an eye,' it would be necessary to put out one of the\ntailor's eyes. As usual, however, the tailor was allowed to plead in\nhis own defence, whereupon he thus addressed the court:\n\n\"Oh great and mighty Khan, it is true that the law says _an_ eye for\nan eye, but it does not say _my_ eye. Now I am a poor man, and a\ntailor. If the Khan puts out one of my eyes, I will not be able to\ncarry on my trade, and so I shall starve. Now it happens that there\nlives near me a gunsmith. He uses but one eye with which he squints\nalong the barrel of his guns. Take his other eye, oh Khan, and let the\nlaw be satisfied.\"\n\nThe Khan was favorably impressed with this idea, and accordingly sent\nfor the gunsmith. He recited to the gunsmith the complaint of the\nthief and the statement of the tailor, whereupon the gunsmith said:\n\n\"Oh great and mighty Khan, this tailor knows not whereof he talks. I\nneed both of my eyes; for while it is true that I squint one eye\nalong one side of the barrel of the gun, to see if it is straight, I\nmust use the other eye for the other side. If, therefore, you put out\none of my eyes you will take away from me the means of livelihood. It\nhappens, however, that there lives not far from me a flute-player. Now\nI have noticed that whenever he plays the flute he closes both of his\neyes. Take out one of his eyes, oh Khan, and let the law be\nsatisfied.\"\n\nAccordingly, the Khan sent for the flute-player, and after reciting to\nhim the complaint of the thief, and the words of the gunsmith, he\nordered him to play upon his flute. This the flute-player did, and\nthough he endeavored to control himself, he did not succeed, but, as\nthe result of long habit, closed both of his eyes. When the Khan saw\nthis, he ordered that one of the flute-player's eyes be put out, which\nbeing done, the Khan spoke as follows:\n\n\"Oh flute-player, I saw that when playing upon your flute you closed\nboth of your eyes. It was thus clear to me that neither was necessary\nfor your livelihood, and I had intended to have them both put out, but\nI have decided to put out only one in order that you may tell among\nmen how merciful are the Khans.\"\n\n\n\n\nKING KARA-KUSH OF BITHYNIA\n\n\nA King of Bithynia, named Kara-kush, who was blind of an eye, was\nconsidered in his day a reasonable, just, and feeling man. He\nadministered justice upon the basis of the law, 'An eye for an eye, a\ntooth for a tooth,' and enlarged or modified it as circumstances\ndemanded.\n\nIt happened that a weaver by accident put out the eye of a man. He was\nbrought before the King or Cadi, for in those days the Kings acted as\nCadis, who promptly condemned him, in accordance with the law, to the\nloss of an eye. The weaver pleaded touchingly, saying:\n\n\"Oh Cadi! I have a wife and a large family, and I support them by\nthrowing the shuttle from the right to the left, and again from the\nleft to the right; first using the one eye and then the other. If you\nremove one of my eyes, I will not be able to weave, and my wife and\nchildren will suffer the pangs of hunger. Why not, in the place of my\neye, remove that of the hunter who uses but one eye in exercising his\nprofession, and to whom two eyes are superfluous?\"\n\nThe Cadi was impressed, acknowledged the justice of the weaver's\nremarks, and the hunter was immediately sent for. The hunter being\nbrought, the Cadi was greatly rejoiced to notice that the hunter's\neyes were exactly the same color as his own. He asked the hunter how\nhe earned his living, and receiving his answer that he was a hunter,\nthe Cadi asked him how he shot. The hunter in reply demonstrated the\nmanner by putting up his arms, his head to a side, and closing one\neye. The Cadi said the weaver was right, and immediately sent for the\nsurgeon to have the eye removed. Further, the Cadi bethought him that\nhe might profit by this and have the hunter's eye placed in his own\nsocket. The surgeon set to work and prepared the cavity to receive\nthe hunter's eye. This done with a practised hand, the surgeon removed\nthe hunter's eye and was about to place it in the prepared socket,\nwhen it accidentally slipped from his fingers to the ground, and was\nsnatched up by a cat. The surgeon was terrified and madly ran after\nthe cat; but alas! the cat had eaten the eye. What was he to do? On\nthe inspiration of the moment he snatched out the eye of the cat, and\nplacing it in the Cadi's head, bound it up.\n\nSome time after the surgeon asked the Cadi how he saw.\n\n\"Oh,\" replied the Cadi, \"with my old eye I see as usual, but strange\nto say, the new eye you placed in my head is continually searching and\nwatching for rat holes.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE PRAYER RUG AND THE DISHONEST STEWARD\n\n\nA poor Hamal (porter) brought to the Pasha of Stamboul his savings,\nconsisting of a small canvas bag of medjidies (Turkish silver\ndollars), to be kept for him, while he was absent on a visit to his\nhome. The Pasha, being a kind-hearted man, consented, and after\nsealing the bag, called his steward, instructing him to keep it till\nthe owner called for it. The steward gave the man a receipt, to the\neffect that he had received a sealed bag containing money.\n\nWhen the poor man returned, he went to the Pasha and received his bag\nof money. On reaching his room he opened the bag, and to his horror\nfound that it contained, instead of the medjidies he had put in it,\ncopper piasters, which are about the same size as medjidies. The poor\nHamal was miserable, his hard-earned savings gone.\n\nHe at last gathered courage to go and put his case before the Pasha.\nHe took the bag of piasters, and with trembling voice and faltering\nheart he assured the Pasha that though he had received his bag\napparently intact, on opening it he found that it contained copper\npiasters and not the medjidies he had put in it. The Pasha took the\nbag, examined it closely, and after some time noticed a part that had\napparently been darned by a master-hand. The Pasha told the Hamal to\ngo away and come back in a week; in the meantime he would see what he\ncould do for him. The grateful man departed, uttering prayers for the\nlife and prosperity of his Excellency.\n\nThe next morning after the Pasha had said his prayers kneeling on a\nmost magnificent and expensive rug, he took a knife and cut a long\nrent in it. He then left his Konak without saying a word to any one.\nIn the evening when he returned he found that the rent had been so\nwell repaired that it was with difficulty that he discovered where it\nhad been. Calling his steward, he demanded who had repaired his prayer\nrug. The steward told the Pasha that he thought the rug had been cut\nby accident by some of the servants, so he had sent to the Bazaar for\nthe darner, Mustapha, and had it mended, the steward, by way of\napology, adding that it was very well done.\n\n\"Send for Mustapha immediately,\" said the Pasha, \"and when he comes\nbring him to my room.\"\n\nWhen Mustapha arrived, the Pasha asked him if he had repaired the rug.\nMustapha at once replied that he had mended it that very morning.\n\n\"It is indeed well done,\" said the Pasha; \"much better than the darn\nyou made in that canvas bag.\"\n\nMustapha agreed, saying that it was very difficult to mend the bag as\nit was full of copper piasters. On hearing this, the Pasha gave him a\nbacksheesh (present) and told him to retire. The Pasha then called his\nsteward, and not only compelled him to pay the Hamal his money, but\ndischarged him from his service, in which he had been engaged for many\nyears.\n\n\n\n\nTHE GOOSE, THE EYE, THE DAUGHTER, AND THE ARM\n\n\nA Turk decided to have a feast, so he killed and stuffed a goose and\ntook it to the baker to be roasted. The Cadi of the village happened\nto pass by the oven as the baker was basting the goose, and was\nattracted by the pleasant and appetizing odor. Approaching the baker,\nthe Cadi said it was a fine goose; that the smell of it made him quite\nhungry, and suggested that he had better send it to his house. The\nbaker expostulated, saying: \"I cannot; it does not belong to me.\"\n\nThe Cadi assured him that was no difficulty. \"You tell Ahmet, the\nowner of the goose, that it flew away.\"\n\n\"Impossible!\" said the baker. \"How can a roasted goose fly away? Ahmet\nwill only laugh at me, your Worship, and I will be cast into prison.\"\n\n\"Am I not a Judge?\" said the Cadi, \"fear nothing.\"\n\nAt this the baker consented to send the goose to the Cadi's house.\nWhen Ahmet came for his goose the baker said: \"Friend, thy goose has\nflown.\"\n\n\"Flown?\" said Ahmet, \"what lies! Am I thy grandfather's grandchild\nthat thou shouldst laugh in my beard?\"\n\nSeizing one of the baker's large shovels, he lifted it to strike him,\nbut, as fate would have it, the handle put out the eye of the baker's\nboy, and Ahmet, frightened at what he had done, ran off, closely\nfollowed by the baker and his boy, the latter crying: \"My eye!\"\n\nIn his hurry Ahmet knocked over a child, killing it, and the father of\nthe child joined in the chase, calling out: \"My daughter!\"\n\nAhmet, well-nigh distracted, rushed into a mosque and up a minaret. To\nescape his pursuers he leaped from the parapet, and fell upon a\nvender who was passing by, breaking his arm. The vender also began\npursuing him, calling out: \"My arm!\"\n\nAhmet was finally caught and brought before the Cadi, who no doubt was\nfeeling contented with the world, having just enjoyed the delicious\ngoose.\n\nThe Cadi heard each of the cases brought against Ahmet, who in turn\ntold his case truthfully as it had happened.\n\n\"A complicated matter,\" said the Cadi. \"All these misfortunes come\nfrom the flight of the goose, and I must refer to the book of the law\nto give just judgment.\"\n\nTaking down a ponderous manuscript volume, the Cadi turned to Ahmet\nand asked him what number egg the goose had been hatched from. Ahmet\nsaid he did not know.\n\n\"Then,\" replied the Cadi, \"the book writes that such a phenomenon was\npossible. If this goose was hatched from the seventh egg, and the\nhatcher also from the seventh egg, the book writes that it is possible\nfor a roasted goose, under those conditions, to fly away.\"\n\n\"With reference to your eye,\" continued the Cadi, addressing the\nbaker's lad, \"the book provides punishment for the removal of two\neyes, but not of one, so if you will consent to your other eye being\ntaken out, I will condemn Ahmet to have both of his removed.\"\n\nThe baker's lad, not appreciating the force of this argument, withdrew\nhis claim.\n\nThen turning to the father of the dead child, the Cadi explained that\nthe only provision for a case like this in the book of the law, was\nthat he take Ahmet's child in its place, or if Ahmet had not a child,\nto wait till he got one. The bereaved parent not taking any interest\nin Ahmet's present or prospective children, also withdrew his case.