[Transcriber's Note: Bold text is surrounded by =equal signs= and italic
text is surrounded by _underscores_.]
Our Little Persian Cousin
THE
Little Cousin Series
(TRADE MARK)
Each volume illustrated with six or more full-page plates in
tint. Cloth, 12mo, with decorative cover,
per volume, 60 cents
LIST OF TITLES
BY MARY HAZELTON WADE
(unless otherwise indicated)
=Our Little African Cousin=
=Our Little Alaskan Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Arabian Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Armenian Cousin=
=Our Little Australian Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Brazilian Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Brown Cousin=
=Our Little Canadian Cousin=
By Elizabeth R. MacDonald
=Our Little Chinese Cousin=
By Isaac Taylor Headland
=Our Little Cuban Cousin=
=Our Little Dutch Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Egyptian Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little English Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Eskimo Cousin=
=Our Little French Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little German Cousin=
=Our Little Greek Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Hawaiian Cousin=
=Our Little Hindu Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Hungarian Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Indian Cousin=
=Our Little Irish Cousin=
=Our Little Italian Cousin=
=Our Little Japanese Cousin=
=Our Little Jewish Cousin=
=Our Little Korean Cousin=
By H. Lee M. Pike
=Our Little Mexican Cousin=
By Edward C. Butler
=Our Little Norwegian Cousin=
=Our Little Panama Cousin=
By H. Lee M. Pike
=Our Little Persian Cousin=
By E. C. Shedd
=Our Little Philippine Cousin=
=Our Little Porto Rican Cousin=
=Our Little Russian Cousin=
=Our Little Scotch Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Siamese Cousin=
=Our Little Spanish Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Swedish Cousin=
By Claire M. Coburn
=Our Little Swiss Cousin=
=Our Little Turkish Cousin=
L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
New England Building, Boston, Mass.
[Illustration: "HE CARRIED IT HOME ON HIS SHOULDER." (_See page 92._)]
Our Little Persian Cousin
By
E. Cutler Shedd
_Illustrated by_
Diantha W. Horne
[Illustration]
Boston
L. C. Page & Company
_MDCCCCIX_
_Copyright, 1909_
BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
(INCORPORATED)
_Entered at Stationers' Hall, London_
_All rights reserved_
_First Impression, July, 1909_
_Electrotyped and Printed at
THE COLONIAL PRESS:
C. H. Simonds & Co., Boston, U. S. A._
Preface
PERSIA is mostly a tableland, from which rise many high mountains. In
the winter come storms of snow and rain; in the spring the ground is
green with grass and bright with many flowers; but in the late summer
and fall it is dry and hot. Over the mountains wander the Kurds, who
live in tents, and drive with them the great flocks of goats and
sheep whose milk gives them food and from whose wool they weave their
clothing and rugs. In many of the valleys are villages. Here live the
busy Persian peasants, who have brought the water in long channels
from its bed in the valleys to water their fields and orchards. Where
plenty of water is found there are towns and cities.
Over two thousand years ago the kings of the Persians were the most
powerful in the world, and ruled all the country from India to Europe.
Some of them helped the Jews, as is told in the books of Ezra and
Nehemiah in the Old Testament. Two of them tried to conquer Greece,
but the brave Greeks defeated their armies in the famous battles of
Marathon and Salamis. Many years later the Greeks themselves under
Alexander the Great invaded Persia and won its empire. But the Persians
afterwards regained the power, and for five centuries held their own
against the armies of the Roman emperors.
Suddenly great armies of Arabs poured out from the wide desert land
of Arabia, eager to conquer the world, and to bring others to accept
the new religion taught by their prophet, Muhammad. Thousands of
them entered Persia. They induced the Persians to forsake their own
religion, called fire worship, and to become Muhammadans.
Six hundred years passed, when new and more terrible invaders spread
over the land. These were armies of horsemen armed with bows, who came
in thousands from the wide plains of Siberia. They were the ancestors
of the Turks. They destroyed a great many villages and cities, and
killed tens of thousands of the Persians. Even yet, after more than
five hundred years, one may see in Persia ruins made by them. A great
many Turks still live in northern Persia.
The Persians are now a weak and ignorant nation; but the most
progressive of them are trying to secure good schools and to improve
their country in other ways.
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
I. KARIM ARRIVES 1
II. KARIM'S RELATIVES AND HOME 9
III. KARIM GOES EXPLORING 18
IV. THE EVIL EYE STRIKES KARIM 25
V. KARIM AT WORK AND PLAY 35
VI. A TRIP TO THE CITY 49
VII. KARIM'S RELIGION 60
VIII. KARIM'S GOOD FORTUNE 70
IX. KARIM LEAVES HOME 81
X. KARIM GOES TO MARKET 86
XI. KARIM AT THE PALACE 93
XII. SOHRAB AND RUSTEM 102
XIII. NEW OPPORTUNITIES 113
XIV. TWO IMPORTANT EVENTS 121
XV. AMONG THE KURDS 130
XVI. RUMOURS OF WAR 137
XVII. SHEIKH TAHAR 144
XVIII. A BATTLE AND WHAT CAME OF IT 155
XIX. FAREWELL TO KARIM 162
List of Illustrations
PAGE
"HE CARRIED IT HOME ON HIS SHOULDER" (_See page 92_) _Frontispiece_
"HE WAS SO FAT THAT HER BACK OFTEN ACHED" 18
"HERE KARIM SAT ALL DAY" 37
"DADA AND KARIM STARTED VERY EARLY" 49
"THE SUN ROSE WHEN THEY WERE HALF WAY OVER" 50
THE GOVERNOR'S PALACE 81
"PUTTING THE PAPER ON HIS KNEE AS HE SAT ON THE FLOOR" 118
A KURDISH SHEPHERD 130
SHEIKH TAHAR AND HIS HORSEMEN 150
KARIM AND HIS BRIDE 164
Our Little Persian Cousin
CHAPTER I
KARIM ARRIVES
EVERY one in the house of Abdullah was smiling on the day when a boy
was born. Even Ashak the donkey, as he was bringing big bundles of
wheat from the field, did not get half as many pokes as usual from the
nail pointed stick that took the place of a whip, and was actually let
alone for a whole afternoon to eat the dead grass and crisp thistles by
the roadside.
