town and to the house of the sorrowful young man. There, lo and
behold! instead of being dark and silent, as it was before, all
was ablaze with light and noisy with the sound of rejoicing and
merriment. There happened to be one of the household standing at
the door, and he knew the servant as the companion of that one who
had stolen the ruby ring. Up he came and laid hold of the servant
by the collar, calling to his companions that he had caught one of
the thieves. Into the house they hauled the poor servant, and into
the same room where he had been before, and there sat the young man
at a grand feast, with his wife and all his friends around him.
But when the young man saw the poor serving-man he came to him and
took him by the hand, and set him beside himself at the table.
“Nobody except your comrade could be so welcome as you,” said he,
“and this is why. An enemy of mine one time gave me a ruby ring,
and, though I knew nothing of it, it was the ring of discord that
bred strife wherever it came. So, as soon as it was brought into
the house, my wife and all my friends fell out with me, and we
quarrelled so that they all left me. But, though I knew it not at
that time, your comrade was an angel, and took the ring away with
him, and now I am as happy as I was sorrowful before.”
By the next night the servant had come back to his home again. Rap!
tap! tap! he knocked at the door, and the wise man who had been his
master opened to him. “What do you want?” said he.
“I want to take service with you again,” said the travelling
servant.
“Very well,” said the wise man; “come in and shut the door.”
And for all I know the travelling servant is there to this day. For
he is not the only one in the world who has come in sight of the
fruit of happiness, and then jogged all the way back home again to
cook cabbage and onions and pot-herbs, and to make broth for wiser
men than himself to sup.
That is the end of this story.
* * * * *
_“I like your story, holy sir,” said the Blacksmith who made Death
sit in a pear-tree. “Ne’th’less, it hath indeed somewhat the smack
of a sermon, after all. Methinks I am like my friend yonder,” and
he pointed with his thumb towards Fortunatus; “I like to hear a
story about treasures of silver and gold, and about kings and
princes--a story that turneth out well in the end, with everybody
happy, and the man himself married in luck, rather than one that
turneth out awry, even if it hath an angel in it.”_
_“Well, well,” said St. George, testily, “one cannot please
everybody. But as for being a sermon, why, certes, my story was not
that--and even if it were, it would not have hurt thee, sirrah.”_
_“No offence,” said the Blacksmith; “I meant not to speak ill of
your story. Come, come, sir, will you not take a pot of ale with
me?”_
_“Why,” said St. George, somewhat mollified, “for the matter of
that, I would as lief as not.”_
_“I liked the story well enough,” piped up the little Tailor who
had killed seven flies at a blow. “’Twas a good enough story of its
sort, but why does nobody tell a tale of good big giants, and of
wild boars, and of unicorns, such as I killed in my adventures you
wot of?”_
_Old Ali Baba had been sitting with his hands folded and his eyes
closed. Now he opened them and looked at the little Tailor. “I know
a story,” said he, “about a Genie who was as big as a giant, and
six times as powerful. And besides that,” he added, “the story is
all about treasures of gold, and palaces, and kings, and emperors,
and what not, and about a cave such as that in which I myself found
the treasure of the forty thieves.”_
_The Blacksmith who made Death sit in the pear-tree clattered the
bottom of his canican against the table. “Aye, aye,” said he, “that
is the sort of story for me. Come, friend, let us have it.”_
_“Stop a bit,” said Fortunatus; “what is this story mostly about?”_
_“It is,” said Ali Baba, “about two men betwixt whom there was--”_
[Illustration]
Not a Pin to Choose.
Once upon a time, in a country in the far East, a merchant was
travelling towards the city with three horses loaded with rich
goods, and a purse containing a hundred pieces of gold money.
The day was very hot, and the road dusty and dry, so that,
by-and-by, when he reached a spot where a cool, clear spring of
water came bubbling out from under a rock beneath the shade of
a wide-spreading wayside tree, he was glad enough to stop and
refresh himself with a draught of the clear coolness and rest
awhile. But while he stooped to drink at the fountain the purse of
gold fell from his girdle into the tall grass, and he, not seeing
it, let it lie there, and went his way.
Now it chanced that two fagot-makers--the elder by name Ali, the
younger Abdallah--who had been in the woods all day chopping
fagots, came also travelling the same way, and stopped at the same
fountain to drink. There the younger of the two spied the purse
lying in the grass, and picked it up. But when he opened it and
found it full of gold money, he was like one bereft of wits; he
flung his arms, he danced, he shouted, he laughed, he acted like
a madman; for never had he seen so much wealth in all of his life
before--a hundred pieces of gold money!