\n\nThese cases settled, there remained but the vender's, who was wroth at\nhaving his arm broken. The Cadi expatiated on the justice of the law\nand its far-seeing provisions, that the vender at least could claim\nample compensation for having his arm broken. The book of the law\nprovided that he should go to the very same minaret, and that Ahmet\nmust station himself at the very same place where he had stood when\nhis arm was broken; and that he might jump down and break Ahmet's arm.\n\n\"But be it understood,\" concluded the Cadi, \"if you break his leg\ninstead of his arm, Ahmet will have the right to delegate some one to\njump down on you to break your leg.\"\n\nThe vender not seeing the force of the Cadi's proposal, also withdrew\nhis claim.\n\nThus ended the cases of the goose, the eye, the daughter, and the\narm.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FORTY WISE MEN\n\n\nOn a day amongst the many days, when the Turk was more earnest than\nnow, before the Europeans came and gave new ideas to our children,\nthere lived and labored for the welfare of our people an organized\nbody of men. At whose suggestion this society was formed I know not.\nAll that we know of them to-day, through our fathers, is that their\nforefathers chose from among them the most wise, sincere, and\nexperienced forty brethren. These forty were named the Forty Wise Men.\nWhen one of the forty was called away from his labors here, perhaps to\ncontinue them in higher spheres, or to receive his reward, who knows?\nthe remaining thirty-nine consulted and chose from the community him\nwhom they thought capable, and worthy of guiding and of being guided,\nto add to their number. They lived and held their meetings in a mosque\nof which little remains now, the destructive hand of time having left\nit but a battered dome, with cheerless walls and great square holes,\nwhere once were iron bars and stained glass. It has gone--so have the\nwise men. But its foundations are solid, and they may in time come to\nsupport an edifice dedicated to noble work, and, Inshallah, the seed\nof the Forty Wise Men will also bear fruit in the days that are not\nyet.\n\nYou will say, what good did this body of men do? These men who always\nnumbered forty were, as I have told you, originally chosen by the\npeople, and when one of the forty departed from his labors here, the\nremaining thirty-nine consulted together and from the most worthy of\nthe community they chose another member.\n\nWhat was the good of this body of men? Great, great, my friends. Not\nonly did they administer justice to the oppressed, and give to the\nneedy substantial aid; but their very existence had the most\nbeneficial effect on the community. Why? you ask. Because each vied\nwith the other to be worthy of being nominated for the vacancy when it\noccurred. No station in life was too low to be admitted, no station\nwas too high for one of the faithful to become one of the 'Forty.'\nHere all were equal. As Allah himself doth consider mankind by deeds,\nso also mankind was considered by the Forty Wise Men, who presided\nover the welfare and smoothed the destiny of the children of Allah.\nWith their years, their wisdom grew, and they were blessed by Allah.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn the town of Scutari, over the way, there lived and labored a\nDervish. His counsel to the rash was ever ready, his sole object,\napparently, in life was to become one of the Forty Wise Men, who\npresided over the people and protected them from all ills.\n\nThe years went on, and still without a reward he patiently labored, no\ndoubt contenting himself with the idea that the day would come when\nthe merit of his actions would be recognized by Allah. That was a\nmistake, my friends; true faith expecteth nothing. However, the day\ndid come, and the Dervish's great desire had every appearance of being\nrealized. One of the Forty Wise Men having accomplished his mission on\nearth, departed this life. The remaining thirty-nine, who still had\nduties to fulfil, consulted as to whom they should call to aid them in\ntheir work. A eulogy was pronounced in favor of the Dervish. They not\nunjustly considered how he had labored among the poor in Scutari; ever\nready to help the needy, ever ready to counsel the rash, ever ready to\ncomfort and encourage the despairing. It was decided that he should be\nnominated. A deputation consisting of three, two to listen, one to\nspeak, was named, and with the blessing of their brethren, for\nsuccess, they entered a caique and were rowed to Scutari. Arriving at\nthe Dervish's gate, the spokesman thus addressed the would-be member\nof the Forty Wise Men:\n\n\"Brother in the flesh, thy actions have been noted, and we come to put\na proposition to thee, which, after consideration, thou wilt either\naccept or reject as thou thinkest best for all interested therein. We\nwould ask thee to become one of us. We are sent hither by, and are the\nrepresentatives of, the sages who preside over the people. Brother, we\nnumber in all one hundred and thirty-eight in spirit;--ninety-nine,\nhaving accomplished their task in the flesh, have departed;\nthirty-nine, still in the flesh, endeavor their duty to fulfil. And it\nis the desire of the one hundred and thirty-eight souls to add to us\nthyself, in order to complete our number of laborers in the flesh.\nBrother, thy duties, which will be everlasting, thou wilt learn when\nwith us. Do thou consider, and we will return at the setting of the\nsun of the third day, to receive thy answer.\"\n\nAnd they turned to depart. But the Dervish stopped them, saying:\n\"Brothers, I have no need to consider the subject for three days,\nseeing that my inmost desire for thirty years, and my sole object in\nlife has been to become worthy of being one of you. In spirit I have\nlong been your brother, in the flesh it is easy to comply, seeing that\nit has been the spirit's desire.\"\n\nThen answered the spokesman: \"Brother, thou hast spoken well. Allah,\nthou art with us in our choice; we praise Thee. Brother, one word! Our\nways are different to all men's ways; thou hast but to have faith, and\nall is well.\"\n\n\"Brethren, faith! I have had faith; my faith is now even strengthened.\nI do your bidding.\"\n\n\"Brother, first of all thy worldly goods must be disposed of and\nrendered into gold. Every earthly possession thou hast must be\nrepresented by a piece of gold. Therefore see to that; we have other\nduties to fulfil, but will return ere the sun sets in the west.\"\n\nThe Dervish set about selling all his goods; and when the coloring of\nthe sky in the west harbingered the closing of the day, he had\ndisposed of everything and stood waiting with naught but a sack of\ngold.\n\nThe three wise men returned, and, on seeing the Dervish, said:\n\"Brother, thou hast done well; we will hence.\"\n\nA caique was in waiting, and the four entered. Silently the caique\nglided over the smooth surface of the Bosphorus; and silently the\noccupants sat. When beyond Maidens' Tower, the spokesman, turning to\nthe Dervish, said: \"Brother, with thy inmost blessing give me that\nsack, representing everything thou dost possess in this world.\"\n\nThe Dervish handed the sack as he was bidden, and the wise man\nsolemnly rose, and holding it on high, said: \"With the blessing of our\nbrother Mustapha,\" and dropped it where the current is strongest.\nThen, sitting down, resumed his silence. The deed was done, and\nnothing outward told the story; the Caiquedji dipped his oars, and\nthe waves rippled as soft as before. Nothing but the distant, soothing\ncry of the Muezzin, calling the faithful to prayer, now waxing, now\nwaning, now completely dying away as they moved around the minarets,\nbroke the stillness.\n\nEre long the boat was brought to the shore, the four men wended their\nway up the steep hill, and the horizon, wrapped in the mantle of\nnight, hid them from the boatman's sight. A few minutes' walk brought\nthem to the mosque of the Forty Wise Men; the spokesman turned to the\nDervish, and said: \"Brother, faithfully follow,\" and then passed\nthrough the doorway. They entered a large, vaulted chamber, the\nceiling of which was artistically inlaid with mosaiques, and the floor\ncovered with tiles of the ceramic art of bygone ages. From the centre\nhung a large chandelier holding a number of little oil cups, each\nshedding its tiny light, as if to show that union was strength. Round\nthis chandelier were seven brass filagreed, hemispherical-shaped\nlanterns, holding several oil burners. These many tiny burners gave a\nsoothing, contented, though undefined light, which, together with the\nsilence, added to the impressiveness of the place. Round this hall\nwere forty boxes of the same shape and size.\n\nOur friend stood in the centre of the hall and under the influence of\nthe scene, he was afraid to breathe; he did not know whether to be\nhappy or sad, for having come so far.\n\nAs he stood thus thinking, dreaming, one of the curtains was raised,\nand there came forth a very old man, his venerable white beard all but\ntouching his girdle.\n\nSolemnly and slowly he walked over to the opposite side, and following\nin his train came thirty-eight more, the last apparently being the\nyoungest.\n\nChill after chill went coursing down the spinal cord of the astonished\nwould-be brother, whilst these men moved about in the unbroken\nsilence, as if talking to invisible beings; now embracing, now\nclasping hands, now bidding farewell.\n\nThe Dervish closed his eyes, opened them, Were these things so? Yes,\nit was no dream, no hallucination. Yet why heard he no sound?\n\nEach of the brethren now took his place beside a box, but there was\none vacancy; no one stood at the side of the box to the left of the\nyoungest brother. Making a profound salaam, which all answered, the\nold man silently turned, raised the curtain, and passed into the\ndarkness, each in his order following. As one in a trance, the Dervish\nwatched one after another disappear. The last now raised the curtain,\nbut before vanishing, turned (it was the spokesman), and whispered:\n\"Brother, faith, follow!\" and stepped into the darkness.\n\nThese words acted upon the Dervish like a spell; he followed.\n\nUp, up, the winding stairway of a minaret they go. At last they\narrive, and to the horror of the Dervish, what does he see? One, two,\nthree, disappear over the parapet, and his friend the spokesman,\nwith: \"Brother, faith, follow!\" also vanished into the inky darkness.\n\nAgain at the eleventh hour did the cheering words of the brother\nspokesman act upon the Dervish like magic, he raised his foot to the\nparapet, and, in faltering decision, jumped up two or three times. But\nman's guardian does not lead him over the rugged paths of life; he\ngives the impulse and you must go. So it was with the Dervish. He\njumped once, twice, thrice, but each time fell backward instead of\nforward. My friends, he hesitated again; at the eleventh hour he was\nencouraged, but undecided--he was not equal to the test. So, with a\ngreat weight on his heart, he descended the winding stairs of the\nminaret. He had reached his zenith only in desire, and was now on his\ndecline.