The departure of the caravan was delayed for two or three days by the vizier upon various pretexts ­although it was his duty to render it every assistance ­that Menouni might afford further amusement to the pacha.  Menouni was well content to remain, as the liberality of the pacha was not to be fallen in with every day, and the next evening he was again ushered into the sublime presence.

“Khosh amedeid! you are welcome,” said the pacha, as Menouni made his low obeisance, “Now let us have another story.  I don’t care how long it is, only let us have no more princesses to be married.  That Babe-bi-bobu was enough to tire the patience of a dervish.”

“Your sublime highness shall be obeyed,” replied Menouni.  “Would it please you to hear the story of Yussuf, the Water carrier?”

“Yes, that sounds better.  You may proceed.”

THE WATER-CARRIER.

May it please your highness, it so happened that the great Haroun Alraschid was one night seized with one of those fits of sleepless melancholy with which it had pleased Allah to temper his splendid destiny, and which fits are, indeed, the common lot of those who are raised by fortune above the ordinary fears and vicissitudes of life.

“I can’t say that I ever have them,” observed the pacha.  “How is that, Mustapha?”

“Your highness has as undoubted a right to them as the great caliph,” replied Mustapha, bowing; “but if I may venture to state my opinion,” continued he, drawing down to the ear of the pacha, “you have discovered the remedy for them in the strong water of the Giaour.”

“Very true,” replied the pacha; “Haroun Alraschid, if I recollect right, was very strict in his observances of the precepts of the Koran.  After all, he was but a pastek ­a water-melon.  You may proceed, Menouni.”

The caliph, oppressed, as I before observed to your highness, with this fit of melancholy, despatched Mesrour for his chief vizier, Giaffar Bermukki, who, not unaccustomed to this nocturnal summons, speedily presented himself before the commander of the faithful.  “Father of true believers! descendant of the Prophet!” said the minister, with a profound obeisance, “thy slave waits but to hear, and hears but to obey.”

“Giaffar,” replied the caliph, “I am overwhelmed with distressing inquietude, and would fain have thee devise some means for my relief.  Speak ­what sayest thou?”

“Hasten, O my prince, to thy favourite garden of the Tierbar, where, gazing on the bright moon, and listening to the voice of the bul-bul, you will await in pleasing contemplation the return of the sun.”

“Not so,” replied the caliph.

“By the beard of the Prophet! the caliph was right, and that Giaffar was a fool.  I never heard that staring at the moon was an amusement before,” observed the pacha.

“Not so,” urged the caliph.  “My gardens, my palaces, and my possessions, are no more to me a source of pleasure.”

“By the sword of the Prophet!  Now the caliph appears to be the fool,” interrupted the pacha.

“Shall we then repair to the Hall of the Ancients, and pass the night in reviving the memory of the wise, whose sayings are stored therein?” continued Giaffar.

“Counsel avails not,” replied the caliph; “the records of the past will not suffice to banish the cares of the present.”

“Then,” said the vizier, “will the light of the world seek refuge from his troubles in a disguise, and go forth with the humblest of his slaves to witness the condition of his people?”

“Thou hast said well,” replied the caliph; “I will go with thee into the bazaar, and witness unknown the amusements of my people after the labours of the day.”

Mesrour, the chief eunuch, was at hand, and hastened for the needful disguises.  After having clad themselves as merchants of Moussul, and tinged their faces of an olive hue, the caliph, accompanied by Giaffar and Mesrour, the latter armed with a scimitar, issued forth from the secret door of the seraglio.  Giaffar, who knew from experience the quarter likely to prove most fertile in adventure, led the caliph past the mosque of Zobeide, and crossing the Bridge of Boats over the Tigris, continued his way to that part of the city on the Mesopotamian side of the river which was inhabited by the wine-sellers and others, who administered to the irregularities, as well as to the wants of the good people of Bagdad.  For a short time they wandered up and down without meeting anybody; but passing through a narrow alley, their steps were arrested by the sound of a most potent pair of lungs, carolling forth a jovial song.  The caliph waited awhile, in expectation of its ceasing; but he might apparently have waited until dawn of day, for verse was poured forth after verse:  a small interval between them filled up by the musical gurgling of liquor from a bottle, and the gulps of the votary of Bacchus.  At length, his patience being exhausted, the caliph ordered Mesrour to knock loudly at the singer’s dwelling.  Hearing the noise, the fellow opened the jalouise, and came out into the verandah above.  Looking down, and perceiving the three interrupters of his mirth, he bawled out ­“What rascals are you that disturb an honest man at his devotions? ­Begone! ­fly! ­away with you, scum of the earth!”

“Truly, charitable sir,” replied Giaffar in a humble tone, “We are distressed merchants, strangers in this city, who have lost our way, and fear to be seized by the watch ­perhaps carried before the cadi.  We beseech thee, therefore, to admit us within thy doors, and Allah will reward thy humanity.”

“Admit you within my doors! ­not I, indeed.  What, you wish to get into my house to gormandise and swill at my expense.  Go ­go!”

The caliph laughed heartily at this reply, and then called out to the man, “Indeed we are merchants, and seek but for shelter till the hour of prayer.”

“Tell me, then,” replied the man, “and mind you tell me the truth.  Have you eaten and drunk your fill for the night?”

“Thanks and praise be to Allah, we have supped long since, and heartily,” returned the caliph.

“Since that is the case, you may come up, but recollect it is upon one condition, that you bind yourselves not to open your lips whatever you may see me do; no matter whether it please you or not.”

“What you desire is so reasonable,” called out the caliph, “that we should be ignorant as Yaboos, if we did not at once comply.”

The man gave one more scrutinising glance at the pretended merchants; and then, as if satisfied, descended and opened his door.  The caliph and his attendants followed him up to his room, where they found a table laid out for supper, on which was a large pitcher of wine, half a roasted kid, a bottle of rakee, preserves, confections, and various kinds of fruit; odoriferous flowers were also on the table, and the lighting up of the room was brilliant.  The host, immediately on their entering, tossed off a bumper of wine, as if to make up for the time he had lost, and pointing to a corner, bade the intruders to sit down there, and not to disturb him any more.  He commenced his solitary feast, and after another bumper of wine, as if tired of his own company, he gruffly demanded, “Where do you fellows come from, and whither are you going?”

“Sir,” replied Giaffar, who had been whispering with the caliph, “we are merchants of Moussul, who have been to an entertainment at the country seat of a khan of Bagdad.  We feasted well, and left our friend just as the day closed in.  Whereupon we lost our way, and found ourselves in this street; hearing the musical accents of your voice, we exclaimed, ’Are not those notes delightful? ­one who has so sweet a voice must be equally sweet in disposition.  Let us entreat the hospitality of our brother for the remainder of the night, and in the morning we will depart in peace.’”

“I do not believe a word that you have said, you ill-looking thief.  You are spies or thieves, who would profit by getting into people’s houses at unseasonable hours.  You, barrel-stomach, you with whiskers like a bear,” continued he to the vizier, “hang me if ever I saw such a rascally face as yours; and you, you black-faced nigger, keep the whites of your eyes off my supper-table, or by Allah I’ll send you all to Jehanum.  I see you are longing to put your fingers on the kid:  but if you do, I’ve a bone-softener, which, by the blessed Prophet, shall break every bone in your three skins.”  So saying the man, taking a large cudgel from the corner of the room, laid it by the dish of kid, into which he then plunged his fingers, and commenced eating heartily.

“Giaffar,” said the caliph, in an undertone, “contrive to find out who this ferocious animal may be, and how he contrives to live so merrily?”

“In the name of Allah, let us leave him alone,” replied Giaffar, in a fright, “for should he strike us on the head with that cudgel, we should be despatched without anyone being the wiser.”

“Pish! fear nothing,” replied the caliph.  “Ask him boldly his name and trade.”

“Oh, my Commander,” replied Giaffar, “to hear is but to obey, yet do I quake most grievously at the threats of this villainous fellow.  I entreat thee that I may defer the questions until wine shall have softened down his temper.”

“Thou cowardly vizier.  Must I then interrogate him myself?” replied the caliph.