Now the older of the two was by nature a merry wag, and though he
had never had the chance to taste of pleasure, he thought that
nothing in the world could be better worth spending money for than
wine and music and dancing. So, when the evening had come, he
proposed that they two should go and squander it all at the Inn.
But the younger fellow--Abdallah--was by nature just as thrifty as
the other was spendthrift, and would not consent to waste what he
had found. Nevertheless he was generous and open-hearted, and
grudged his friend nothing; so, though he did not care for a wild
life himself, he gave Ali a piece of gold to spend as he chose.
[Illustration]
By morning every copper of what had been given to the elder
fagot-maker was gone, and he had never had such a good time in
his life before. All that day and for a week the head of Ali was
so full of the memory of the merry night that he had enjoyed that
he could think of nothing else. At last, one evening, he asked
Abdallah for another piece of gold, and Abdallah gave it to him,
and by the next morning it had vanished in the same way that the
other had flown. By-and-by Ali borrowed a third piece of money, and
then a fourth and then a fifth, so that by the time that six months
had passed and gone he had spent thirty of the hundred pieces that
had been found, and in all that time Abdallah had used not so much
as a pistareen.
But when Ali came for the thirty-and-first loan, Abdallah refused
to let him have any more money. It was in vain that the elder
begged and implored--the younger abided by what he had said.
Then Ali began to put on a threatening front. “You will not let me
have the money?” he said.
“No, I will not.”
“You will not?”
“No!”
“Then you shall!” cried Ali; and, so saying, caught the younger
fagot-maker by the throat, and began shaking him and shouting
“Help! Help! I am robbed! I am robbed!” He made such an uproar that
half a hundred men, women, and children were gathered around them
in less than a minute. “Here is ingratitude for you!” cried Ali.
“Here is wickedness and thievery! Look at this wretch, all good
men, and then turn away your eyes! For twelve years have I lived
with this young man as a father might live with a son, and now how
does he repay me? He has stolen all that I have in the world--a
purse of seventy sequins of gold.”
All this while poor Abdallah had been so amazed that he could do
nothing but stand and stare like one stricken dumb; whereupon all
the people, thinking him guilty, dragged him off to the judge,
reviling him and heaping words of abuse upon him.
Now the judge of that town was known far and near as the “Wise
Judge;” but never had he had such a knotty question as this brought
up before him, for by this time Abdallah had found his speech, and
swore with a great outcry that the money belonged to him.
But at last a gleam of light came to the Wise Judge in his
perplexity. “Can any one tell me,” said he, “which of these fellows
has had money of late, and which has had none?”
His question was one easily enough answered; a score of people were
there to testify that the elder of the two had been living well
and spending money freely for six months and more, and a score
were also there to swear that Abdallah had lived all the while in
penury. “Then that decides the matter,” said the Wise Judge. “The
money belongs to the elder fagot-maker.”
“But listen, oh my lord judge!” cried Abdallah. “All that this man
has spent I have given to him--I, who found the money. Yes, my
lord, I have given it to him, and myself have spent not so much as
a single mite.”
All who were present shouted with laughter at Abdallah’s speech,
for who would believe that any one would be so generous as to spend
all upon another and none upon himself?
So poor Abdallah was beaten with rods until he confessed where he
had hidden his money; then the Wise Judge handed fifty sequins to
Ali and kept twenty himself for his decision, and all went their
way praising his justice and judgment.
That is to say, all but poor Abdallah; he went to his home weeping
and wailing, and with every one pointing the finger of scorn at
him. He was just as poor as ever, and his back was sore with the
beating that he had suffered. All that night he continued to weep
and wail, and when the morning had come he was weeping and wailing
still.
[Illustration]
Now it chanced that a wise man passed that way, and, hearing his
lamentation, stopped to inquire the cause of his trouble. Abdallah
told the other of his sorrow, and the wise man listened, smiling,
till he was done, and then he laughed outright. “My son,” said
he, “if every one in your case should shed tears as abundantly as
you have done, the world would have been drowned in salt water by
this time. As for your friend, think not ill of him; no man loveth
another who is always giving.”
“Nay,” said the young fagot-maker, “I believe not a word of what
you say. Had I been in his place I would have been grateful for the
benefits, and not have hated the giver.”