\n\nLamenting, like a weak mortal that he was, for not having followed, he\nagain entered the hall he had just left, with the intention, no doubt,\nof departing.\n\nBut the charm of the place was on him again, and as he stood the\ncurtain moved, and the old man advanced; and as before, the silence\nwas unbroken. Again did each take his place beside a box, again did\nthe old man salaam, with the simultaneous response of the others.\nAgain did they gesture as if talking to invisible beings of some\ncalamity which had befallen them which they all regretted.\n\nThe old man went and opened the box that stood alone. From this he\ntook, what? the identical bag of gold that had been dropped into the\nBosphorus some hours ago. The spokesman came forward and took it from\nthe hand of the old man. The Dervish now no longer believed that _he_\nwas _he_ himself, and that these things were taking place. He\nunderstood not, he knew not.\n\nComing forward, the spokesman thus addressed the spell-bound Dervish,\nhis voice giving a strange echo, as if his words were emphasized by a\nhundred invisible mouths:\n\n\"Friend and brother in the flesh, but weak of the spirit, thou hast\nproved thyself unworthy to impart that which thou hast not\nthyself,--Faith! Thine actions hitherto, of seeming conviction, have\nnot been for the eye of the Almighty, the All-seeing, the All-powerful\nalone, but for the approbation of mankind. To get this approbation\nthou hast soared out of thine element; the atmosphere is too rarified,\nthou canst not live, thou must return!\n\n\"Get thee back into the world, back to thy brothers; thou canst not be\none of us. One hundred and thirty-nine in the spirit have regretfully\njudged thee as lacking in faith, and not having a sheltered apartment\nwithin thyself, thou canst not shelter others. No man can bequeath\nthat which he hath not. Go thy way, and in secret build thee a wall,\nbrick by brick, action by action; let none see thy place but the eye\nthat seeth all, lest a side, when all but completed, fall, and thou\nart again exposed to the four winds. Take thy money, thine all, and\nwhen hesitation interrupts, offer a prayer in thy heart, and then\nfaithfully follow! Farewell!\"\n\nAnd the Dervish was led out into the street, a lone and solitary man;\nhe had his all in his hand--a bag of gold.\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE PRIEST KNEW THAT IT WOULD SNOW\n\n\nA Turk travelling in Asia Minor came to a Christian village. He\njourneyed on horseback, was accompanied by a black slave, and seeming\na man of consequence, the priest of the village offered him\nhospitality for the night. The first thing to be done was to conduct\nthe traveller to the stable, that he might see his horse attended to\nand comfortably stalled for the night. In the stable was a magnificent\nArab horse, belonging to the priest, and the Turk gazed upon it with\ncovetous eyes, but nevertheless, in order that no ill should befall\nthe beautiful creature and to counteract the influence of the evil eye\nwith certainty, he spat at the animal. After they had dined, the\npriest took his guest for a walk in the garden, and in the course of\na very pleasant conversation he informed the Turk that on the morrow\nthere would be snow on the ground.\n\n\"Never! Impossible!\" said the Turk.\n\n\"Well, to-morrow you will see that I am right,\" said the priest.\n\n\"I am willing to stake my horse against yours, that you are wrong,\"\nanswered the Turk, who was delighted at this opportunity which gave\nhim a chance of securing the horse, without committing the breach in\nOriental etiquette of asking his host if he would sell it. After some\npersuasion the priest accepted his wager, and they separated for the\nnight.\n\nLater on that night, the Turk said to his slave: \"Go, Sali, go and see\nwhat the weather says, for truly my life is in want of our good host's\nhorse.\"\n\nSali went out to make an observation, and on returning said to his\nmaster: \"Master, the heavens are like unto your face,--without a frown\nand many kindly sparkling eyes, and the earth is like unto that of\nyour black slave.\"\n\n\"'Tis well, Sali, 'tis well. What a beautiful animal that is!\"\n\nLater on, before retiring to rest, he sent his slave on another\ninspection, and was gratified to receive the same answer. Early in the\nmorning he awoke, and calling his slave, who had slept at his door, he\nsent him forth again to see if any change had taken place.\n\n\"Oh master!\" reported Sali, in trembling tones, \"Nature has reversed\nherself, for the heavens are now like the scowling face of your slave,\nand the earth is like yours, white, entirely white.\"\n\n\"Chok shai! wonderful thing. Then I have lost not only that beautiful\nanimal but my own horse as well. Oh pity! Oh pity!\"\n\nHe gave up his horse, but before parting he begged the priest to tell\nhim how he knew it would snow.\n\n\"My pig told me as we were walking in the garden yesterday. I saw it\nput its nose in the heap of manure you see in that corner, and I knew\nthat to be a sure sign that it would snow on the morrow,\" replied the\npriest.\n\nDeeply mystified, the Turk and his slave proceeded on foot. Reaching a\nTurkish village before nightfall, he sought and obtained shelter for\nthe night from the Imam, the Mohammedan priest of the village. While\npartaking of the evening meal he asked the Imam when the feast of the\nBairam would be.\n\n\"Truly, I do not know! When the cannons fire, I will know it is\nBairam,\" said his host.\n\n\"What!\" said the traveller, becoming angry, \"you an Imam,--a learned\nHodja,--and don't know when it will be Bairam, and the pig of the\nGreek priest knew when it would snow? Shame! Shame!\"\n\nAnd becoming much angered, he declined the hospitality of the Imam and\nwent elsewhere.\n\n\n\n\nWHO WAS THE THIRTEENTH SON\n\n\nIn the town of Adrianople there lived an Armenian Patriarch, Munadi\nHagop by name, respected and loved alike by Mussulman and Christian.\nHe was a man of wide reading and profound judgment. The Ottoman\nGovernor of the same place, Usref Pasha, happened also to be a man of\nconsiderable acquirements and education. The Armenian and the Turk\nassociated much together. In fact, they were always either walking out\ntogether or visiting, one at the residence of the other. This went on\nfor some time, and the twelve wise men who were judges in the city\nthought that their Governor was doing wrong in associating so much\nwith a dog of a Christian; so they resolved to call him to account.\n\nThis resolution taken, the entire twelve proceeded to the house of the\nGovernor and told him that he was setting a bad example to his\nsubjects. They feared, too, that the salvation of his own soul and of\nhis posterity was in danger, should this Armenian in any way influence\nhis mind.\n\n\"My friends,\" answered the Governor, \"this man is very learned, and\nthe only reason why we so often come together is because a great\nsympathy exists between us, and much mutual pleasure is derived from\nthis friendship. I ask his advice, and he gives me a clear\nexplanation. He is my friend, and I would gladly see him your friend.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said the spokesman of the judges, \"it is his wise answers that\nact as magic upon you? We will give him a question to answer, and if\nhe solves this to our satisfaction, he will then in reality be a great\nman.\"\n\n\"I am sure you will not be disappointed!\" said the Pasha. \"He has\nnever failed me, and I have sometimes put questions to him which\nappeared unanswerable. He will surely call to-morrow. Shall I send him\nto you or bring him myself?\"\n\n\"We wish to see him alone,\" said the judges.\n\n\"I shall not fail to send him to you to-morrow, after which I am sure\nyou will often seek his company.\"\n\nOn the following day the Pasha told the Patriarch how matters stood,\nand begged him to call on the gentlemen who took so lively an interest\nin their friendly association.\n\nThe Patriarch, never dreaming of what would happen, called on the\ntwelve wise men and introduced himself. They were holding the Divan,\nand the entrance of the Patriarch gave considerable pleasure to them.\nOn the table lay a turban and a drawn sword.\n\nThe customary salutations having been duly exchanged, the Patriarch\nseated himself, and at once told them that his friend the Governor had\nasked him to call, and he took much pleasure in making their\nacquaintance, adding that he would be happy to do anything in his\npower that they might wish.\n\nThe spokesman of the Divan rose and said: \"Effendi, our friend the\nGovernor has told us of your great learning, and we have decided to\nput a question to you. The reason of our taking this liberty is\nbecause the Governor told us that he had never put a question to you\nwhich had remained unanswered.\"\n\nAnd as he spoke he moved toward the table.\n\n\"Effendi, our question will consist of only a few words.\" And laying\nhis right hand on the turban and his left hand on the sword, he said:\n\"Is this the right, or is this the right?\"\n\nThe Patriarch paused aghast at the terrible feature of the\ninterrogation. He saw destruction staring him in the face.\nNevertheless he said to them with great composure: \"Gentlemen, you\nhave put an exceedingly difficult question to me, the most difficult\nthat could be put to man. However, it is a question put, and now,\naccording to your laws, cannot be recalled.\"\n\n\"No,\" answered the twelve wise men, rubbing their hands, \"it cannot be\nrecalled.\"\n\n\"I will but say that it grieves me much to have to reply to this,\" the\nPatriarch continued, \"and I cannot do so without continued prayers for\nguidance. Therefore I beg to request a week's time before giving my\nanswer.\"\n\nTo this no objection was made, and the Patriarch prepared to go.\nRespectfully bowing to all present, as if nothing out of the common\nhad happened, he slowly moved toward the door apparently in deep\nthought.\n\nJust as he reached the door he turned back and addressing the judges,\nsaid:\n\n\"Gentlemen, one of the reasons I had great pleasure in meeting you\nto-day was because I wished to have your advice on a difficult legal\nproblem which has been presented to me by some members of my\ncommunity. Knowing your great wisdom, I thought you might assist me,\nand as you are now sitting in lawful council I shall, if agreeable to\nyou, put the case before you and be greatly pleased to learn your\nopinion.\"\n\nThe judges, whose curiosity was aroused, and who were flattered that a\nman of such reputation for wisdom should submit a matter to them for\ntheir opinion, signified to him to proceed.