“Allah forbid,” replied Giaffar; “I will myself encounter the wrath of this least of dogs, may his grave be defiled.”

During this parley, their host, who had become more good-humoured in his cups, cast his eyes upon them.

“What in the name of Shitan, are you chaps prating and chatting about?” inquired he.

Giaffar, perceiving him in a more favourable mood, seized the occasion to speak.  “Most amiable and charitable sir,” replied he, “we were talking of your great liberality and kindness in thus permitting us to intrude upon your revels.  We only request, in the name of friendship, the name and profession of so worthy a Mussulman, that we may remember him in our prayers.”

“Why, thou impudent old porpus; did you not promise to ask no questions?  In the name of friendship!  Truly it is of long standing.”

“Still I pray Allah that it may increase.  Have we not sat a considerable time in your blessed presence ­have you not given us refuge?  All we now ask is the name and profession of one so amiable and so kind-hearted?”

“Enough,” replied the host, pacified with the pretended humility of the vizier.  “Silence, and listen.  Do you see that skin which hangs over my head?” The caliph and his companions looked up and perceived the tanned skin of a young ox, which appeared to have been used for carrying water.  “It is that by which I gain my daily bread.  I am Yussuf, son of Aboo Ayoub, who dying some five years ago, left me nothing but a few dirhems and this strong carcass of mine, by which to gain a livelihood.  I was always fond of sports and pastimes ­overthrew everybody who wrestled with me; nay, the man who affronts me, receives a box on the ear which makes it ring for a week afterwards.”

“Allah preserve us from affronting him!” whispered the caliph.

“When old Aboo died, I perceived, if I did not speedily turn my strength to some account, I should starve; so it struck me that there were no people more merry than the water-carriers, who supply for a few paras to the houses of this city the soft water of the river.  I resolved to become one, but instead of going backwards and forwards with a goatskin on my shoulders, I went down to the curriers, and selected the soft skin of the young ox which hangs above me, fitted it to my shoulders, and filling it at the river, marched up to the bazaar.  No sooner did I appear than all the water-carriers called out, ’That villain, Yussuf, is about to take away our bread.  May Shitan seize him.  Let us go to the cadi and complain.’  The cadi listened to their story, for they accused me of witchcraft, saying that no five men could lift the skin when it was full.  He sent one of his beeldars to summon me before him.  I had just filled my skin at the river, when the officer came from this distributor of bastinadoes.  I followed him to the court, laden as I was.  The crowd opened to let me pass, and I appeared before the cadi, who was much astonished at my showing so little inconvenience from such an enormous burthen.  ‘Oh!  Yussuf,’ cried he, ’hear and answer; thou art accused of witchcraft.’  ‘Who accuses me, O cadi?’ replied I, throwing down my skin of water.  Whereupon two hang-dogs stepped forward, and cried with loud voices, ‘Behold us here, O wise and just one.’  The cadi put one aside, and questioned the other, who swore on the book that the devil had given me a pig’s skin and had promised that as long as I served the followers of the Prophet out of the unclean vessel, he would enable me to carry as much as ten men.  The second witness confirmed this evidence; and added, that he heard me talking with the devil, who offered to turn himself into a yaboo, and carry water for me, which I had civilly declined, for what reason he knew not, as he did not hear the rest of the conversation.

“At this evidence, the cadi and mollahs who sat with him, turned up their eyes with horror, and proceeded to discuss the degree of punishment which so enormous a crime deserved, quite forgetting to ask me if I had anything to offer in my defence.  At last they settled that, as a commencement, I should receive five hundred bastinadoes on the soles of my feet, and if I lived, about as many more on my belly.  The cadi was about to pronounce his irrevocable fetva, when I took the liberty of interrupting this rapid course of justice.  ‘O cadi,’ said I, ’and ye, mollahs, whose beards drop wisdom, let your slave offer, at the footstool of justice, the precious proofs of innocence.’  ’Produce them quickly, then, thou wedded to Shitan and Jehanum,’ replied the cadi.  Whereupon I loosened the string which attached the mouth, and allowed all the water to run out of the skin.  I then turned the skin inside out, and showing to them the horns of the young ox, which fortunately I had not cut off, I demanded of the cadi and of the mollahs if any of them had ever seen a pig with horns.  At this they every one fell a laughing, as if I had uttered a cream of a joke.  My innocence was declared, and my two accusers had the five hundred bastinadoes shared between them.  The water-carriers were too much alarmed at the result of this attempt, to attack me any more, and the true believers, from the notoriety of the charge, and my acquittal of having rendered them unclean, from the use of swinish skin, all sought my custom.  In short, I have only to fill my skin, to empty it again, and I daily realise so handsome an income, that I have thrown care to the dogs, and spend in jollity every night what I have worked hard for every day.  As soon as the muezzin calls to evening prayers, I lay aside my skin, betake myself to the mosque, perform my ablutions, and return thanks to Allah.  After which I repair to the bazaar, purchase meat with one dirhem, rakee with another, others go for fruit and flowers, cakes, sweetmeats, bread, oil for my lamps, and the remainder I spend in wine.  As soon as all is collected, I arrive at my own house, put everything in order, light up my lamps and enjoy myself after my own fashion.  So now you know all I choose to tell you, and whether you are merchants or spies in disguise, I care not.  Be satisfied and depart, for the dawn is here.”

The caliph, who had been much amused with Yussuf’s account of himself, replied, “In truth, you are a wonderful man, and it must be allowed that, in separating yourself from your fellows, you escape many troubles and inconveniences.”

“Ay,” replied Yussuf; “thus have I lived for five years.  Every night has my dwelling been lighted up as you see it, and my fortunate stars have never suffered me to go without meat and drink, such as you three now smell and long for, but shall not put your fingers to.”

“But, friend Yussuf,” observed Giaffar, “suppose that to-morrow, the caliph should issue a decree, putting an end to the trade of supplying with water, and declare that whoever was found with a skin-full should be hanged.  In such a case, what would you do?  You could not light up your lamps; you could not enjoy your kabobs and pillau, neither would you be able to purchase fruits, sweetmeats, or a drop of wine.”

“May Shitan seize your unlucky soul, you tun-bellied beast of ill-omen! for the bare supposition of such a thing; depart ­depart quickly, and never let me see you again.”

“My good friend, Yussuf, I did but jest; five years, as you observe, have passed away without a day’s intermission of your enjoyment, nor is it probable that the caliph will ever issue such a ridiculous and unheard-of decree.  I only observed, that supposing he did, what could you do, never leaving a single asper for the next day’s provision?”

At the repetition of the vizier’s speech, Yussuf became highly exasperated.  “You dare to repeat to me your unlucky words and ill-omens, ­and you ask me what I would do!  Now hear me:  by the beard of the Prophet, should the caliph issue such a decree, with this good cudgel I will search all Bagdad, until I find you all.  You, and you,” continued Yussuf, looking fiercely at the caliph and the vizier, “I will beat until you are as black as he is (pointing to Mesrour), and him I will cudgel until he is as white as the flesh of the kid I have been regaling on.  Depart at once, you shall no longer pollute my roof.”

The caliph was so much diverted with the anger of Yussuf, and yet in such dread of showing it, that he was obliged to thrust the end of his robe into his mouth, as they walked out under a shower of curses from the water-carrier.

“By the sword of the Prophet, but they were well out of this scrape!” observed the pacha.  “May the grave of the rascal’s mother be defiled! to offer to cudgel the vice-regent of the Prophet.”

“The caliph was in disguise, and Yussuf knew him not,” replied Mustapha.

“Those who threaten me in disguise, will find that no excuse, we swear by our beard,” replied the pacha.  “Proceed Menouni.”

It was daylight before the great Haroun re-entered the secret gate of the seraglio, and retired to his couch.  After a short slumber he arose, performed his ablutions, and proceeded to the divan, where he found the principal officers of his court, the viziers, omras, and grandees, assembled to receive him; his imagination, however, still dwelt upon the events of the preceding night, and after the ordinary business of the day had been transacted, and the petitioners who attended had been dismissed, he called for his grand vizier, who presented himself with the customary obeisances.

