Upon that he waved his hand and stalked majestically, and they descended
from the roof into the street, criers running in front to clear the way.
When Baba Mustapha was hidden from view by a corner of the street, Noorna
shrank in her white shoulders and laughed, and was like a flashing pearl
as she swayed and dimpled with laughter. And she cried, 'True are those
words of the poet, and I testify to them in the instance of Baba
Mustapha:
“With feathers of the cock, I'll fashion a vain creature;
With feathers of the owl, I'll make a judge in feature”;
Is not the barber elate and lofty? He goeth forth to the mastery of this
Event as go many, armed with nought other than their own conceit: and
'tis written:
“Fools from their fate seek not to urge:
The coxcomb carrieth his scourge.”'