\n\n\"Gentlemen and wise men,\" began the Patriarch, \"there was once a\nfather, and this father had thirteen sons, who were esteemed by all\nwho knew them. As time with sure hand marked its progress on the issue\nof this good man, and the children grew into youth, they one by one\nwent into the world, spreading to the four known quarters of the\nglobe, and carrying with them the good influence given by their\nfather. Through them the name of the father spread, causing a great\nmoral and mental revolution throughout the world. The father in his\nnative home, however, saw that his days were few, that he had\nwell-nigh turned the leaves of the book of life, and yearned to see\nhis sons once more. He accordingly sent messengers all over the\nworld, saying: 'Come, my sons, and receive your father's blessing; he\nis about to depart this life, come and get each one your portion of\nthe worldly possessions I have, together with my blessing, and again\ngo forth, doing each your duty to God and man.'\n\n\"One by one the sons of the aged father came, and once more were\nunited in the ancient home of their childhood, with the exception of\none son. The remaining days of the old man were spent with his twelve\nsons, and the brothers found that all of them had retained the\nteachings of infancy, and the pleasure was great. The reuniting of the\nfamily, though of comparatively short duration, was happier by far\nthan the years of childhood and youth which they had spent together.\nStill the thirteenth son was not found. The messengers returned one\nafter the other, bearing no tidings of him. The old father saw that he\ncould wait no longer, that he must dispose of his worldly\npossessions, give his blessing to his twelve sons and rejoin his\nFather. So he called them to his side and thus spoke to them:\n\n\"'My sons, as you have done may it be done unto you. You have cheered\nmy last steps to the grave, and I bless you.'\n\n\"And the father's blessing was bestowed on each.\n\n\"'Of all I possess I give to each of you an equal share with my\nblessing. You are my offspring and the representatives of your father\non earth. It is my will that you should continue as you have begun.\nYou are my twelve sons, and I have no other. Your brother who was, is\nno longer. We have waited long, that he should take his portion and my\nblessing; but he has tarried elsewhere, and now the hand of my Father\nis on me, and as you have come to me, so I must go to show Him my\nwork.'\n\n\"So the father ordained that the twelve should be his heirs, and\ndeclared that any one coming after claiming to be his son, was an\nimpostor. He also confirmed in the existing and competent courts that\nthese alone were his representatives on earth. This was duly\nregistered in conformity with the law, and the old father passed away\nto rejoin his forefathers.\n\n\"The twelve sons again went forth into the world and carried with them\nthe blessings and teachings of their father, and these teachings and\nideas developed and grew, and the memory of their father was cherished\nand blessed.\n\n\"Many years after, a person turned up claiming to be the missing son,\nand sought to obtain the part due to him. Not only did he wish his\nshare, but he claimed the whole worldly possessions of his father,\nthat he was the son blessed by his father, and exhorted all to follow\nhis teachings. By those who knew the circumstances, he was not\nbelieved; but many were ignorant of the father, and also ignorant of\nthe registering in the courts of law, and were inclined to believe in\nthe impostor.\n\n\"Now, gentlemen, this is the case that has troubled me much. As you\nare sitting in lawful council, it would give me much pleasure if you\ncould cast light on the case. Your statement will help me, and I will\nbe ever grateful to you. Had this son, the late returned person, any\nright to all the worldly possessions of the father, or, in fact, even\nany right to an equal share?\"\n\nThus having spoken he turned to the Hodjas with an inquiring look.\nThey one and all, unanimously, and in a breath said, that all the\nlegal formalities having been carried out, the will of the father was\nlaw, and the law he passed should be respected, therefore the\nthirteenth son was an impostor. On returning he should have gone to\nhis brothers, and no doubt he would have been received as a brother,\nbut he acted otherwise. He should receive nothing.\n\n\"I am glad to see that you look at it in that light, and I will now\nsay that that has always been my opinion, but your statement now adds\nstrength to the conviction, and had there been any doubt on my part,\nyour unanimous declaration would have dispelled it. I would further\nesteem it a great kindness and a favor if, as a reference and as a\nproof of my authority, or rather as a corroboration of many proofs,\nyou would, as you are sitting in lawful Divan, give your signatures to\nthe effect that the decision of the learned council was unanimous, and\nto this said effect, that the thirteenth son was an impostor, and had\nno right to any of the possessions he claimed.\"\n\nFlattered that their opinion had such weight, the judges also\nconsented to do this, and the Patriarch set about drawing up the case.\nThis he read to them, and each put his hand and seal to the document.\n\nThe Patriarch thanked them and departed.\n\nA week had passed, and the judges had entirely forgotten the case that\nhad been put to them, but they had not forgotten the Patriarch, and\neagerly awaited his answer to their question which left no\nalternative, and which would cause his head to be separated from his\nbody by a blow of the executioner. But the Patriarch did not make his\nappearance, and as the prescribed time had passed, the judges went to\nthe Governor to see what steps should be taken.\n\nThe Governor was deeply grieved when the judges told him of the\nterrible question they had put to the Patriarch, yet remembering\nleaving that morning the Patriarch who had been with him, and who\nseemed in no wise anxious, he said that he was convinced that either a\nsatisfactory answer had been given or would be forthcoming. He\nquestioned the Hodjas as to what had taken place, and they answered\nthat nothing had been said beyond the question that had been put to\nhim and his request for a week's time in which to answer.\n\n\"Did he say nothing at all,\" asked the Pasha, \"before he left?\"\n\n\"Nothing,\" said the spokesman of the judges, \"except that he put to us\na case which he had been called on to decide and asked our opinion.\"\n\n\"What was this case?\" asked the Pasha. And the judges recited it to\nhim, told what opinion they had given, and stated that they had, at\nthe Patriarch's request and for his use, placed their seal to this\nopinion.\n\n\"Go home, you heads of asses,\" said the Governor, \"and thank Allah\nthat it is to a noble and a great man who would make no unworthy use\nof it that you have delivered a document testifying that Mohammed is\nan impostor. In future, venture not to enter into judgment with men\nwhom it has pleased God to give more wit than to yourselves.\"\n\n\n\n\nPARADISE SOLD BY THE YARD\n\n\nThe chief Imam of the Vilayet of Broussa owed to a Jew money-lender\nthe sum of two hundred piasters. The Jew wanted his money and would\ngive no rest to the Imam. Daily he came to ask for it, but without\nsuccess. The Jew was becoming very anxious and determined to make a\ngreat effort. Not being able to take the Imam to court, he decided to\ntry and shame him into paying the sum due; and to effect this, he\ncame, sat on his debtor's doorstep and bewailed his sad fate in having\nfallen into the hands of a tyrant. The Imam saw that if this\ncontinued, his reputation as a man of justice would be considerably\nimpaired, so he thought of a plan by which to pay off his creditor.\nCalling the Jew into his house, he said:\n\n\"Friend, what wilt thou do with the money if I pay thee?\"\n\n\"Get food, clothe my children, and advance in my business,\" answered\nthe Jew.\n\n\"My friend,\" said the Imam, \"thy pitiful position awakens my\ncompassion. Thou art gathering wealth in this world at the cost of thy\nsoul and peace in the world to come; and I wish I could help thee. I\nwill tell thee what I will do for thee. I would not do the same thing\nfor any other Jew in the world, but thou hast awakened my\ncommiseration. For the debt I owe thee, I will sell thee two hundred\nyards of Paradise, and being owner of this incomparable possession in\nthe world to come, thou canst fearlessly go forth and earn as much as\npossible in this world, having already made ample provision for the\nnext.\"\n\nWhat could the Jew do but take what the Imam was willing to give him?\nSo he accepted the deed for the two hundred yards of Paradise. A happy\nthought now struck the Jew. He set off and found the tithe-collector\nof the revenues of the mosque, and made friends with him. He then\nexplained to him, when the intimacy had developed, how he was the\npossessor of a deed entitling him to two hundred yards of Paradise,\nand offered the collector a handsome commission if he would help him\nin disposing of it. When the money had been gathered for the quarter,\nthe collector came and discounted the Imam's document, returning it to\nhim as two hundred piasters of the tithes collected, with the\nstatement that this document had been given to him by a peasant, and\nthat bearing his holy seal, he dared not refuse it.\n\nThe Imam was completely deceived, and thought that the Jew had sold\nthe deed at a discount to some of his subjects who were in arrears,\nand of course had to receive it as being as good as gold. Nevertheless\nthe Jew was not forgotten, and the Imam determined to have him taken\ninto court and sentenced if possible. His charge against the Jew was\nthat he, the chief priest of the province, had taken pity on this\nJew, thinking what a terrible thing it was to know no future, and as\nthe man hitherto had an irreproachable character, in consideration of\na small debt he had against the church, which it was desirable to\nbalance, he thought he would give this Jew two hundred yards of\nParadise, which he did.\n\n\"Now, gentlemen, this ungrateful dog sold this valuable document, and\nit was brought back to me as payment of taxes in arrears due to the\nchurch. Therefore, I say that this Jew has committed a great sin and\nought to be punished accordingly.\"\n\nThe Cadis now turned to hear the Jew, who, the personification of\nmeekness, stood as if awaiting his death sentence. With the most\ninnocent look possible, the Jew replied, when the Cadis asked him what\nhe had to say for himself:\n\n\"Effendim, it is needless to say how I appreciate the kindness of our\nImam, but the reason that I disposed of that valuable document was\nthis: When I went to Paradise I found a seat, and measured out my two\nhundred yards, and took possession of the further inside end of the\nbench. I had not been there long when a Turk came and sat beside me. I\nshowed him my document and protested against his taking part of my\nseat; but, gentlemen, I assure you it was altogether useless; the\nTurks came and came, one after the other, till, to make a long story\nshort, I fell off at the other end of the seat, and here I am. The\nTurks in Paradise will take no heed of your document, and either will\nnot recognize the authority of the Imam, or will not let the Jews\nenter therein.