“Giaffar,” said the caliph, “issue a decree to the governor of the city that it be proclaimed throughout the streets of Bagdad, that no person whatever, shall, for the space of three days, carry water from the river to the bazaars for sale, and that whoever trespasses shall be hanged.”

The governor, Khalid ben Talid, immediately that he received the fetva, took the proper measures to have it promulgated.  Heralds were despatched throughout the various quarters of the city, who proclaimed the will of the caliph.  The people wondered, but submitted.

Yussuf, who had performed his morning devotions, had reached the banks of the Tigris, and just filled, and hoisted on his shoulders, his ox-skin of water, when the appearance of one of the heralds attracted his attention; he listened to the legal proclamation, and let down his ox-skin with a curse upon all merchants of Moussul.

“Confusion to the scoundrels, who last night prophesied such an unlucky event!  If I could but lay hands upon them!” exclaimed Yussuf.  “They did but hint it, and behold, it is done.”

Whilst Yussuf was thus lamenting over his empty water-skin, some of the other water-carriers came up, and began to console him after the fashion of Job’s comforters.

“Surely,” said one, “you need not be troubled at this edict, you gain more than any five of us every day, and you have no wife nor child to provide for.  But I, wretched man that I am, will have the misery of beholding my wife and children starving before the expiration of the three days.”

Another said, “Be comforted, Yussuf, three days will soon pass away, and then you will relish your kabobs and your rakee, your sweetmeats and your wine, with greater pleasure, having been so long deprived of them.”

“Besides,” added a third, “you must not forget, Yussuf, that the prophet has declared that a man is eternally damned, body and soul, who is constantly drunk as you are.”

These observations kindled Yussuf’s bile to that degree, that he was nearly venting his spleen upon his sarcastic consolers.  He turned away, however, in his rage, and throwing his empty skin over his shoulders, proceeded slowly towards the mosque of Zobeide, cursing as he went along, all Moussul merchants down to the fiftieth generation.  Passing the great baths, he was accosted by one of the attendants with whom he was intimate, who inquired, why he was so depressed in spirits.

“That cold-blooded caliph of ours, Haroun Alraschid, has put an end to my earnings for three days, by threatening to hang any water-carrier who shall carry his load to the bazaar.  You know, my friend, that I never have put by a single para, and I fear that in three days my carcase will become shrivelled with famine, and dried up for the want of a cup of rakee.”

“Which thou hast often divided with me before now,” replied the other; “so even now will I divide my work with you, Yussuf.  Follow me, if you do not object to the employment, which requires little more than strength, and, by Allah, you have that, and to spare.  Surely, upon a pinch like this, you can take up a hair-bag, and a lump of soap, and scrub and rub the bodies of the true believers.  Those hands of yours, so enormous and so fleshy, are well calculated to knead the muscles and twist the joints of the faithful.  Come, you shall work with us during these three days at the hummaum, and then you can return to your old business.”

“Thy words of comfort penetrate deep into my bosom,” replied Yussuf, “and I follow thee.”

The bath-rubber then took him in, bound an apron round his waist, and lent him a bag, three razors, pumice-stone for scrubbing the soles of the feet, a hair bag, and a sponge.  Having caparisoned and furnished him with implements, he led Yussuf into the apartment where was the reservoir of hot water, and desired him to wait for a customer.  Yussuf had not long sat down on the edge of the marble bath, when he was summoned to perform his duties on a hadji who, covered with dust and dirt, had evidently just returned from a tedious pilgrimage.

Yussuf set to work with spirit; seizing the applicant with one hand, he stripped him with the other, and first operated upon the shaven crown with his razor.  The hadji was delighted with the energy of his attendant.  Having scraped his head as clean as he could with an indifferent razor, Yussuf then soaped and lathered, scrubbed and sponged the skin of the pilgrim, until it was as smooth and glossy as the back of a raven.  He then wiped him dry, and taking his seat upon the backbone of his customer, he pinched and squeezed all his flesh, thumped his limbs, twisted every joint till they cracked like faggots in a blaze, till the poor hadji was almost reduced to a mummy by the vigour of the water-carrier, and had just breath enough in his body to call out, “Cease, cease, for the love of Allah ­I am dead, I am gone.”  Having said this, the poor man fell back nearly senseless.  Yussuf was very much alarmed; he lifted up the man, poured warm water over him, wiped him dry, and laid him on the ottoman to repose, covering him up.  The hadji fell into a sound slumber, and in half an hour awoke so refreshed and revived, that he declared himself quite a new man.

“It is only to hadjis,” observed Yussuf, “that I give this great proof of my skill.”

The man put his hand into his pocket, pulled out three dirhems, and presented them to Yussuf, who was astounded at such liberality, and again expressing his satisfaction, the hadji left the hummaum.  Delighted with his success, Yussuf continued his occupation, and attended with alacrity every fresh candidate for his joint-twisting skill.  By the time that evening prayers commenced, he had kneaded to mummies half a dozen more true believers, and had received his six dirhems, upon which he determined to leave off for that day.

Having left the bath, he dressed himself, went home, took his leathern pitcher, dish, and basket, and went to the bazaar, where he purchased a piece of mutton, and left it at the most noted kabob-makers in the district to be cooked; he then purchased his wine and rakee, wax tapers, and flowers, pistachio-nuts, dried fruit, bread, and oil for his lamps.  When he had completed his purchases he called at the cook’s shop, where he found his mutton nicely kabobed, and smoking in the dish.  Paying the cook, and putting it into his basket, he hastened home over the bridge of boats, exulting in his good fortune.  When he arrived, he swept out his room, dressed himself in better clothes, lighted his lamps, spread out his table, and then squatted himself down, with his legs twisted under him, and tossing off a bumper of wine, he exclaimed, “Well, I am lucky; nevertheless, here’s confusion to all Moussul merchants, with their vile omens.  Allah send their unlucky footsteps here to-night ­that’s all.”

Here Menouni stopped, and made his salaam.  “May it please your highness to permit your slave to retire for the night, for the tale of Yussuf, the water-carrier, cannot be imparted to your highness in one evening.”

The pacha, although much amused, was also a little tired.  “Be it so, good Menouni, but recollect, Mustapha, that the caravan must not depart until I hear the end of this story.”

“Be chesm, on my eyes be it,” replied Mustapha; and they all retired for the night.

“What is the cause?” demanded the pacha, hastily, as next day Mustapha listened with apparent patience to the long details of one of the petitioners for justice.

“It is, O lord of wisdom, a dispute between these men, as to a sum of money, which they received as guides to a Frank, who journeyed into the interior.  The one was hired for the journey, but not being well acquainted with the road, called in the assistance of the other; they now dispute about the division of the money, which lies at my feet in this bag.”

“It appears that the one who was hired did not know the way.”

“Even so,” replied Mustapha.

“Then he was no guide, and doth not deserve the money.  And the other, it appears, was called in to assist?”

“Thy words are the words of wisdom,” replied Mustapha.

“Then was he not a guide, but only an assistant; neither can he be entitled to the money, as guide.  By the beard of the Prophet, justice must not be fooled thus, and the divan, held in our presence, be made foolish by such complaints.  Let the money be distributed among the poor, and let them each have fifty bastinadoes on the soles of the feet.  I have said it.”

“Wallah Thaib ­it is well said,” replied Mustapha, as the two disputants were removed from the presence.

“Now call Menouni,” said the pacha, “for I am anxious to hear the story of Yussuf, and the future proceedings of the caliph; and a part of this bag of money will reward him for the honey which falls from his lips.”

Menouni made his appearance, and his obeisance; the pacha and Mustapha received their pipes from the Greek slave, and the Kessehgou then proceeded with his story.

The great caliph, Haroun Alraschid, had as usual held his afternoon audience; the court was dismissed.  Haroun, whose whole thoughts were upon the bankrupt condition of Yussuf, and who was anxious to know how he had got on after the fetva had been promulgated, sent for his vizier, Giaffar.  “I wish to ascertain,” said the caliph to the vizier, “if the unlucky Yussuf has managed to provide for his bacchanalian revels to-night?”