But the wise man only laughed louder than ever. “Maybe you will
have the chance to prove what you say some day,” said he, and went
his way, still shaking with his merriment.
* * * * *
_“All this,” said Ali Baba, “is only the beginning of my story;
and now if the damsel will fill up my pot of ale, I will begin in
earnest and tell about the cave of the Genie.”_
_He watched Little Brown Betty until she had filled his mug, and
the froth ran over the top. Then he took a deep draught and began
again._
* * * * *
Though Abdallah had affirmed that he did not believe what the wise
man had said, nevertheless the words of the other were a comfort,
for it makes one feel easier in trouble to be told that others have
been in a like case with one’s self.
So, by-and-by, Abdallah plucked up some spirit, and, saddling his
ass and shouldering his axe, started off to the woods for a bundle
of fagots.
* * * * *
Misfortunes, they say, never come singly, and so it seemed to be
with the fagot-maker that day; for that happened that had never
happened to him before--he lost his way in the woods. On he went,
deeper and deeper into the thickets, driving his ass before him,
bewailing himself and rapping his head with his knuckles. But all
his sorrowing helped him nothing, and by the time that night fell
he found himself deep in the midst of a great forest full of wild
beasts, the very thought of which curdled his blood. He had had
nothing to eat all day long, and now the only resting-place left
him was the branches of some tree. So, unsaddling his ass and
leaving it to shift for itself, he climbed to and roosted himself
in the crotch of a great limb.
In spite of his hunger he presently fell asleep, for trouble breeds
weariness as it breeds grief.
About the dawning of the day he was awakened by the sound of voices
and the glaring of lights. He craned his neck and looked down, and
there he saw a sight that filled him with amazement: three old men
riding each upon a milk-white horse and each bearing a lighted
torch in his hand, to light the way through the dark forest.
When they had come just below where Abdallah sat, they dismounted
and fastened their several horses to as many trees. Then he who
rode first of the three, and who wore a red cap and who seemed to
be the chief of them, walked solemnly up to a great rock that stood
in the hill-side, and, breaking a switch from a shrub that grew in
a cleft, struck the face of the stone, crying in a loud voice, “I
command thee to open, in the name of the red Aldebaran!”
Instantly, creaking and groaning, the face of the rock opened like
a door, gaping blackly. Then, one after another, the three old men
entered, and nothing was left but the dull light of their torches,
shining on the walls of the passage-way.
[Illustration]
What happened inside the cavern the fagot-maker could neither see
nor hear, but minute after minute passed while he sat as in a maze
at all that had happened. Then presently he heard a deep thundering
voice and a voice as of one of the old men in answer. Then there
came a sound swelling louder and louder, as though a great crowd of
people were gathering together, and with the voices came the noise
of the neighing of horses and the trampling of hoofs. Then at last
there came pouring from out the rock a great crowd of horses laden
with bales and bundles of rich stuffs and chests and caskets of
gold and silver and jewels, and each horse was led by a slave clad
in a dress of cloth-of-gold, sparkling and glistening with precious
gems. When all these had come out from the cavern, other horses
followed, upon each of which sat a beautiful damsel, more lovely
than the fancy of man could picture. Beside the damsels marched
a guard, each man clad in silver armor, and each bearing a drawn
sword that flashed in the brightening day more keenly than the
lightning. So they all came pouring forth from the cavern until it
seemed as though the whole woods below were filled with the wealth
and the beauty of King Solomon’s day--and then, last of all, came
the three old men.
“In the name of the red Aldebaran,” said he who had bidden the
rock to open, “I command thee to become closed.” Again, creaking
and groaning, the rock shut as it had opened--like a door--and the
three old men, mounting their horses, led the way from the woods,
the others following. The noise and confusion of the many voices
shouting and calling, the trample and stamp of horses, grew fainter
and fainter, until at last all was once more hushed and still, and
only the fagot-maker was left behind, still staring like one dumb
and bereft of wits.
[Illustration]
But so soon as he was quite sure that all were really gone, he
clambered down as quickly as might be. He waited for a while to
make doubly sure that no one was left behind, and then he walked
straight up to the rock, just as he had seen the old man do. He
plucked a switch from the bush, just as he had seen the old man
pluck one, and struck the stone, just as the old man had struck
it. “I command thee to open,” said he, “in the name of the red
Aldebaran!”