\n\n\"Effendim, what could I do but come back and sell the document to men\nwho could enter Paradise, and this I did.\"\n\nThe Cadis, after consulting, gave judgment as follows:\n\n\"We note that you could not have done anything else but sell the two\nhundred yards of Paradise, and the fact that you cannot enter there is\nample punishment for the wrong committed; but there is still a\ngrievous charge against you, which, if you can clear to our\nsatisfaction, you will at once be dismissed. How much did the document\ncost you and what did you sell it for?\"\n\n\"Effendim, it cost me two hundred piasters, and I sold it for two\nhundred piasters.\"\n\nThis statement having been proved by producing the deed in question,\nand the tithe-collector who had given it to the Imam for two hundred\npiasters, the Jew was acquitted.\n\n\n\n\nJEW TURNED TURK\n\n\nSirkedji, the landing-place on the Stamboul side of the Golden Horn,\nis always a scene of bustle and noise. The Caiquedjis, striving for\ncustom, cry at the top of their voices: \"I am bound for Haskeuy; I can\ntake another man; my fare is a piaster!\"\n\nOthers call in lusty tones, that they are bound for Karakeuy. Further\nout in the stream are other caiques, bound for more distant places,\nsome with a passenger or two, others without. In one of these sat a\nJew patiently waiting, while the Caiquedji, standing erect, backed in\nand out, every now and then calling at the top of his voice:\n'Iuskidar,' meaning that he was bound for Scutari, on the Asiatic\nshore.\n\nAt last a Mussulman signed to him to approach, and inquired his fare.\nAfter some bargaining, the Turk entered the caique, and the boatman\nstill held on to the pier in the hope of securing a third passenger,\nwhich, after a very short time, he did. The third passenger happened\nto be a Jew, who had forsaken his faith for that of Islam.\n\nThis converted individual saw at a glance that one of his\nfellow-passengers was a Moslem and the other a Jew, and wishing to\ngain favor in the eyes of the former, he called the other a 'Yahoudi'\n(meaning Jew, but usually employed as a term of disdain) and told him\nto make room for him. This the Jew meekly did, without a murmur, and\nthe Caiquedji bent his oars for the Asiatic shore. The converted Jew\nand the Turk started a conversation, which they kept up till within a\nshort distance of Scutari, when the Turk turned and said to the Jew,\nwho had humbly been sitting on the low seat with bowed head and closed\neyes:\n\n\"And what have you to say on the subject, Moses?\"\n\n\"Alas! Pasha Effendi,\" answered the Jew, \"I have been asleep, and have\nnot followed your conversation; and if I had, what worth could my\nopinion be, I, a poor Jew?\"\n\nThe converted Jew then said: \"At least, you can tell us, to pass the\ntime, where you have been in your sleep?\" and he burst out laughing,\nthinking it a capital joke.\n\n\"I dreamt I was in Paradise,\" replied the poor Jew. \"Oh! it was\nwonderful! There were three great golden gates, and on the inside, at\nthe side of the keeper of each gate, stood Mohammed at one, Moses at\nthe other, and Jesus at the third. No one was allowed to pass into\nParadise, unless Mohammed, Moses, or Jesus gave the order that they\nshould pass. At Mohammed's gate a man knocked, and on being opened,\nthe keeper asked:\n\n\"'What is your name?' to which he replied, 'Ahmet.'\n\n\"'And your father's name?' again asked the keeper. 'Abdullah.'\n\n\"And the prophet signed with his hand that he might enter.\n\n\"I then went to the gate where Jesus stood, and heard the same\nquestions put to an applicant. He told the keeper that his name was\nAristide, and that his father's name was Vassili, and Jesus permitted\nhim to enter.\n\n\"Hearing a loud knocking at Mohammed's gate again, I hurried to see\nwho the important comer was. There stood a man of confident mien, who\nproudly answered that his name was Hussein Effendi.\n\n\"'And your father's name?' asked the keeper. 'Abraham,' replied\nHussein. At this Mohammed said: 'Shut the door; you can't enter here;\nmixtures will not do.'\"\n\n\"Eh! What happened next?\" asked the Turk.\n\n\"Just then, as the gate was shutting, I heard your voice and I awoke,\nPasha Effendi,\" answered the Jew; \"and so I can't tell you.\"\n\nAnd as they approached the Scala (landing), they disembarked at\nScutari and separated without a word.\n\n\n\n\nTHE METAMORPHOSIS\n\n\nHussein Agha was much troubled in spirit and mind. He had saved a\nlarge sum of money in order that he might make the pilgrimage to\nMecca. What troubled him was, that after having carefully provided for\nall the expenses of this long journey there still remained a few\nhundred piasters over and above. What was he to do with these? True,\nthey could be distributed amongst the poor, but then, might not he, on\nhis return, require the money for even a more meritorious purpose?\n\nAfter much consideration, he decided that it was not Allah's wish that\nhe should at once give this money in charity. On the other hand, he\nfelt convinced that he should not give it to a brother for safe\nkeeping, as he might be inspired, during Hussein's pilgrimage, to\nspend it on some charitable purpose. After a time he thought of a\nkindly Jew who was his neighbor, and decided to leave his savings in\nthe hands of this man, to whom Allah had been good, seeing that his\npossessions were great. After mature thought he decided not to put\ntemptation in the way of his neighbor. He therefore secured a jar, at\nthe bottom of which he placed a small bag containing his surplus of\nwealth, and filled it with olives. This he carried to his neighbor,\nand begged him to take care of it for him. Ben Moise of course\nconsented, and Hussein Agha departed on his pilgrimage, contented.\n\nOn his return from the Holy Land, Hussein, now a Hadji, repaired to\nBen Moise and asked for his jar of olives, and at the same time\npresented Ben Moise with a rosary of Yemen stones, in recognition of\nthe service rendered him in the safe keeping of the olives, which, he\nsaid, were exceptionally palatable. Ben Moise thanked him, and Hadji\nHussein departed with his jar, well satisfied.\n\nDuring the absence of Hussein Agha, it happened that Ben Moise had\nsome distinguished visitors, to whom, as is the Eastern custom, he\nserved raki. Unfortunately, however, he had no meze (appetizer) to\noffer, as is also the custom in the East. Ben Moise bethought him of\nthe olives and immediately went to the cellar, opened the jar, and\nextracted some of them, saying: \"Olives are not rare; Hussein will\nnever know the difference if I replace them.\"\n\nThe olives were found excellent, and Ben Moise again and again helped\nhis friends to them. Great was his surprise when he found that instead\nof olives, he brought forth a bag containing a quantity of gold. Ben\nMoise could not understand this phenomenon, but appropriated the gold\nand held his peace.\n\nArriving home, poor Hussein Agha was distracted to find that his jar\ncontained nothing but olives. Vainly did he protest to Ben Moise.\n\n\"My friend,\" he would reply, \"you gave me the jar, saying it contained\nolives. I believed you and kept the jar safe for you. Now you say that\nin the jar you had put some money together with the olives; perhaps\nyou did, but is not that the jar you gave me? If, as you say, there\nwas gold in the jar and it is now gone, all I can say is, the stronger\nhas overcome the weaker, and that in this case the gold has either\nbeen converted into olives or into oil. What can I do? The jar you\ngave me I returned to you.\"\n\nHadji Hussein admitted this, and fully appreciated that he had no case\nagainst the Jew, so saying: 'Chok shai!' he returned to his home.\n\nThat night Hussein mingled in his prayers a vow to recover his gold at\nno matter what cost or trouble.\n\nIn his younger days Hadji Hussein had been a pipe-maker, and many were\nthe chibooks of exceptional beauty that he had made. Go but to the\npotters' lane at Tophane, and the works of art displayed by the\nmajority of them have been fashioned by the hands of Hussein. The art\nthat had fed him for years was now to be the means of recovering his\nmoney.\n\nHadji Hussein daily met Ben Moise but he never again referred to the\nmoney, and further, Hussein's sons were always in company with Ben\nMoise's only son, a lad of ten.\n\nTime passed, and Ben Moise entirely forgot about the jar, olives, and\ngold; not so Hadji Hussein. He had been working. First he had made an\neffigy of Ben Moise. When he had completed this image to his\nsatisfaction, he dressed it in the identical manner and costume the\nJew habitually wore. He then purchased a monkey. This monkey was kept\nin a cage opposite the effigy of Ben Moise. Twice a day regularly the\nmonkey's food was placed on the shoulders of the Jew, and Hussein\nwould open the cage, saying: \"Babai git\" (go to your father). At a\nbound the monkey would plant himself on the shoulders of the Jew, and\nwould not be dislodged until its hunger had been satisfied.\n\nIn the meantime Hadji Hussein and Ben Moise were greater friends than\never, and their children were likewise playmates. One day Hussein took\nBen Moise's son to his Harem and told him, much to the lad's joy, that\nhe was to be their guest for a week. Later on Ben Moise called on\nHadji Hussein to know the reason of his son's not returning as usual\nat sundown.\n\n\"Ah, my friend,\" said Hussein, \"a great calamity has befallen you!\nYour son, alas! has been converted into a monkey, a furious monkey! So\nfurious that I was compelled to put him into a cage. Come and see for\nyourself.\"\n\nNo sooner did Ben Moise enter the room in which the caged monkey was,\nthan it set up a howl, not having had any food that day. Poor Ben\nMoise was thunderstruck, and Hadji Hussein begged him to take the\nmonkey away.\n\nNext day Hussein was summoned to the court, the case of Ben Moise was\nheard, and the Hadji was ordered to return the child at once. This he\nvowed he could not do, and to convince the judges he offered to bring\nthe monkey caged as it was to the court, and, Inshallah, they would\nsee for themselves that the child of the Jew had been converted into a\nmonkey. This was ultimately agreed to, and the monkey was brought.\nHadji Hussein took special care to place the cage opposite Ben Moise,\nand no sooner did the monkey catch sight of him than it set up a\nscream, and the judges said: 'Chok shai!' Hussein Agha then opened the\ncage door, saying: \"Go to your father,\" and the monkey with a bound\nand a yell embraced Ben Moise, putting his head, in search of food,\nfirst on one shoulder of the Jew and then on the other. The judges\nwere thunderstruck, and declared their incompetency to give judgment\nin such a case. Ben Moise protested, saying that it was against the\nlaws of nature for such a metamorphosis to take place, whereupon Hadji\nHussein told the judges of an analogous instance of some gold pieces\nturning into olives, and called upon Ben Moise to witness the veracity\nof his statement. The judges, much perplexed, dismissed the case,\ndeclaring that provision had not been made in the law for it, and\nthere being no precedent to their knowledge they were incompetent to\ngive judgment.