Once upon a time there was a famous Arab [Footnote: Ar'ab.] whose name
was Al Mansur. He was the ruler of all the Arabs, and was therefore
called the caliph. [Footnote: Caliph (_pronounced_ ka'lif).]
Al Mansur loved poetry and was fond of hearing poets repeat their own
verses. Sometimes, if a poem was very pleasing, he gave the poet a
prize. One day a poet whose name was Thalibi [Footnote: Thal i'bi.]
came to the caliph and recited a long poem. When he had finished, he
bowed, and waited, hoping that he would be rewarded.
"Which would you rather have" asked the caliph, "three hundred pieces
of gold, or three wise sayings from my lips?"
The poet wished very much to please the caliph. So he said, "Oh, my
master, everybody should choose wisdom rather than wealth."
The caliph smiled, and said, "Very well, then, listen to my first wise
saying: When your coat is worn out, don't sew on a new patch; it will
look ugly."
"Oh, dear!" moaned the poet. "There go a hundred gold pieces all at
once." The caliph smiled again. Then he said, "Listen now to my second
word of wisdom. It is this: When you oil your beard, don't oil it too
much, lest it soil your clothing."
"Worse and worse!" groaned the poor poet. "There go the second hundred.
What shall I do?"
"Wait, and I will tell you," said the caliph; and he smiled again. "My
third wise saying is--"
"O caliph, have mercy!" cried the poet. "Keep the third piece of wisdom
for your own use, and let me have the gold."
The caliph laughed outright, and so did every one that heard him. Then
he ordered his treasurer to pay the poet five hundred pieces of gold;
for, indeed, the poem which he had recited was wonderfully fine.
The caliph, Al Mansur, lived nearly twelve hundred years ago. He was
the builder of a famous and beautiful city called Bagdad.
"BECOS! BECOS! BECOS!"
Thousands of years ago the greatest country, in the world was Egypt.
It was a beautiful land lying on both sides of the wonderful river
Nile. In it were many great cities; and from one end of it to the other
there were broad fields of grain and fine pastures for sheep and
cattle.
The people of Egypt were very proud; for they believed that they were
the first and oldest of all nations.
"It was in our country that the first men and women lived," they said.
"All the people of the world were once Egyptians."
A king of Egypt, whose name was Psammeticus, [Footnote: Psammeticus
(_pro._ sam met'i kus).] wished to make sure whether this was true or
not. How could he find out?
He tried first one plan and then another; but none of them proved
anything at all. Then he called his wisest men together and asked them,
"Is it really true that the first people in the world were Egyptians?"
They answered, "We cannot tell you, O King; for none of our histories
go back so far."
Then Psammeticus tried still another plan.
He sent out among the poor people of the city and found two little
babies who had never heard a word spoken. He gave these to a shepherd
and ordered him to bring them up among his sheep, far from the homes
of men. "You must never speak a word to them," said the king; "and you
must not permit any person to speak in their hearing."
The shepherd did as he was bidden. He took the children far away to
a green valley where his flocks were feeding. There he cared for them
with love and kindness; but no word did he speak in their hearing.
They grew up healthy and strong. They played with the lambs in the
field and saw no human being but the shepherd.
Thus two or three years went by. Then, one evening when the shepherd
came home from a visit to the city, he was delighted to see the
children running out to meet him. They held up their hands, as though
asking for something, and cried out, "Becos! becos! becos!"
[Illustration]
The shepherd led them gently back to the hut and gave them their usual
supper of bread and milk. He said nothing to them, but wondered where
they had heard the strange word "becos," and what was its meaning.
After that, whenever the children were hungry, they cried out, "Becos!
becos! becos!" till the shepherd gave them something to eat.
Some time later, the shepherd went to the city and told the king that
the children had learned to speak one word, but how or from whom, he
did not know.
"What is that word?" asked the king.
"Becos."
Then the king called one of the wisest scholars in Egypt and asked him
what the word meant.
"Becos," said the wise man, "is a Phrygian [Footnote: Phrygian
(_pro_. frij'i an).] word, and it means _bread_."
"Then what shall we understand by these children being able to speak
a Phrygian word which they have never heard from other lips?" asked
the king.
"We are to understand that the Phrygian language was the first of all
languages," was the answer. "These children are learning it just as
the first people who lived on the earth learned it in the beginning."
"Therefore," said the king, "must we conclude that the Phrygians were
the first and oldest of all the nations?"
"Certainly," answered the wise man.
And from that time the Egyptians always spoke of the Phrygians as being
of an older race than themselves.
This was an odd way of proving something, for, as every one can readily
see, it proved nothing.