“There can be no doubt, O vice-regent of the Prophet,” replied Giaffar, “that the young man is seated in the dark, in a most dismal mood, without either wine or kabob, or aught to comfort him.”

“Send for Mesrour, then; we will again resume our disguises, and pay him a visit.”

“Let the humblest of your slaves,” interposed Giaffar, in a great fright, “represent at the footstool of your highness a true picture of what we may anticipate.  Doubtless this lion-slayer of Shitan, being famished, will not forget our prophecy, and ascribing its fulfilment to our bad omens, will, in his mood, sacrifice us to his empty stomach.

“Your wisdom is great, Giaffar,” replied the caliph; “the man is truly a savage, and doubtless will rage with hunger, nevertheless, we will go and see in what state he may be.”

Giaffar trembled at the idea of being subjected to the wrath of such a fellow as Yussuf, but made no reply.  He went for Mesrour and the dresses, and having put them on, they all three issued forth from the private gate of the seraglio.  They had nearly reached the end of the narrow lane in which Yussuf’s house was situated, when the strong reflection of the lights from the windows told them that, at all events, he was not lamenting his hard fate in darkness; and as they approached, the sound of his jovial voice proved also that it was neither in silence that he submitted to his destiny.  As they came under the window, he ceased singing, and ejaculated a loud curse upon all Moussul merchants, wishing that he might only see them once again before the devil had them.  The caliph laughed at this pious wish, and taking up a handful of pebbles, threw them at the jalousies of Yussuf’s windows.

“Who the devil is there?” roared the water-carrier; “is it you, ye bankrupt vagabonds, who have annoyed me?  Begone, or by the sword of the Prophet, I’ll impale you all three on my broomstick.”

“Dost thou not know us, Yussuf?” replied the caliph; “we are your friends, and once more request admission under thy hospitable roof.”

Yussuf came out into the verandah.  “Oh! it is you, then; now take my advice, ­go in peace.  I am now in good humour, and peaceably disposed; but had I fallen in with you to-day, I would have twisted off your necks.”

“Nay, good Yussuf,” replied Giaffar, “we have heard of the unaccountable and mad decree of the caliph, and have called to know how thou hast fared, and if we can be of service to one so hospitable and kind.”

“You lie, I believe,” replied Yussuf; “but I’m in good humour, so you shall come in, and see how well I fare.  I am Yussuf, and my trust is in God.”  He then went down and admitted them, and they viewed with surprise the relics of the feast.  “Now, then,” observed Yussuf, who was more than half drunk, “you know my conditions; there is my meat, there is my wine, there is my fruit; not a drop or a taste shall you have.  Keep your confounded sharp eyes off my sweetmeats, you black-bearded rascal,” continued Yussuf, addressing the caliph.  “You have your share of them.”

“Indeed, most hospitable sir, we covet not your delicacies:  all we wish to know is the reason of this unheard of decree, and how you have contrived to supply your usual merry table.”

“You shall hear,” replied the water-carrier.  “My name is Yussuf, and my trust is in God.  When the decree of the caliph came to my ears this morning, I became as one deprived of sense; but wandering near the hummaum of Giaffar Bermuki, a friendly servant of the baths accosted me.”  Yussuf then stated how he had gained his money, much to their amusement.  “Now,” continued he, “I will no longer be a water-carrier, but an attendant at the bath will I live and die.  May all evil fall upon the cold-blooded caliph; but thanks to Allah, it never will enter his head to shut up the baths.”

“But,” observed Giaffar, “suppose the caliph were to-morrow morning to take it into his head to shut up the baths.”

“Now, may all the ghouls seize thee when thou visitest thy father’s tomb,” cried Yussuf, jumping up in a fury, “thou bear-whiskered rascal!  Did not I caution thee against evil predictions ­and did you not swear that you would deal no more in surmises?  The devil must attend you, and waft your supposes into the ear of the caliph, upon which to frame out his stupid fetvas.”

“I heartily ask your forgiveness, and I am dumb,” replied Giaffar.

“Then you are wise for once; prove yourself still wise, and hasten away before I reach my cudgel.”

Perceiving that Yussuf’s eyes twinkled with anger, they thought it right to follow his advice.  “We shall see you again, good Yussuf,” said the caliph, as they descended.

“To the devil with you all three, and never let me see your ugly faces again,” replied the water-carrier, slamming the door after they were out.  The caliph went away much amused, and with his attendants, entered the private gate of the seraglio.

The next morning the caliph held a solemn divan, at which all the mollahs, as well as all the chief officers, were present, and he issued a decree, that every bath throughout Bagdad should be shut for three days, on pain of impalement.  The inhabitants of Bagdad were swallowed up with wonder and perplexity.  “How,” exclaimed they, “what can this mean?  Yesterday we were ordered not to use the waters of the Tigris, to-day the baths are denied us.  Perhaps, to-morrow the mosques may be ordered to be shut up,” and they shook their heads, as if to hint to each other that the caliph was not in his senses; but they exclaimed, “In Allah only safety is to be found.”  Nevertheless, the decree was enforced by the proper officers, who went round to the different baths.  First they closed the Hummaum Alraschid, next that of Ziet Zobiede, then the bath of Giaffar Bermuki, at which Yussuf had found employment the day before.  When it was closed, the master and attendants looked at the door, and they reproached the assistants, who had befriended Yussuf, saying, he was a water-carrier, and the business was stopped by a decree.  You have brought him to the baths, and now they are shut.  In the meantime, Yussuf was perceived striding towards the bath, muttering to himself, “I am Yussuf; my trust is in God.  As an assistant at the hummaum will I live and die.”  Ignorant of the decree, he approached the door of the building, round which the servants were clustered, and accosted them.  “How now, my friends, do you wait for the key? if anything ails the lock, trust to the strength of Yussuf.”

“Have you not heard that the caliph has ordered the baths to be shut for three days, on pain of impalement?”

Yussuf started back with astonishment.  “Now, may the graves of their fathers be eternally defiled ­those confounded Moussul Merchants!  Their supposes always come to pass.  I will seek them out and be revenged.”  So saying, Yussuf, who had come prepared with his brushes, razors, and soap, turned off in a rage, and hastened through the streets for an hour or two, looking at every passenger, to ascertain if he could find those upon whom he would have wreaked his vengeance.

After a long walk, Yussuf sat down on a large stone.  “Well,” said he, “I am still Yussuf, and my trust is in God; but it would be better, instead of looking after these rascals, if I were to look out for some means of providing myself with a supper to-night.”  So saying, he rose, went home, put on some clothes of better materials, and twisting up his red cotton sash for a turban, he took up his praying-carpet, with a determination to go to the bazaar and sell it for what it would fetch.  As he passed the mosque of Hosein, he observed several mollahs, reading and expounding the more abstruse passages of the Koran.  Yussuf knelt and prayed awhile, and returning to the door of the mosque he was accosted by a woman, who appeared to be waiting for some one.  “Pious sir,” said she, “I perceive by your goodly habit and appearance that you are one of the cadi’s law officers.”

“I am as you please ­I am Yussuf, and my trust is in God.”

“Oh! my hadji, then become my protector.  I have an unjust debtor who refuses me my due.”

“You cannot intrust a better person,” replied Yussuf.  “I am a strong arm of the law, and my interest at court is such that I have already procured two decrees.”

“Those are great words, O hadji.”

“Tell me, then, who is this debtor, that I may seize him and carry him before the cadi.  Haste to tell me, and for a few dirhems I will gain your cause, right or wrong.”

“My complaint is against my husband, who has divorced me, and notwithstanding, refuses me my dowry of five dinars, my clothes, and my ornaments.”

“What is your husband’s trade?”

“Pious sir, he is an embroiderer of papouches.”

“Let us lose no time, my good woman; show me this miracle of injustice, and by Allah, I will confound him.”