\n\nLeaving the court, Hadji Hussein informed Ben Moise that there would\nstill be pleasure and happiness in this world for him, provided he\ncould reconvert the olives into gold. Needless to add that Ben Moise\nhanded the money to Hadji Hussein, and the heir of Ben Moise returned\nto his home none the worse for his transformation.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CALIF OMAR\n\n\nThe Calif Omar, one of the first Califs after the Prophet, is deeply\nvenerated to this day, and is continually quoted as a lover of truth\nand justice. Often in the face of appalling evidence he refrained from\njudgment, thus liberating the innocent and punishing the guilty. The\nfollowing is given as an example of his perseverance in fathoming a\nmurder.\n\nAt the feast of the Passover, a certain Jew of Bagdad had sacrificed\nhis sheep and was offering up his prayers, when suddenly a dog came\nin, and snatching up the sheep's head ran off with it. The Jew pursued\nin hot haste, in his excitement still carrying the bloody knife and\nwearing his besmeared apron. The dog, carrying the sheep's head,\nrushed into an open doorway, followed closely by the Jew. The Jew in\nhis hurried pursuit fell over the body of what proved to be a murdered\nman. The murder was laid against the Jew, and witnesses swore that\nthey had seen him coming out of the house covered with blood, and in\nhis hand a bloody dagger. The Jew was arrested and tried, but with\ncovered head he swore by his forefathers and children that he was\ninnocent. Omar would not condemn him as none of the witnesses had seen\nthe Jew do the deed, and until further evidence had been given to\nprove his guilt the case was adjourned. Spies and detectives, unknown\nto anybody, were put to track the murderers. After a time they were\ndiscovered, condemned, put to death, and the Jew liberated.\n\n\n\n\nKALAIDJI AVRAM OF BALATA\n\n\nBalata, situated on the Golden Horn, is mostly inhabited by Jews of\nthe poorer classes, who make their livelihood as tinsmiths, tinkers,\nand hawkers.\n\nHere, in the early days when the Janissaries flourished, there lived a\ncertain tinsmith called Kalaidji Avram. Having rather an extensive\nbusiness, his neighbors, especially those who lived nearest, were\nalways complaining of the annoying smoke and disagreeable odor of\nammonia which he used in tinning his pots and pans.\n\nOpposite Avram's place the village guard-house was situated, and the\nchief, a Janissary, often had disputes with Avram about the smoke.\nAvram would invariably reply: \"I have my children to feed and I must\nwork; and without smoke I cannot earn their daily bread.\"\n\nThe Janissary, much annoyed, cultivated a dislike for Avram and a\nthirst for revenge.\n\nIt happened that a Jew one day came to the Janissary and said to him:\n\"Do you want to make a fortune? if so, you have the means of doing\nthis, provided you will agree to halve with me whatever is made.\"\n\nThe Janissary, on being assured that he had but to say a word or two\nto a person he would designate and the money would be forthcoming,\naccepted the conditions. The Jew then said: \"All you have to do is to\ngo up to a Jewish funeral procession that will pass by here to-morrow\non its way to the necropolis outside the city, and order it to stop.\nIt is against the religion of the Jews for such a thing to happen, and\nthe Chacham (rabbi) will offer you first ten, then twenty, and finally\none hundred and ten thousand piasters to allow the funeral to proceed.\nThe half will be for you to compensate you for your trouble and the\nother fifty-five thousand piasters for me.\"\n\nThis, as the Jew had told him, seemed very simple to the Janissary.\nThe next day, true enough, he beheld a funeral, and immediately went\nout and ordered it to stop. The Chacham protested, offering first\nsmall bribes, then larger and larger, till ultimately he promised to\nbring to the worthy captain one hundred and ten thousand piasters for\nallowing the funeral to proceed.\n\nThat evening, as agreed, the Chacham came and handed the money to the\ncaptain of the Janissaries. Then taking another bag containing a\nsecond one hundred and ten thousand piasters, he said: \"If you will\ntell me who informed you that we would pay so much money rather than\nhave a funeral stopped, you can have this further sum.\"\n\nThe Janissary immediately bethought him of Avram, the tinsmith, and\naccused him as his informant, and the Chacham, satisfied, paid the sum\nand departed.\n\nAvram disappeared nobody knew where. The Chacham said that death had\ntaken him for his own as a punishment for stopping him while on a\njourney.\n\nThe accomplice of the Janissary came a few days later for his share of\nthe money. The Janissary handed him the fifty-five thousand piasters,\nand at the same time said: \"Of these fifty-five thousand piasters,\nthirty thousand must be given to the widow and children of Avram, and\nI advise you to give it willingly, for Avram has taken your place.\"\n\n\n\n\nHOW MEHMET ALI PASHA OF EGYPT ADMINISTERED JUSTICE\n\n\nA Jewish merchant was in the habit of borrowing, and sometimes of\nlending money to an Armenian merchant of Cairo. Receipts were never\nexchanged, but at the closing of an old account or the opening of a\nnew one they would simply say to each other, I have debited or\ncredited you in my books, as the case might be, with so much.\n\nOn one occasion the Armenian lent the Jew the sum of twenty-five\nthousand piasters, and after the usual verbal acknowledgment the\nArmenian made his entry. A reasonable time having elapsed, the\nArmenian sent his greetings to the Jew. This, in Eastern etiquette,\nmeant, 'Kindly pay me what you owe.' The Jew, however, did not take\nthe hint but returned complimentary greetings to the Armenian. This\nwas repeated several times. Finally, the Armenian sent a message\nrequesting the Jew to call upon him. The Jew, however, told the\nmessenger to inform the Armenian merchant, that if he wished to see\nhim, he must come to his house. The Armenian called upon the Jew, and\nrequested payment of the loan. The Jew brought out his books and\nshowed the Armenian that he was both credited and debited with the sum\nof twenty-five thousand piasters. The Armenian protested, but in vain;\nthe Jew maintained that the debt had been paid.\n\nIn the hope of recovering his money, the Armenian had the case brought\nbefore Mehmet Ali Pasha of Egypt, a clever and learned judge. No\nwitnesses, however, could be cited to prove that the money had either\nbeen borrowed or repaid. The entries were verified, and it was thought\nthat perhaps the Armenian had forgotten. Before dismissing the case,\nhowever, Mehmet Ali Pasha called in the Public Weigher and ordered\nthat both the Armenian and Jewish merchants be weighed. This done,\nMehmet Ali Pasha took note of their respective weights. The Jew\nweighed fifty okes and the Armenian sixty okes. He then discharged\nthem, saying that he would send for them later on.\n\nThe Armenian waited patiently for a month or two, but no summons came\nfrom the Pasha. Every Friday he endeavored to meet the Pasha so as to\nbring the case to his mind, but without avail; for the Pasha,\nperceiving him from a distance, would turn away his head or otherwise\npurposely avoid catching his eye. At last, after about eight months of\nanxious waiting, the Armenian and the Jew were summoned to appear\nbefore the court. Mehmet Ali Pasha, in opening the case, called in the\nPublic Weigher and had them weighed again. On this occasion it was\nfound that the Armenian had decreased, now only weighing fifty okes,\nfor worry makes a man grow thin; but the Jew, on the contrary, had put\non several okes. These facts were gravely considered, and the Pasha\naccused the Jew of having received the money and at once ordered the\nbrass pot to be heated and placed on his head to force confession. The\nJew did not care to submit to this fearful ordeal, so he confessed\nthat he had not repaid the debt, and had to do so then and there.\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE FARMER LEARNED TO CURE HIS WIFE--A TURKISH AESOP\n\n\nThere once lived a farmer who understood the language of animals. He\nhad obtained this knowledge on condition that he would never reveal\nits possession, and with the further provision that should he prove\nfalse to his oath the penalty would be certain death.\n\nOne day he chanced to listen to a conversation his ox and his horse\nwere having. The ox had just come in from a weary and hard day's work\nin the rain.\n\n\"Oh,\" sighed the ox, looking over to the horse, \"how fortunate you are\nto have been born a horse and not an ox. When the weather is bad you\nare kept in the stable, well fed, groomed every morning, and caressed\nevery evening. Oh that I were a horse!\"\n\n\"What you say is true,\" replied the horse, \"but you are very stupid to\nwork so hard.\"\n\n\"You do not know what it is to be goaded with a spear and howled at,\nor you would not accuse me of being stupid to work so hard,\" replied\nthe ox.\n\n\"Then why don't you feign sickness,\" continued the horse.\n\nOn the following day the ox determined to try this deceit, but he was\nstung with remorse when he saw the horse led out to take his place at\nthe plough. In the evening, when the horse was brought to the stable\nvery tired, the ox sympathized with him, and regretted his being the\ncause, but at the same time expressed astonishment at his working so\nhard.\n\n\"Ah, my friend, I had to work hard; I can't bear the whip; the thought\nof the hideous crack! crack! makes me shiver even now,\" answered the\nhorse.\n\n\"But leaving that aside, my poor horned friend,\" proceeded the horse,\n\"I am now most anxious for you. I heard the master say to-night that\nif you were not well in the morning, the butcher was to come and\nslaughter you.\"\n\n\"You need not worry about me, friend horse,\" said the ox, \"as I much\nprefer the yoke to chewing the cud of self-reproach.\"\n\nAt this point the farmer left the animals and entered his home,\nsmiling at his own wily craft in re-establishing, if not\ncontentedness, at least resignation to their fate, in the stable.