Instantly, as it had done in answer to the old man’s command, there
came a creaking and a groaning, and the rock slowly opened like a
door, and there was the passageway yawning before him. For a moment
or two the fagot-maker hesitated to enter; but all was as still as
death, and finally he plucked up courage and went within.
By this time the day was brightening and the sun rising, and
by the gray light the fagot-maker could see about him pretty
clearly. Not a sign was to be seen of horses or of treasure or
of people--nothing but a square block of marble, and upon it a
black casket, and upon that again a gold ring, in which was set a
blood-red stone. Beyond these things there was nothing; the walls
were bare, the roof was bare, the floor was bare--all was bare and
naked stone.
“Well,” said the wood-chopper, “as the old men have taken
everything else, I might as well take these things. The ring is
certainly worth something, and maybe I shall be able to sell the
casket for a trifle into the bargain.” So he slipped the ring upon
his finger, and, taking up the casket, left the place. “I command
thee to be closed,” said he, “in the name of the red Aldebaran!”
And thereupon the door closed, creaking and groaning.
After a little while he found his ass, saddled it and bridled it,
and loaded it with the bundle of fagots that he had chopped the day
before, and then set off again to try to find his way out of the
thick woods. But still his luck was against him, and the farther
he wandered the deeper he found himself in the thickets. In the
meantime he was like to die of hunger, for he had not had a bite
to eat for more than a whole day.
“Perhaps,” said he to himself, “there may be something in the
casket to stay my stomach;” and, so saying, he sat him down,
unlocked the casket, and raised the lid.
* * * * *
Such a yell as the poor wretch uttered ears never heard before.
Over he rolled upon his back and there lay staring with wide eyes,
and away scampered the jackass, kicking up his heels and braying so
that the leaves of the trees trembled and shook. For no sooner had
he lifted the lid than out leaped a great hideous Genie, as black
as a coal, with one fiery-red eye in the middle of his forehead
that glared and rolled most horribly, and with his hands and feet
set with claws, sharp and hooked like the talons of a hawk. Poor
Abdallah the fagot-maker lay upon his back staring at the monster
with a face as white as wax.
“What are thy commands?” said the Genie in a terrible voice, that
rumbled like the sound of thunder.
“I--I do not know,” said Abdallah, trembling and shaking as with an
ague. “I--I have forgotten.”
“Ask what thou wilt,” said the Genie, “for I must ever obey
whomsoever hast the ring that thou wearest upon thy finger. Hath my
lord nothing to command wherein I may serve him?”
[Illustration]
Abdallah shook his head. “No,” said he, “there is
nothing--unless--unless you will bring me something to eat.”
“To hear is to obey,” said the Genie. “What will my lord be pleased
to have?”
“Just a little bread and cheese,” said Abdallah.
The Genie waved his hand, and in an instant a fine damask napkin
lay spread upon the ground, and upon it a loaf of bread as white as
snow and a piece of cheese such as the king would have been glad to
taste. But Abdallah could do nothing but sit staring at the Genie,
for the sight of the monster quite took away his appetite.
“What more can I do to serve thee?” asked the Genie.
“I think,” said Abdallah, “that I could eat more comfortably if you
were away.”
“To hear is to obey,” said the Genie. “Whither shall I go? Shall I
enter the casket again?”
“I do not know,” said the fagot-maker; “how did you come to be
there?”
“I am a great Genie,” answered the monster, “and was conjured
thither by the great King Solomon, whose seal it is that thou
wearest upon thy finger. For a certain fault that I committed I
was confined in the box and hidden in the cavern where thou didst
find me to-day. There I lay for thousands of years until one day
three old magicians discovered the secret of where I lay hidden. It
was they who only this morning compelled me to give them that vast
treasure which thou sawest them take away from the cavern not long
since.”
“But why did they not take you and the box and the ring away also?”
asked Abdallah.
“Because,” answered the Genie, “they are three brothers, and
neither two care to trust the other one with such power as the ring
has to give, so they made a solemn compact among themselves that I
should remain in the cavern, and that no one of the three should
visit it without the other two in his company. Now, my lord, if it
is thy will that I shall enter the casket again I must even obey
thy command in that as in all things; but, if it please thee, I
would fain rejoin my own kind again--they from whom I have been
parted for so long. Shouldst thou permit me to do so I will still
be thy slave, for thou hast only to press the red stone in the ring
and repeat these words: ‘By the red Aldebaran, I command thee to
come,’ and I will be with thee instantly. But if I have my freedom
I shall serve thee from gratitude and love, and not from compulsion
and with fear.”