Upon this the woman unbound the string of coins from her head, and cutting off three dirhems, presented them to Yussuf.  Yussuf seized the money, and tucking up his sleeves, that he might appear more like an officer he bade her to lead to the delinquent.  The woman led him to the great mosque, where her husband, a little shrivelled-up man, was performing his duties with great devotion.  Yussuf, without saying a word, took him up, carpet and all, and was about to carry him off.

“In the name of the Prophet, to what class of madmen do you belong?” screamed the astonished devotee.

“Release me; do not crush my poor ribs within your grasp.  Set me down, and I will walk with you, as soon as I have put on slippers.”

The people crowded round to know what was the matter.  “Ho, ho, that will presently appear,” replied Yussuf.  “His wife is his creditor, and I am her law officer; my demand is, that you restore to her fifty dinars, besides all the gold jewels and ornaments she has had these last fifty years.”

“How can that be,” replied the little man, “seeing that I am not forty years old?”

“That may be the case in fact,” replied Yussuf; “but law is a very difficult thing, as you will find out.  So come along with me to the cadi.”

The party then proceeded on their way to the cadi, but they had not gone many yards, when the papouche-maker whispered to Yussuf, “Most valiant and powerful sir, I quarrelled with my wife last night, on account of her unreasonable jealousy.  I did pronounce the divorce, but there was no one to hear.  If we slept together once more, she would be pacified.  Therefore, most humane sir, I entreat you to interfere.”

“Was there no witness?” inquired Yussuf.

“None, good sir,” replied the man, slipping five direhms into the hand of Yussuf.

“Then I decide that there is no divorce,” replied Yussuf, pocketing the money, “and therefore you are no debtor.  Woman, come hither.  It appears that there was no divorce ­so says your husband ­and you have no witness to prove it.  You are therefore no creditor.  Go to your husband, and walk home with him; he is not much of a husband, to be sure, but still he must be cheap at the three dirhems which you have paid me.  God be with you.  Such is my decree.”

The woman, who had already repented of her divorce, was glad to return, and with many compliments, they took their leave of him.  “By Allah!” exclaimed Yussuf, “but this is good.  I will live and die an officer of the law.”  So saying he returned home for his basket, purchased his provisions and wine, and lighting up his house, passed the evening in carousing and singing as before.

While Yussuf was thus employed, the caliph was desirous of ascertaining the effect of the new decree, relative to the baths.  “Giaffar,” said he, “I wonder whether I have succeeded in making that wine-bibber go to bed supperless?  Come, let us pay him a visit.”

“For the sake of Islam, O caliph,” replied Giaffar, “let us forbear to trifle with that crackbrained drunkard any more.  Already has Allah delivered us out of his hands.  What may we not expect if he is hungry and desolate?”

“Your wisdom never grows less,” replied the caliph; “those are the words of truth:  nevertheless, I must go and see the madman once more.”

Giaffar, not being able to prevail, prepared the dresses, and they, accompanied by Mesrour, again sallied forth by the private gate of the seraglio.  Once more were they surprised at witnessing the same illumination of the house, and one of the jalousies having burst open with the wind, they perceived the shadow of Yussuf, reflected on the wall, his beard wagging over his kabobs, and a cup of wine in his hand.

“Who is there?” cried Yussuf, when Giaffar, at the command of the caliph, knocked at the door.

“Your friends, dear Yussuf ­your friends, the Moussul merchants.  Peace be with you.”

“But it’s neither peace nor welcome to you, you owls,” replied Yussuf, walking out into the verandah.  “By Allah! if you do not walk away, and that quickly, I shall come down to you with my bone polisher.”

“Indeed, friend Yussuf,” replied Giaffar, “we have but two words to say to you.”

“Say them quickly, then, for you enter not my doors again, you wretched fellows, who have ruined all the water-carriers and all the bath-people in Bagdad.”

“What is that you mean?” replied the caliph; “we are lost in mystery.”

“What!” replied Yussuf:  “have you not heard the decree of this morning?”

“Gentle sir, we have been so busy sorting our wares, that we have not stepped out this day, and are ignorant of all that hath passed in Bagdad.”

“Then you shall come up and learn; but first swear by Moses, Esau, and the Prophet, that you will not suppose, for all you have imagined has proved as true as if it had been engraven on the ruby seal of Solomon.”

These conditions were readily accepted by the caliph and his companions, and they were then admitted upstairs, where they found everything disposed in the usual order, and the same profusion.  When they had taken their seats in the corner of the room, Yussuf said, “Now my guests, as you hope for pardon, tell me, do you know nothing of what has happened to me this day ­and what the blockhead of a caliph has been about?” Haroun and the vizier could with difficulty restrain their laughter, as they shook their heads.  “Yes,” continued Yussuf, “that vicegerent of a tattered beard, and more tattered understanding, has issued a decree for closing the baths for three days, by which cruel ordinance, I was again cast adrift upon the sea of necessity.  However, Providence stood my friend, and threw a few dirhems in my way, and I have made my customary provision in spite of the wretch of a caliph, who I fully believe is an atheist and no true believer.”

“Inshallah,” said the caliph to himself, “but I’ll be even with you some day, at least.”

Yussuf then filled his cup several times, and was in high glee, as he narrated the events of the day, concluding with, “I am Yussuf ­I put my trust in God.  As an officer of the law I intend to live and die, and to-morrow I shall attend the hall of the cadi.”

“But,” said Giaffar, “suppose ­”

“Suppose! by the beard of the Prophet, if you dare to suppose again in my presence, I will pound your fat stomach into a jelly,” cried Yussuf, seizing his cudgel.

“No, no, my friend, I merely wished to say ­”

“Say nothing,” roared Yussuf, “or you never speak again.”

“Then we will only think, my friend.”

“That I will allow, and I also think as well as you.  My thoughts are, that it will be wise for you to quit as fast as you can, for I have the cudgel in my hand, and am not in the very best of humours.”  The caliph and his attendants were of the same opinion, and took their leave of their irritated host.

At the next morning’s levee, Giaffar entered the divan at the head of the chief officers of the law, and viziers of the different departments, prostrating himself before the throne, he called down increase of years and prosperity on the caliph.  “Giaffar,” replied Haroun, “issue immediate orders, under the imperial firmaum, that strict inquiries be made into those officers of justice who attend the halls of the cadis.  All those who have been lawfully selected shall be retained, with a present and increase of salary, while those who have assumed their name and office, without warranty or permission, shall be dismissed with the bastinado.”

The orders of the caliph were immediately obeyed.  In the meantime, Yussuf, who had fallen asleep over his wine, did not awaken till long after the sun was up.  He immediately rose, dressed himself with care, and hastened to the hall of the cadi, and took his station among the officers of the law, who looked at him with surprise and displeasure.  At this moment the caliph’s firmaum was delivered to the cadi, who, lifting it up to his forehead, in token of respect and obedience, caused it to be read to him.  He then cried with a loud voice, “Bring in purses of gold, and let also the fellah and rods for the bastinado be brought in.  Close up the gates of the cutchery, that none escape; and ye officers of justice, be ready to answer as your names are called.”  Yussuf, whose eyes were wide open, as well as his ears, said to himself, “My God! what new event is now to come to pass?”

The orders of the cadi having been obeyed, the officers were severally called forward, and having proved themselves regularly appointed, received their rewards, and were dismissed.  Yussuf’s ideas were so confused by what appeared to him such an unmitigated destiny, that he did not perceive that he was left standing alone.  It was not until the second time that the cadi called to him, that Yussuf moved towards him.

“Who are you?” inquired the cadi.

“I am Yussuf, and my trust is in God,” replied he.

“What is your profession?”

“I am a water-carrier.”

“Such being the case, why did you join the officers of the law?”

“I only entered upon the calling yesterday, O cadi; but nothing is difficult to me.  Provided I gain but my six dirhems a day, I have no objection to become a mollah.”

The cadi and bystanders were unable to restrain their mirth, nevertheless, his feet were secured to the pole; and when hoisted up, they commenced the bastinado, taking care, however, to strike the pole much oftener than his toes.  Having finished, he was released, and turned out of the hall of justice, very much mortified and melancholy, but little hurt by the gentle infliction.  “Well,” thought Yussuf, “fate appears determined that I shall change my mode of gaining my livelihood every day.  Had I not allowed those Moussul rascals to enter my house, this never would have happened.”