\nMeeting his wife, she at once inquired as to the cause of his happy\nsmile. He put her off, first with one excuse then with another, but to\nno avail; the more he protested, the stronger her inquisitiveness\ngrew. Her unsatisfied curiosity at length made her ill. The endeavors\nof the numerous doctors brought to her assistance were as futile as\nthe incantations of the sages from far and near, and as powerless to\nremove the spell as were the amulets, the charms, and the abracadabras\nconceived and written by holy men. The evil prompting gnawed her, and\nshe visibly pined away. The poor farmer was distracted. Rather than\nsee her die, he at last decided to tell her, and forfeit his own life\nto save hers. Deeply dejected, for no man quits this planet without a\npang, he sat at the window gazing, as he thought, for the last time on\nthe familiar surroundings. Of a sudden he noticed his favorite\nchanticleer, followed by his numerous harem, sadly strutting about,\nonly allowing his favorites to eat the morsels he discovered, and\nruthlessly driving the others away. To one he said: \"I am not like our\npoor master, to be ruled by one or a score of you. He, poor man, will\ndie to-day for revealing his secret knowledge to save her life.\"\n\n\"What is the secret knowledge?\" asked one of the wives; and the\nchanticleer flew at her and thrashed her mercilessly, saying at each\nvigorous blow, \"That is the secret, and if our master only treated the\nmistress as I treat you, he would not need to give up his life\nto-day.\"\n\nAnd as if maddened at the thought, he beat them all in turn. The\nmaster, seeing and appreciating the effect from the window, went to\nhis wife and treated her in precisely the same manner. And this\neffected what neither doctors, sages, nor holy men could do--it cured\nher.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LANGUAGE OF BIRDS\n\n\nThere once lived a Hodja who, it was said, understood the language of\nbirds, but refused to impart his knowledge. One young man was very\npersistent in his desire to know the language of these sweet\ncreatures, but the Hodja was inflexible.\n\nIn despair, the young man went to the woods at least to listen to the\npleasant chirping of the birds. By degrees it conveyed to him a\nmeaning, till, finally, he understood them to tell him that his horse\nwould die. On returning from the woods, he immediately sold his horse\nand went and told the Hodja.\n\n\"Oh Hodja, why will you not teach me the language of birds? Yesterday\nI went to the woods and they warned me that my horse would die, thus\naffording me an opportunity of selling it and avoiding the loss.\"\n\nThe Hodja was silent, but would not give way.\n\nThe following day the young man again went to the woods, and the\nchirping of the birds told him that his house would be burned. The\nyoung man hurried away, sold his house, again went to the Hodja and\ntold him all that had happened, adding:\n\n\"See, Hodja Effendi, you would not teach me the language of the birds,\nbut I have saved my horse and my house by listening to them.\"\n\nOn the following day, the young man again went to the woods, and the\nbirds chirped him the doleful tale, that on the following day he would\ndie. In tears the young man went to the Hodja for advice.\n\n\"Oh Hodja Effendi! Alas! What am I to do? The birds have told me that\nto-morrow I must die.\"\n\n\"My son,\" answered the Hodja, \"I knew this would come, and that is\nwhy I refused to teach you the language of birds. Had you borne the\nloss of your horse, your house would have been saved, and had your\nhouse been burned, your life would have been saved.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE SWALLOW'S ADVICE\n\n\nA man one day saw a swallow and caught it. The bird pleaded hard for\nliberty, saying:\n\n\"If thou wilt let me go, thy gain will be great, for I will give thee\nthree counsels that will hereafter be of use to thee.\"\n\nThe man listened to the bird and let it go. Flying to a tree close by\nit perched on a branch, and said:\n\n\"Hearken and give thine ear to the three advices that will guide thee.\nThe first is, do not believe things that are incredible; the second\nis, do not attempt to stretch out thine hand to a place thou art\nunable to reach; and the third advice I give thee is, do not pine\nafter a thing that is past and gone. Take these my counsels and do not\nforget them.\"\n\nThe bird then tempted the man, saying: \"Inside of me there is a large\npearl of great value; it is both magnificent and splendid, and as\nlarge as the egg of a kite.\"\n\nNow, hearing this, the man repented at having let the bird go, the\ncolor of his face went to sadness, and he at once stretched out his\nhand to catch the swallow, but the latter said to the foolish man:\n\n\"What! Hast thou already forgotten the advice I gave thee, and the lie\nwhich I told thee, hast thou considered as true? I had fallen into thy\nhands, yet thou wert unable to retain me, and now thou art sorrowing\nfor the past for which there is no remedy.\"\n\nSuch are those that worship idols, and give the name of God to their\nown handiwork. They have left aside God Almighty, and have forgotten\nthe Great Bestower of all good gifts.\n\n\n\n\nWE KNOW NOT WHAT THE DAWN MAY BRING FORTH\n\n\nIn the age of the Janissaries the Minister of War, in all haste,\ncalled the chief farrier of the Army and ordered him to have made\nimmediately two hundred thousand horseshoes. The farrier was aghast,\nand explained that to make such a quantity of horseshoes, both time\nand smiths would be required. The Minister replied:\n\n\"It is the order of his Majesty that these two hundred thousand\nhorseshoes be ready by to-morrow; if not, your head will pay the\npenalty.\"\n\nThe poor farrier replied, that knowing now that he was doomed he would\nbe unable, through nervousness, to make even a fifth of the number.\nThe Minister would not listen to reason, and left in anger,\nreiterating the order of his Majesty.\n\nThe farrier retired to his rooms deeply dejected. His wife,\nwoman-like, endeavored to encourage and comfort him, saying:\n\n\"Cheer up, husband, drink your raki, eat your meze, and be cheerful,\nfor we know not what the dawn may bring forth.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said the farrier, \"the dawn will not bring forth two hundred\nthousand horseshoes, and my head will pay the penalty.\"\n\nLate that night there was a tremendous knocking at his door. The poor\nfarrier thought that it was an inquiry as to how many horseshoes were\nalready made, and trembling with fear went and opened the door. What\nwas his surprise, when on opening the door and inquiring the object of\nthe visit, to be greeted with:\n\n\"Haste, farrier, let us have sixteen nails, for the Minister of War\nhas been suddenly removed to Paradise by the hand of Allah.\"\n\nThe farrier gathered, not sixteen but forty nails of the best he had,\nand, handing them to the messenger, said:\n\n\"Nail him down well, friend, so that he will not get up again, for had\nnot this happened, the nails would have been required to keep me in my\ncoffin.\"\n\n\n\n\nOLD MEN MADE YOUNG\n\n\nIn Psamatia, an ancient Armenian village situated near the Seven\nTowers, there lived a certain smith, whose custom it was, in\ncontradiction to prescribed rules, to curse the devil and his works\nregularly five times a day instead of praying to God. He argued that\nit is the devil's fault that man had need to pray. The devil was\nangered at being thus persistently cursed, and decided to punish the\nsmith, or at least prevent his causing further trouble.\n\nTaking the form of a young man he went to the smith and engaged\nhimself as an apprentice. After a time the devil told the smith that\nhe had a very poor and mean way of earning a living, and that he would\nshow him how money was to be made. The smith asked what he, a young\napprentice, could do. Thereupon the devil told him that he was endowed\nwith a great gift: the power to make old men young again. Though\nincredulous, after continued assurance the smith allowed a sign to be\nput above his door, stating that aged people could here be restored to\nyouth. This extraordinary sign attracted a great many, but the devil\nasked such high prices that most went away, preferring age to parting\nwith so much money.\n\nAt last one old man agreed to pay the sum demanded by the devil,\nwhereupon he was promptly cast into the furnace, the master-smith\nblowing the bellows for a small remuneration. After a time of vigorous\nblowing the devil raked out a young man. The fame of the smith\nextended far and wide, and many were the aged that came to regain\ntheir youth. This lucrative business went on for some time, and at\nlast the smith, thinking to himself that it was not a difficult thing\nto throw a man into the furnace and rake him out from the ashes\nrestored to youth, decided to do away with his apprentice's services,\nbut kept the sign above the door.\n\nIt happened that the captain of the Janissaries, who was a very aged\nman, came to him, and after bargaining for a much more modest sum than\nhis apprentice would have asked, the smith thrust him into the furnace\nas the devil, his apprentice, used to do, and worked at the bellows.\nHe afterwards raked in the fire for the young man but he only raked\nout cinders and ashes. Great was his consternation, but what could he\ndo?\n\nThe devil in the meantime went to the head of the Janissaries and the\npolice, and informed them of what had taken place. The poor smith was\narrested, tried, and condemned to be bowstrung, as it was proved that\nthe Janissary was last seen to enter his shop.\n\nJust as the smith was about to be executed, the devil again appeared\nbefore him in the form of the discharged apprentice, and asked him if\nhe wished to be saved; if so, that he could save him, but on one\ncondition only,--that he ceased from cursing the devil five times a\nday and pray as other Mussulmans prayed. He agreed. Thereupon the\napprentice called in a loud voice to those who were about to execute\nhim: \"What will you of this man? He has not killed the Janissary; he\nis not dead, for I have just seen him entering his home.\" This was\nfound to be true, and the smith was liberated, learning the truth of\nthe proverb, 'Curse not even the devil.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE BRIBE\n\n\nThere once lived in Stamboul a man and wife who were so well mated\nthat though married for a number of years their life was one of ideal\nharmony. This troubled the devil very much. He had destroyed the peace\nof home after home; he had successfully created, between husband and\nwife, father and son and brothers, the chasm of envy wide and deep, so\nwide that the bridge of life could not span the gap. In this one\nlittle home alone did he fail in spite of his greatest endeavor. One\nday the devil was talking to an old woman, when the man who had thus\nfar baffled him passed by. The devil groaned at the thought of his\nrepeated failures. Turning to the old woman he said:\n\n\"I will give you as a reward a pair of yellow slippers if you make\nthat man quarrel with his wife.\"\n\nThe old woman was delighted, and at once began to scheme and work for\nthe coveted slippers. At an hour when she was sure to find the lady\nalone, she went and solicited alms, weeping and bemoaning her sad fate\nat being a lonely old woman whose husband was long since dead. She\nappealed to the lady for compassion in proportion as she hoped for the\nduration of the cup she and her husband quaffed in undivided\nhappiness. The lady was very generous to the old woman, each day\ngiving her something; so much so, that the thought that her good\nhusband might think her extravagant often gave her some uneasiness.