orn, the paper his father bought, got himself a box and began his
career as a scribe.

Abdul was a child, he knew nothing, but deeming himself wise he sought
to surpass the counsel of his father.

"To look wise," he said, "is not sufficient; I must have some other
attraction."

And after much thought he hit upon the following idea. Over his box he
painted a legend: "The wisdom of man is greater than the wisdom of
woman." People thought the sign very clever, customers came, the young
Hodja took in many piasters and he was correspondingly happy.

This sign one day attracted the eyes and mind of a Hanoum (Turkish
lady). Seeing that Abdul was a manly youth, she went to him and said:

"Hodja, I have a difficult letter to write. I have heard that thou art
very wise, so I have come to thee. To write the letter thou wilt need
all thy wit. Moreover, the letter is a long one, and I cannot stand
here while it is being written. Come to my Konak (house) at three this
afternoon, and we will write the letter."

The Hodja was overcome with admiration for his fair client, and
surprised at the invitation. He was enchanted, his heart beat wildly,
and so great was his agitation that his reply of acquiescence was
scarcely audible.

The invitation had more than the charm of novelty to make it
attractive. He had never talked with a woman outside of his own family
circle. To be admitted to a lady's house was in itself an adventure.

Long before the appointed time, the young Hodja--impetuous
youth--gathered together his reeds, ink, and sand. With feverish step
he wended his way to the house. Lattices covered the windows, a high
wall surrounded the garden, and a ponderous gate barred the entrance.
Thrice he raised the massive knocker.

"Who is there?" called a voice from within.

"The scribe," was the reply.

"It is well," said the porter; the gate was unbarred, and the Hodja
permitted to enter. Directly he was ushered into the apartment of his
fair client.

The lady welcomed him cordially.

"Ah! Hodja Effendi, I am glad to see you; pray sit down."

The Hodja nervously pulled out his writing-implements.

"Do not be in such a hurry," said the lady. "Refresh yourself; take a
cup of coffee, smoke a cigarette, and we will write the letter
afterwards."

So he lit a cigarette, drank a cup of coffee, and they fell to
talking. Time flew; the minutes seemed like seconds, and the hours
were as minutes. While they were thus enjoying th