As he said this, he perceived one of the beeldars, or officers of the caliph’s household, pass by him.  “That would be a nice office,” thought Yussuf, “and the caliph does not count his people like the cadi.  It requires but an impudent swagger, and you are taken upon your own representation.”  Accordingly, nowise disheartened, and determined to earn his six dirhems, he returned home, squeezed his waist into as narrow a compass as he could, gave his turban a smart cock, washed his hands, and took a peeled almond-wand in his hand.  He was proceeding down stairs, when he recollected that it was necessary to have a sword, and he had only a scabbard, which he fixed in his belt, and cutting a piece of palm-wood into the shape of a sword, he fixed it in, making the handle look smart with some coloured pieces of cotton and silk, which he sewed with packthread.  Thus marched he out, swaggering down the streets, and swinging his twig of almond-tree in his hand.  As he strutted along everyone made way for him, imagining him to be one of those insolent retainers of office who are supported by the great khans.  Thus he continued a straight course, until he arrived at the market-place, where a multitude was assembled round two men, who were fighting desperately.  Yussuf pressed forward, the crowd making way for him on both sides, either taking him for an officer of the household, or dreading the force of his nervous and muscular proportions.  When he reached the combatants, they were covered with dirt and blood, and engaged so furiously, that no one dared separate them.  Yussuf, perceiving the dread which he inspired, and that he was taken, as he wished to be, for a beeldar, first clapped his hand to the handle of his pretended sword, and then struck the combatants several sharp blows with his almond stick, and thus induced them to leave off fighting.  The sheick, or head of the bazaar, then approached Yussuf, and making an obeisance, presented him with six dirhems, with a prayer that he would seize the culprits, and carry them before the caliph for punishment, as disturbers of the public peace.

Yussuf, securing the money in his girdle, seized up the two combatants, and carrying one under each arm, walked off with them.  A great crowd followed, with many prayers for the release of the prisoners; but Yussuf turned a deaf ear, until another six dirhems were dropped into his vest, with a prayer for mercy.  Upon this Yussuf consented to release them, and walked away, hardly able to contain his exultation.  “I am Yussuf,” cried he, “and I trust in God.  As a beeldar will I live and die.  By Allah!  I will go to the palace, and see how it fares with my brother beeldars.”

Now there were thirty beeldars in the service of the caliph, who attended the palace in rotation, ten each day.  On reaching the court of the palace, Yussuf took his station where the ten beeldars on duty were collected together.  He observed, however, that they were very different from himself, very slight young men, and dressed in a very superior style.  He felt some contempt for their effeminate appearance, contrasted with his own muscular frame, but could not keep his eyes off their handsome and stylish dress.  Meanwhile, the chief of the beeldars perceived him, and knowing that he did not belong to the palace, imagined from his appearance, and his presenting himself among them, that he must be one in the service of one of the great omrahs who were at Bagdad, who, having nothing to do at home, had come as a visitor to the palace.  He remarked this to his brother beeldars, saying, “This fine-built stranger ought to be considered as our guest.  Let us show him all courtesy, for he is of our profession, and therefore we shall not do ourselves credit, if we do not prove that we have the power to serve him.”  The other beeldars agreeing with him, the chief went to the secretary of the treasury, and procured an order of notice upon a rich confectioner, to pay into the treasury the sum of five thousand dirhems, due by him upon several accounts therein specified.  The vizier’s seal having been attached to it, he went with it to where Yussuf was standing.  “What, ho! brother beeldar,” said the chief.

“I am Yussuf, and my trust is in God; I am ready to obey your commands,” said the water-carrier, advancing with great humility.

“May I request, brother beeldar, that you will do us of the palace, the very great favour to carry this paper, bearing the vizier’s seal, to Mallem Osman, the great confectioner, and request the immediate payment of five thousand dirhems.  You know your profession; of course the money is not expected, but whatever he may offer for your affording him a respite, put down to the friendship and good will of the beeldars of the palace, and remember us when you feast in your own dwelling.”

Yussuf, highly delighted, put the order into his cap, made a low salaam, and departed on his message.  Deeming it beneath his new-fledged dignity to walk, he mounted one of the asses ready for hire at the corner of the streets, ordering the driver to hasten before to clear the way, and ascertain which was the dwelling of the confectioner.  The house of Mallem Osman was soon discovered, for he was the most celebrated of his trade, and had an immense business.  Yussuf rode up on the beast, which was not half as large as himself, and stopped at the shop, where the confectioner was superintending his work-people.  “I am Yussuf, and my trust is in God,” said Yussuf, looking at the confectioner.  The confectioner heeded him not, when Yussuf strutted into the shop.  “I merely wait upon you, good Mallem Osman, to request that you will immediately repair to the palace, carrying with you five bags, each containing one thousand dirhems, of which there appears at present to be no chance of receiving an asper.  This paper, sealed by the vizier, contains the order; and as you have the honour of being the caliph’s debtor, you will do well to rise and accompany me forthwith to the palace, not forgetting the needful.”

At this speech Mallem started up from his seat, advanced most submissively to Yussuf, took the paper and raised it to his head, addressing Yussuf with the most abject servility, “O most excellent, most valiant, and most powerful beeldar, how well doth the caliph select his officers!  How favoured am I by Allah with your happy presence!  I am your slave ­honour me by refreshing yourself in my dwelling.”

Yussuf then threw the driver of the beast half a dirhem, and dismissed him, breathed as if fatigued with his journey, and wiped his brow with his sleeve.  The confectioner placed him in his own seat, and sent hastily to the bazaar for a large dishful of kabob, spread a napkin before Yussuf, and slicing a pomegranate, strewed it over with pounded sugar, and placed it before him, along with some sweet cakes and some honey.  “O chief of beeldars!” said the confectioner, “it is my prayer that you deign to break your fast in the house of your servant.  Will you amuse yourself with these trifles while something better is preparing?” Here one of the shopmen brought a bowl, into which he poured sherbet of the distilled juice of the lotus-flower mingled with rose-water.  The master placed this also before Yussuf, and entreated him to eat; but Yussuf, affecting the great man, held his head up in the air and would not even look that way.  “Condescend to oblige me by tasting this sherbet, O chief!” continued the confectioner:  “or I swear by Allah, that I will divorce my youngest and most favourite wife.”

“Hold ­hold, brother!” replied Yussuf; “rather than that the innocent should suffer, I will comply with your request; although, to say the truth, I have no appetite, having taken my breakfast from the caliph’s table in ten dishes, each dish containing three fowls dressed in a different fashion.  I am so full that I can scarce draw my breath.”

“I fully comprehend that it is out of compassion to your slave that you comply with my request.”

“Well,” said Yussuf, “to oblige you;” and taking up the bowl of sherbet, which contained some pints, to the amazement of the confectioner, at one long draught he swallowed it all down.  The kabob now made its appearance, wrapped up in thin cakes of fine wheaten flour.  Yussuf swallowed this also with a rapidity which was astonishing to behold, nor did he cease eating till the whole table cleared.  The confectioner was amazed.  “This fellow,” thought he, “breakfasted upon ten dishes, each containing three fowls.  How fortunate for me!  What would he have done had he come here fainting?  Nothing less than an ox stuffed with pistachio-nuts would have satisfied him.  Would to Heaven that I were well rid of him!”

In the meantime Yussuf stirred not, but resumed his consequence.  The confectioner requested to know if his highness would wait till a dinner was prepared for him.  “Indeed, friend, that is a subject of small concern.  My object here is, that you hasten with me to the treasury to pay in the five thousand dirhems which are due.”

“Your indulgence, my aga,” replied the confectioner; “I will return in one minute.”  Mallem Osman then filled a large bag with the choicest of his sweetmeats, and putting thirty dirhems in a paper, he approached Yussuf, saying, “My prince, I humbly beg your acceptance of this trifling present of sweetmeats, and these thirty dirhems for the expenses of the bath after your fatiguing journey hither.  Deign also to favour me with your protection.  Trade is scarce, and money does not come in.  In a short time I will pay all.”