\n\nOne day the old woman looked into the shop-door of her benefactress's\nhusband and planted the first evil seed by calling out:\n\n\"Ah! if men only knew where the money they work for from morning till\nnight goes, or knew what their wives did when they were away, some\nhomes would not be so happy.\"\n\nThe evil woman then went her way, and the good shopman wondered why\nshe had said these words to him. A passing thought suggested that it\nwas strange that of late his wife had asked him several times for a\nfew extra piasters. The next day, the old woman as usual solicited\nalms of her victim. In the fulness of her hypocrisy she embraced the\nyoung lady before departing, taking care to leave the imprint of her\nblackened hand on her dupe's back. The old woman then again went to\nthe shop, looked at her victim's husband, and said:\n\n\"Oh! how blind men are! They only look in a woman's face for truth and\nloyalty; they forget to look at the back where the stamp of the\nlover's hand is to be seen.\"\n\nAs before, the old woman disappeared. But the mind of the shopman was\ntroubled and his heart was heavy. In this oppressed state he went to\nhis home, and an opportunity offering he looked at his wife's back,\nand was aghast to see there the impression of a hand. He got up and\nleft his home, a broken-hearted man.\n\nThe devil was deeply impressed at the signal success of the old woman,\nand hastened to redeem his promise. He took a long pole, tied the pair\nof slippers at the end, and hurried off to the old woman. Arriving at\nher house he called out to her to open the window. When she did this,\nhe thrust in the pair of yellow slippers, begging her to take them,\nbut not to come near him; they were hard-earned slippers, he said; she\nhad succeeded where he had failed; so that he was afraid of her and\nwas anxious to keep out of her way.\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE DEVIL LOST HIS WAGER\n\n\nA peasant, ploughing his field, was panting with fatigue, when the\ndevil appeared before him and said:\n\n\"Oh, poor man! you complain of your lot, and with justice; for your\nlabor is not that of a man, but is as heavy as that of a beast of\nburden. Now I have made a wager that I shall find a contented man; so\ngive me the handle of your plough and the goad of your oxen, that I\nmay do the work for you.\"\n\nThe peasant consenting, the devil touched the oxen and in one turn of\nthe plough all the furrows of the field were opened up and the work\nfinished.\n\n\"Is it well done?\" asked the devil.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the man, \"but seed is very dear this year.\"\n\nIn answer to this, the devil shook his long tail in the air, and lo,\nlittle seeds began to fall like hail from the sky.\n\n\"I hope,\" said the devil, \"that I have gained my wager.\"\n\n\"Bah,\" answered the peasant, \"what's the good of that? These seeds\nmight be lost. You do not take into consideration frost, blighting\nwinds, drought, damp, storms, diseases of plants, and other things.\nHow can I judge as yet?\"\n\n\"Behold,\" said the devil, \"in this box are both sun and rain, take it\nand use it as you please.\"\n\nThe peasant did so and to very good purpose, for his corn soon ripened\nand up to that time he had never seen so good a harvest. But the corn\nof his neighbors had also prospered from the rain and sun.\n\nAt harvest time the devil came, and saw that the man was looking with\nenvious eyes at his neighbor's fields where the corn was as good as\nhis own.\n\n\"Have you been able to obtain what you desired?\" asked the devil.\n\n\"Alas!\" answered the man, \"all the barns will break down under the\nweight of the sheaves. The grain will be sold at a low price. This\nfine harvest will make me sit on ashes.\"\n\nWhile he was speaking, the devil had taken an ear of corn from the\nground and was crushing it in his hand, and as soon as he blew on the\ngrains they all turned into pure gold. The peasant took up one and\nexamined it attentively on all sides, and then in a despairing tone\ncried out: \"Oh, my God! I must spend money to melt all these and send\nthem to the mint.\"\n\nThe devil wrung his hands in despair. He had lost his wager. He could\ndo everything, but he could not make a contented man.\n\n\n\n\nTHE EFFECTS OF RAKI\n\n\nBekri Mustafe, who lived during the reign of Sultan Selim, was a\ncelebrated toper, and perhaps at that time the only Moslem drunkard in\nTurkey. Consequently, he was often the subject of conversation in\ncircles both high and low. It happened that his Majesty the Sultan had\noccasion to speak to Bekri one day, and he asked him what pleasure he\nfound in drinking so much raki, and why he disobeyed the laws of the\nProphet. Bekri replied that raki was a boon to man; that it made the\ndeaf to hear, the blind to see, the lame to walk, and the poor rich,\nand that he, Bekri, when drunk, could hear, see, and walk like two\nBekris. The Sultan, to verify the truth of this statement, sent his\nservants into the highways to bring four men, the one blind, the\nother deaf, the third lame, and the fourth poor. Directly these were\nbrought, his Majesty ordered raki to be served to them in company with\nBekri. They had not been drinking long when, to the glory of Bekri,\nthe deaf man said: \"I hear the sound of great rumbling.\"\n\nAnd the blind man replied: \"I can see him; it is an enemy who seeks\nour destruction.\"\n\nThe lame man asked where he was, saying, \"Show him to me, and I will\nquickly despatch him.\"\n\nAnd the poor man called out: \"Don't be afraid to kill him; I've got\nhis blood money in my pocket.\"\n\nJust then a funeral happened to pass by the Palace buildings, and\nBekri got up and ordered the solemn procession to stop. Removing the\nlid of the coffin, he whispered a few words into the ear of the dead\nman, and then putting his ear to the dead man's mouth, vented an\nexclamation of surprise. He then ordered the funeral to proceed, and\nreturned to the Palace.\n\nThe Sultan asked him what he had said to the dead man, and what the\ndead man replied.\n\n\"I simply asked him where he was going and from what he had died, and\nhe replied he was going to Paradise, and that he had died from\ndrinking raki without a meze.\"\n\nWhereupon the Sultan understanding what he wanted, ordered that the\nmeze should be immediately served.\n\n\n\n\n                      ON THE FACE OF THE WATERS.\n\n                         By FLORA ANNIE STEEL,\n    _Author of \"Miss Stuart's Legacy,\" \"Flower of Forgiveness,\"\n         \"Red Rowans,\" \"Tales from the Punjab,\" etc., etc._\n\n                          12mo. Cloth. $1.50.\n\n    \"We have read Mrs. Steel's book with ever-increasing surprise\n    and admiration. It is the most wonderful picture. We know\n    that none who lived through the mutiny will lay it down\n    without a gasp of admiration, and believe that the same\n    emotion will be felt by thousands to whom the scenes depicted\n    are but lurid phantasmagoria.\"--_The Spectator._\n\n\n\n\n                         TALES OF THE PUNJAB\n\n                         TOLD BY THE PEOPLE.\n\n                         By MRS. F. A. STEEL.\n\n    With Illustrations by J. LOCKWOOD KIPLING, C.I.E., and Notes\n                           by R. C. TEMPLE.\n\n                       16mo. Cloth, Gilt. $2.00.\n\n    \"A book that will be welcomed no less eagerly by the children\n    than by students of folklore from a scientific standpoint is\n    Mrs. Steel's collection of Indian stories, entitled 'Tales of\n    the Punjab.' They were taken down by her from the very lips\n    of the natives in some of the most primitive districts in\n    India. Yet these tales, handed down solely by word of mouth\n    from one generation to another, could hardly be distinguished\n    from those in a Teutonic collection like that of the Brothers\n    Grimm; and even closer examination serves only to impress\n    upon us more strongly than ever before the unity of the great\n    Indo-European family of nations.\"--_Nashville Banner._\n\n\n\n\n               UNIFORM EDITION OF THE STORIES AND POEMS\n                          OF RUDYARD KIPLING.\n\n                Seven Volumes. 12mo. Cloth. $1.25 each.\n\n\n                      PLAIN TALES FROM THE HILLS.\n\n    \"Mr. Kipling knows and appreciates the English in India, and\n    is a born story-teller and a man of humor into the\n    bargain.... It would be hard to find better reading.\"--_The\n    Saturday Review, London._\n\n\n                        THE LIGHT THAT FAILED.\n\n    \"'The Light that Failed' is an organic whole--a book with a\n    backbone--and stands out boldly among the nerveless, flaccid,\n    invertebrate things that enjoy an expensive but ephemeral\n    existence in the circulating libraries.\"--_The Athenaeum._\n\n\n                           LIFE'S HANDICAP.\n\n                      Stories of Mine Own People.\n\n    \"No volume of his yet published gives a better illustration\n    of his genius, and of the weird charm which has given his\n    stories such deserved popularity.\"--_Boston Daily Traveler._\n\n\n                             THE NAULAHKA.\n\n                       A Story of East and West.\n\n               By RUDYARD KIPLING and WOLCOTT BALESTIER.\n\n    \"What is the most surprising, and at the same time most\n    admirable in this book, is the manner in which Mr. Kipling\n    seems to grasp the character of the native women; we know of\n    nothing in the English language of its kind to compare with\n    chapter xx. in its delicacy and genuine sympathy.\"\n\n\n               UNDER THE DEODARS, THE PHANTOM 'RICKSHAW,\n                        AND WEE WILLIE WINKIE.\n\n    With additional matter, now published for the first time.\n\n\n               SOLDIERS THREE, THE STORY OF THE GADSBYS,\n                         and BLACK AND WHITE.\n\n    Also together with additional matter.\n\n\n                   BALLADS AND BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS.\n\n    \"Mr. Kipling differs from other ballad-writers of the day in\n    that he has that rare possession, imagination, and he has the\n    temerity to speak out what is in him with no conventional\n    reservations or deference to the hypocrisies of public\n    opinion.\"--_Boston Beacon._\n\n\n\n                        THE MACMILLAN COMPANY,\n                      66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK.\n\n\n\n\n                         TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES\n\n\n1. Passages in italics are surrounded by _underscores_.\n\n2. Other than the corrections listed below, printer's inconsistencies\nin spelling, punctuation, hyphenation and ligature usage have been\nretained:\n    \"to-morrrow\" corrected to \"to-morrow\" (page 158)","title":"Told in the Coffee House: Turkish Tales","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":27778}