“So be it!” said Abdallah. “I have no choice in the matter, and
thou mayest go whither it pleases thee.”
No sooner had the words left his lips than the Genie gave a great
cry of rejoicing, so piercing that it made Abdallah’s flesh creep,
and then, fetching the black casket a kick that sent it flying over
the tree tops, vanished instantly.
“Well,” quoth Abdallah, when he had caught his breath from his
amazement, “these are the most wonderful things that have happened
to me in all of my life.” And thereupon he fell to at the bread and
cheese, and ate as only a hungry man can eat. When he had finished
the last crumb he wiped his mouth with the napkin, and, stretching
his arms, felt within him that he was like a new man.
Nevertheless, he was still lost in the woods, and now not even with
his ass for comradeship.
He had wandered for quite a little while before he bethought
himself of the Genie. “What a fool am I,” said he, “not to have
asked him to help me while he was here.” He pressed his finger
upon the ring, and cried in a loud voice, “By the red Aldebaran, I
command thee to come!”
Instantly the Genie stood before him--big, black, ugly, and grim.
“What are my lord’s commands?” said he.
[Illustration]
“I command thee,” said Abdallah the fagot-maker, who was not half
so frightened at the sight of the monster this time as he had been
before--“I command thee to help me out of this woods.”
Hardly were the words out of his mouth when the Genie snatched
Abdallah up, and, flying swifter than the lightning, set him down
in the middle of the highway on the outskirts of the forest before
he had fairly caught his breath.
* * * * *
When he did gather his wits and looked about him, he knew very well
where he was, and that he was upon the road that led to the city.
At the sight his heart grew light within him, and off he stepped
briskly for home again.
But the sun shone hot and the way was warm and dusty, and before
Abdallah had gone very far the sweat was running down his face
in streams. After a while he met a rich husbandman riding easily
along on an ambling nag, and when Abdallah saw him he rapped his
head with his knuckles. “Why did I not think to ask the Genie for
a horse?” said he. “I might just as well have ridden as to have
walked, and that upon a horse a hundred times more beautiful than
the one that that fellow rides.”
He stepped into the thicket beside the way, where he might be out
of sight, and there pressed the stone in his ring, and at his
bidding the Genie stood before him.
“What are my lord’s commands?” said he.
“I would like to have a noble horse to ride upon,” said
Abdallah--“a horse such as a king might use.”
“To hear is to obey,” said the Genie; and, stretching out his hand,
there stood before Abdallah a magnificent Arab horse, with a saddle
and bridle studded with precious stones, and with housings of gold.
“Can I do aught to serve my lord further?” said the Genie.
“Not just now,” said Abdallah; “if I have further use for you I
will call you.”
The Genie bowed his head and was gone like a flash, and Abdallah
mounted his horse and rode off upon his way. But he had not gone
far before he drew rein suddenly. “How foolish must I look,” said
he, “to be thus riding along the high-road upon this noble steed,
and I myself clad in fagot-maker’s rags.” Thereupon he turned his
horse into the thicket and again summoned the Genie. “I should
like,” said he, “to have a suit of clothes fit for a king to wear.”
“My lord shall have that which he desires,” said the Genie. He
stretched out his hand, and in an instant there lay across his
arm raiment such as the eyes of man never saw before--stiff with
pearls, and blazing with diamonds and rubies and emeralds and
sapphires. The Genie himself aided Abdallah to dress, and when he
looked down he felt, for the time, quite satisfied.
He rode a little farther. Then suddenly he bethought himself, “What
a silly spectacle shall I cut in the town with no money in my purse
and with such fine clothes upon my back.” Once more the Genie was
summoned. “I should like,” said the fagot-maker, “to have a box
full of money.”
The Genie stretched out his hand, and in it was a casket of
mother-of-pearl inlaid with gold and full of money. “Has my lord
any further commands for his servant?” asked he.
“No,” answered Abdallah. “Stop--I have, too,” he added. “Yes; I
would like to have a young man to carry my money for me.”
“He is here,” said the Genie. And there stood a beautiful youth
clad in clothes of silver tissue, and holding a milk-white horse by
the bridle.
“Stay, Genie,” said Abdallah. “Whilst thou art here thou mayest
as well give me enough at once to last me a long time to come. Let
me have eleven more caskets of money like this one, and eleven more
slaves to carry the same.”
[Illustration]