Yussuf, who was aware that the order had only been given that he might squeeze a few dirhems out of the confectioner, then spoke with much civility.  “My advice to you, Mallem,” said he, “is, that you stir not out of your door to-day ­there is no such hurry ­nor to-morrow, nay, even a week, or a month, or a year.  I may say, stir not at all, for you have my protection; and therefore be under no trouble of going to the palace at all.”

It was near sunset when this affair was settled.  Yussuf walked home with his hands full of presents, exclaiming as he went, “I am Yussuf, my provision is from God!” He reached his home, full of pleasing anticipations, and changing his dress, took out his basket and pitcher, returning loaded more than usual; for having gained forty-two dirhems, he resolved to indulge himself.  “By Allah!” cried he, “I will double my allowance, to the confusion of those rascally Moussul merchants, who are such birds of ill omen.”  He accordingly expended double the money, doubling also his allowance of wax tapers and oil, so that his house was in a blaze of light when he sat down as usual to his feast, more happy than ever, drinking more, and singing twice as loudly as he had ever done before.

Leaving him to his solitary revels, we must observe, that the caliph had ascertained that Yussuf had received the bastinado; and now making sure that he would be without provisions or wine, he resolved to pay him another visit.  “I think, Giaffar, that I have, at last, sent that rascal to bed supperless in return for his calling me an infidel; and I must go and enjoy his wrath and indignation, increased of course by the pain of the blows he has received by the order of the cadi.”  In vain did Giaffar represent that it would be attacking an angry and wounded lion in his den; that his wrath would be such, and his strength was so enormous, that they could not expect less than annihilation, should they venture to his door.  “All that may be true,” replied the caliph; “but still I will go and see him at all risk.”

“I have my dagger, Commander of the Faithful,” observed Mesrour, “and I fear him not.”

“Use it not, Mesrour,” replied the caliph.  “Get ready the dresses, and let us depart.”

“I venture to promise that we shall see no more lights this time, except it may be a solitary lamp to enable him to bathe his wounded feet.”

They went forth, and on their arrival were astonished at the blaze of light which proceeded from Yussuf’s apartments; his singing also was most clamorous, and he appeared to be much intoxicated, crying out between his staves, “I am Yussuf! confound all Moussul merchants ­my trust is in God!”

“By the sword of the prophet!” exclaimed the caliph, “this fellow baffles me in everything.  Have I not made the whole city uncomfortable, and submit to decrees which appeared to be promulgated by a madman, merely to chastise this wine-bibber, and behold he revels as before?  I am weary of attempting to baffle him; however, let us find out, if possible, how he has provided for his table.  What, ho! friend Yussuf, are you there?  Here are your guests come again to rejoice in your good fortune,” cried the caliph from the street.

“What, again?” roared Yussuf.  “Well, now, you must take the consequence.  Fly, or you are dead men.  I have sworn by Allah, not only that you should not come into my door, but that I would cudgel you whenever we met again.”

“Nay, thou pearl among men, thou ocean of good temper, rise and receive us.  It is our destiny, and who can prevent it?”

“Well, then,” replied Yussuf, coming out to the verandah with his great cudgel, “if it is your destiny, it will not be my fault.”

“But, good Yussuf,” replied the caliph, “hear us.  This is the last time that we request admittance.  We swear it by the three.  You rail at us as if we harmed you; whereas, you must acknowledge that everything, however unfortunate at first appearance, has turned only to thy advantage.”

“That is true,” replied Yussuf; “but still it is through your pernicious omens that I am made to change my trade every day.  What am I to be next?”

“Is not your trust in God?” replied Giaffar.  “Besides, we promise thee faithfully that we will not say one word on the subject, and that this shall be the last time that we demand your hospitality.”

“Well,” replied Yussuf, who was very drunk, “I will open the door for the last time, as I must not war with destiny.”  So saying, he reeled down the stairs, and let them in.

The caliph found everything in extraordinary profusion.  Yussuf sang for some time without noticing them; at last he said, “You Moussul rascals, why do you not ask me to narrate how I have had such good fortune?  You are dying with envy, I presume; but now you shall hear it, and if you dare to go away till I have told you all, I will shower down such a quantity of blows upon your carcasses, as shall leave you worse than a bastinado of five hundred.”

“We are all obedience and humility, O prince of men!” replied the caliph.

Yussuf then narrated the events of the day, concluding with, “I am Yussuf, my trust is in God!  A beeldar will I live, a beeldar will I die, in spite of the caliph and his grand vizier to boot.  Here’s confusion to them both!” He then drank off a cup of rakee, and rolling over in a state of stupid intoxication, fell fast asleep.

The caliph and Giaffar blew out the lights, and then let themselves out of the door, and, much amused with the adventures of Yussuf, they regained the private gate of the seraglio.

The next morning Yussuf awoke, and finding it late, hastened to dress himself in his best clothes, saying to himself, “I am a beeldar, and I will die a beeldar.”  He took care to comb out his beard, and twist it in a fiercer manner; and then putting on his sham sword, lost no time in going to the palace, where he took his station among the beeldars who were on duty, hoping that he would be despatched by the chief on a similar message as that of the day before.  The caliph soon afterwards made his appearance at the divan, and immediately recognised Yussuf in his partial disguise.  He observed to Giaffar, “Do you see there our friend Yussuf?  I have him at last, and now I will perplex him not a little before he escapes me.”  The chief of the beeldars being called, stepped forward and made his obeisance.  “What is the number of your corps?” inquired the caliph.

“Thirty in all, Most High, of which ten are every day on duty.”

“I will review those who are present,” replied the caliph, “and examine each man particularly.”

The chief of the beeldars bowing low, retired, and turning to his men, with a loud voice, said, “Beeldars, it is the pleasure of the Commander of the Faithful, that you appear before him.”

This order was instantly obeyed, and Yussuf was compelled to walk with the rest into the immediate presence of the caliph; not, however, without alarm, and saying to himself, “What can all this be for?  My usual luck.  Yesterday, I cast up my reckoning with the cadi, and paid the balance with my heels.  If I have to account with the caliph, I am lucky if I come off clear with my head.”

In the meantime the caliph asked a few questions of each beeldar, until he came to Yussuf, who had taken care to stand last.  His manoeuvres and embarrassment afforded much pleasure to the caliph and Giaffar, so much, that they scarce could refrain from laughing outright.  The last of the beeldars had now been examined, and had passed over to the right after the others, and Yussuf remained standing by himself.  He shuffled from side to side, casting an eye now at the door, and then at the caliph, considering whether he should take to his heels; but he felt that it was useless.  The caliph asked him who he was three times before Yussuf’s confusion would allow him to answer; and the chief of the beeldars gave him a push in the ribs, and looking in his face, did not recognize him; he however supposed that he had been lately substituted by one of the other chiefs.  “Answer the caliph, you great brute,” said he to Yussuf, giving him another dig in the ribs with the handle of his poniard; but Yussuf’s tongue was glued to his mouth with fear, and he stood trembling without giving any answer.  The caliph again repeated, “What is your name, your father’s name, and the amount of your salary as a beeldar? and how did you get your appointment?”

“Is it to me you speak, O hadji caliph?” at last stammered out Yussuf.

“Yes,” replied the caliph, gravely.

Giaffar, who stood near his master, then cried out, “Yes, you cowardly shred of a beeldar; and reply quickly, or a sword will be applied to your neck.”

Yussuf, as if talking to himself, replied, “I hope it will be my own then.”  He then replied to the question, “Yes, yes, it’s all right ­my father was a beeldar, and my mother also before him.”  At this extravagant answer the caliph and whole court could no longer restrain their mirth, which gave Yussuf a little more courage.

“So,” replied Haroun, “it appears that you are a beeldar, and that your allowance is ten dinars yearly, and five pounds of mutton daily.”

“Yes, my Umeer,” replied Yussuf, “I believe that is correct.  My trust is in God!”

“It is well.  Now, Yussuf, take with you three other beeldars to the dungeon of blood, and bring to me the four robbers who were condemned to death for their manifold crimes and enormities.”

