followed Mustapha.
With tears the two young girls thanked their noble rescuer Orbasan, but he hurried them on in their flight, as it was quite probable that Thiuli-Kos would pursue them in all directions. With deep emotion, Mustapha and the rescued ones parted from Orbasan on the following day. Of a truth, they will never forget him. Fatima, the freed slave, disguised herself and went to Balsora to take passage for her home, and all reached there safely after a short and agreeable journey.
The joy of seeing them again almost killed my father; but the day after their arrival, he ordered an immense banquet, to which the whole town came. My brother had then to repeat his story before a large number of relatives and friends, and with one voice they praised him and the noble Orbasan.
When my brother had finished, my father rose and led Zoraide up to him. "Thus," said he in joyful tones, "do I lift the curse from thy head; take her as the reward, which thou hast won through thy tireless zeal; take my fatherly blessing; and may our city never be wanting in men who, in brotherly love, in wisdom and zeal, resemble thee."
The caravan had reached the end of the desert, and the travelers joyfully greeted the green meadows and the thick foliage of the trees; a delightful view, of which they had been deprived for many days. In a beautiful valley was situated a caravansary, which they chose for a night's lodging; and although it offered poor accommodation and refreshment, yet the whole company were in better spirits and more confidential than ever, as the feeling that they had escaped all the dangers and discomforts which a journey through the desert brings, opened all hearts and disposed all minds to jests and sports. Muley, the active young merchant, danced a comic dance, accompanying himself with songs, until even the sad features of Zaleukos, the Greek, relaxed into a smile. But not satisfied with having entertained his fellow travelers with dances and games, he related, as soon as he had somewhat recovered from his violent exercise, the story which he had promised them.
LITTLE MUCK.
In Nicæea, my dearly-loved native city, lived a man who was called Little Muck, I can recall him distinctly, although I was quite young at the time, chiefly because of a severe chastisement I received from my father on his account. This Little Muck was already an old man when I knew him, and yet he was not more than four feet in height. His figure presented a singular appearance, as his body, small and childlike, seemed but a slender support for a head much larger than the heads of ordinary people. He lived all alone in a large house, and cooked his own meals, and had it not been for the smoke that rose from his kitchen chimney at midday, the townspeople would have remained in doubt as to whether he still lived; for he went out but once a month. He was, however, occasionally seen walking on the house-top, and to one looking up from the street there was presented the singular sight of a head moving to and fro. My companions and myself were rather bad boys, who took delight in teasing and making sport of everybody; so it was always a great holiday for us whenever Little Muck went out. We gathered before his house on the appointed day, and waited; and when now the door opened, and the large head, wrapped in a still larger turban, peeped out, followed by the rest of his little body, done up in a threadbare cloak, baggy breeches, and a wide sash, from which hung a dagger so long that it could not be told whether Muck stuck on the dagger or the dagger on Muck--when he thus made his appearance, the air echoed with our shouts; we threw up our caps, and danced around him like mad. Little Muck, however, returned our salute with a grave nod of the head, and shuffled slowly down the street in such great, wide slippers as I had never seen before. We boys ran behind him, shouting: "Little Muck! Little Muck!" We also had a jolly little verse that we now and then sang in his honor, which ran as follows:
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