Old Bajee, who was caring for the baby, ran as fast as she could to be
the first to tell the news to Abdullah, calling out all the way, "Good
news! a boy! a boy!"
"Praise be to God!" exclaimed Abdullah, and gave her a piece of silver
money worth half a dollar. Laughing from joy she clutched this tight in
her fist, and almost touched the ground with her forehead as she bowed
to him. She had never owned half a dollar at one time except twice
before in her life.
Abdullah hurried to the little shop around the corner and bought a loaf
of sugar and some tea, and the tea urn, or samovar, was soon steaming.
His neighbours--all men--came to congratulate him. Some brought raisins
as a present, some melons. One brought another small loaf of sugar.
"May his foot be blessed!" they said. (They meant the baby's foot.)
"This is light to your eyes!" "May you be the father of eight boys and
no girls!"
Said Abdullah, "Praise be to God!" and gave them all small tumblers of
tea that was nearly boiling and as sweet as sugar could make it.
Meantime the women were coming to see the baby. Old Bajee had rubbed
him all over with salt; then she had tied a dark handkerchief over
his eyes and wrapped him up in strips of cotton cloth and a little
quilt. He was now lying by his mother. She was thinking about the
Evil Eye,--an evil spirit or fairy who was always trying to do bad
things,--and looked anxiously at the baby's arm.
"Where is the charm, Bajee?" she asked.
"Yes," said a neighbour, "he needs a charm at once, for he is so very
pretty."
"Oh, don't say that," exclaimed the mother; "the Evil Eye will hurt him
if you do. Bring the charm."
Bajee brought a piece of paper on which the mullah (or preacher) had
written a prayer asking the angels to keep the Evil Eye away, and
putting this in a tiny bag she tied it to the baby's right arm. "That
prayer will frighten the Evil Eye," she said.
All this seemed very interesting to Almas. How delightful it was to
have a baby brother. She wondered why her uncle Mashaddi had not seemed
greatly pleased when a baby girl had come to his house two weeks
before. No one had even called to congratulate him. But now her father
was getting up a dinner party, and they were roasting a whole lamb for
it, and cooking, oh! so many other delicious things. She could smell
the onions even from the street, so she asked her grandmother for
something good.
Grandmother laughed and said, "The front door cried for three days when
you were born. But God gave you to us, and we are not sorry."
Then she gave Almas a big piece of bread with rice and meat heaped upon
it, and some omelet mixed with molasses.
Meantime mother was sleeping with baby by her side. Her last words
had been, "Bajee, be sure to keep the light burning, so that the evil
spirits will be afraid and not get the baby."
When baby was just a week old, the preacher, whom they called the
mullah, came to give him a name. He brought the holy book which was
their Bible, and which they called the Koran. No one in that village
believed in Jesus Christ in the way in which Christians do, but were in
religion what we call Muhammadans. The mullah stood over the baby and
read out of this Koran in a loud, sing-song voice.
Baby was frightened, and cried.
The mullah did not stop, but next made a long prayer in words which no
one else could understand, because he was speaking in Arabic, the holy
language which Muhammad, the prophet who had composed the Koran, had
spoken. Then he called out, "Your name is Karim!"
Almas thought it was quite a funny sight to see his long red beard
wagging back and forth while he made such strange sounds, and so she
broke into a laugh, at which her father turned and struck her. She
went out crying softly. She did not like the mullah. Why had he come
to frighten baby? He had not named her little cousin. Old Bajee had
shouted in her ear, "Your name is Fatima!" and that was all.
After this Karim was laid in a very narrow cradle without any sides,
and long strips of cloth were wrapped around and around him and under
the bottom of the cradle. His arms were tied down, and a calico curtain
kept the light out. He lay in this dark little place nearly all the
time for the first six months, generally asleep.
Although Abdullah was very proud of him, he hardly noticed him for over
a month, because the evil spirits would wonder what he was looking at
and come to see.
Once a day baby's mother would build the fire for cooking, and the room
would fill with smoke, because there was no chimney, but only a hole in
the middle of the ceiling. At first he cried every time, for the smoke
made his eyes smart with pain. His mother put some medicine upon them
when she saw how red they had become, and asked Bajee what the matter
was.
"How can I tell?" said Bajee. "Babies always have sore eyes."
When the curtain was loose and it was not too dark the flies came to
visit him. There seemed to be hundreds of them, and they walked all
over his face and even into his mouth, but were especially fond of his
red eyes and gathered in black rows around them. He winked and winked,
but they did not care. Then he would begin to cry.
After a while mother would come to fix the curtain and rock the cradle,
or perhaps--and this was the best of all--she would undo the wrappings
and take him in her arms for a few minutes, singing, "My dear baby! my
sweet baby! You are my father! and the father of my father!" She meant
that she thought as much of him as of her grandfather, and every one
always talked as if people cared more for a grandfather than for any
one else.