Here Giaffar interfered, and submitted to the caliph, whether it would not be better that the head jailor should produce them, which being ordered, that officer presently made his appearance with the four criminals pinioned and bareheaded.  The caliph ordered three of the beeldars each to seize and blindfold a prisoner, to open their upper garments ready to unsheath their swords, and wait for the word of command.  The three beeldars made their obeisance, obeyed the command, placing the criminals in a kneeling position, resting on their hams, with their necks bare, and their eyes covered.  While the three beeldars stood thus in readiness, Yussuf was in a dreadful state of confusion.  “To escape now is impossible,” said he to himself.  “Confound these Moussul merchants.  They did well to say they would come no more, for in a few minutes I shall be no more myself.”

“You fellow there! you are one of the appointed beeldars, and do not know your duty,” cried Giaffar.  “Why do you not lead out the criminal, as your companions have done?”

Yussuf, obliged to obey, now seized the fourth prisoner, covered his eyes, laid bare his neck, and took his stand behind him, but without drawing his sword.  “I never shall be able to get over this,” thought Yussuf.  “In a few seconds it will prove to be but a piece of palm-wood, and I shall lose my head among the jeers of the people.  However, my trust is in God; and to Shitan with all Moussul merchants.”  He took, however, his sheath and sham sword from his belt, and raised it in the scabbard over his shoulder.

The caliph, who watched him narrowly, was highly diverted with this manoeuvre.  “You beeldar!” cried he, “why do you not unsheath your sword?”

“My sword,” replied Yussuf, “is of that temper, that it must not too long glance in the eyes of the Commander of the Faithful.”

The caliph appeared satisfied, and turning to the first beeldar, commanded him to strike.  In a moment the head of the robber was lying on the ground.  “Neatly and bravely done,” said the caliph; “let him be rewarded.”  He then gave command to the second to execute his criminal.  The sword whirled in the air, and at one stroke the head of the robber flew some distance from the shoulders.  The third criminal was despatched with equal dexterity.  “Now,” said the caliph to Yussuf, “you, my beeldar, cut off the criminal’s head, and receive the like reward for your dexterity.”

Yussuf had by this time, to a certain degree, recovered his presence of mind; he had not exactly arranged his ideas, but they floated indistinctly in his brain.  “Will your highness allow me to say a few words to the criminal?” demanded Yussuf, to gain time.

“Be it so,” replied the caliph, stuffing his robe in his mouth to prevent laughter.

“The caliph has commanded that your head be struck off.  If you would pronounce the profession of the true faith, now is your time, robber, for you have but one short minute to live.”

The criminal immediately cried out, “There is but one God, and Mahomet is his Prophet!”

Yussuf then bared his muscular arm, and fiercely rolling his eyes, walked three times round his prisoner.  “Declare now the justice of your fate,” cried he, aloud (but at the same time saying to the man, in a low tone, “Swear you are innocent").  “Say, is not your sentence just?”

“No ­no,” replied the man, in a loud voice, “I am innocent.”

The caliph, who was very attentive to all that passed, was much diverted by Yussuf’s proceedings, and wondered what he would do next.  Yussuf then walked up to the caliph, and prostrated himself.  “O caliph! vicegerent of the Prophet! deign to listen to your faithful beeldar, while he narrates a strange adventure which hath befallen him within these few days.”

“Speak, beeldar, we are all attention; remember that thy words be those of truth.”

“It was on the evening before your highness issued the decree that no water should be supplied to the bazaar, from the Tigris, that as I was sitting in my house, performing my sacred duties, and studying the Koran, which I read in a loud voice, three merchants of Moussul claimed and entreated my hospitality.  The Koran has pointed out hospitality as a virtue necessary to every true believer, and I hastened to open my door and receive them.”

“Indeed,” replied the caliph, looking at Giaffar.  “Tell me, beeldar, what sort of looking personages might these Moussul merchants be?”

“Ill-favoured to a degree.  One was a pot-bellied, rascally-looking fellow, with a great beard, who looked as if he had just come out of a jail. [The caliph winked at his vizier, as much as to say, There is your portrait.] Another was a black-bearded, beetle-browed, hang-dog looking rascal. [Giaffar bowed to the caliph.] And the third was a blubber-lipped, weazen-faced skeleton of a negro. [Mesrour clapped his hand to his dagger with impatience.] In short, your highness, I may safely say that the three criminals whose heads have just been forfeited to justice were, as far as appearances went, honest-looking men compared to the three Moussul merchants.  Nevertheless, as in duty bound, I received these three men, gave them shelter, and spread a table of the best before them.  They indulged in kabobs, and asking for wine and rakee, which, as forbidden by the law, I never taste, I went out and purchased it for them.  They did eat and drink till the dawn broke, and then they departed.”

“Indeed,” said the caliph.

“The next night, to my great annoyance, they aroused me from my devotions as before.  Again did my substance disappear in providing for their demands; and, after having eaten and drunk until they were intoxicated, they went away, and I hoped to see them no more, as they were not sparing in their observations upon the new decree of your highness, relative to the shutting up of the baths.”

“Proceed, good Yussuf.”

“The third night they again came, and having no more money to spare, and finding them still making my house a tavern, I hoped that they would come no more; but they came again, a fourth night, and then behaved most indecorously, singing lewd songs, and calling out for wine and rakee until I could bear it no more, and I then told them that I could no longer receive them.  The fat-stomached one, whom I have before mentioned, then rose, and said, ’Yussuf, we have proved your hospitality, and we thank you.  No one would have received three such ill-favoured persons, and have regaled them for the love of God, as you have done.  We will now reward thee.  Thou art a beeldar of the palace, and we will now present thee with the sword of justice, which has been lost since the days of the great Solomon; take this, and judge not by its outward appearance.  When commanded to take off the head of a criminal, if he is guilty, the sword will flash like fire, and never fail; but should he be innocent, it will become a harmless lath of wood.’  I took the present, and was about to return thanks, when the three ill-favoured Moussul merchants gradually took the form of celestial beings, and vanished.”

“Indeed, this is a strange story ­what, did the big-bellied fellow look like an angel?”

“As an angel of light, O caliph.”

“What, and the weazen-faced negro?”

“Like a houri, O caliph.”

“Well, then,” replied the caliph, “you shall now, Yussuf, try the power of this wonderful sword.  Strike off that criminal’s head.”

Yussuf returned to the robber, who remained kneeling, and walked round him, crying out with a loud voice, “O sword, if this man be guilty, do thy duty; but if he be, as he has declared in his dying moments, innocent, then become thou harmless.”  With these words Yussuf drew his sword, and exhibited a lath of palm-wood.  “He is innocent, O caliph; this man, being unjustly condemned, ought to be set free.”

“Most certainly,” replied the caliph, delighted with the manoeuvre of Yussuf, “let him be liberated.  Chief of the beeldars, we cannot part with a man, who, like Yussuf, possesses so famous a weapon.  Let there be ten more beeldars appointed, and let Yussuf have the command of them as chief, with the same perquisites and salary as the other chiefs.”

Yussuf prostrated himself before the caliph, delighted with his good fortune, and as he retired, he exclaimed, “I am Yussuf; my trust is in God.  Allah preserve the three Moussul merchants.”

It was not long before the caliph, Giaffar, and Mesrour appeared again as the merchants to Yussuf, and heartily enjoyed his discomfiture and confusion, when they discovered themselves.  Still Yussuf enjoyed the favour of Haroun to the end of his life, and was more fortunate than Giaffar and others, who only once fell under the wrath and suspicion of the all-powerful caliph.

“Such, O pacha, is the history of Yussuf, the water-carrier.”

“Yes, and a very good story too.  Have you not another, Menouni?”

“Your highness,” replied Mustapha, “the caravan will depart at break of day, and Menouni has but three hours to prepare.  It can no longer be detained without the chief making a report to the authorities, which would not be well received.”

“Be it so,” replied the pacha; “Let Menouni be rewarded, and we will try to find some other storyteller, until his return from his pilgrimage.”