thers who can obtain stories besides the Caliph
Haroun."

The slave was ordered into the pacha's presence. He was a dark man with
handsome features, and he walked in with a haughty carriage, which
neither his condition nor tattered garments could disguise. When within
a few feet of the carpet of state he bowed and folded his arms in
silence. "I wish to know upon what grounds you asserted that you were so
good a judge of wine the other evening, when you were quarrelling with
the Greek slave."

"I stated my reason at the time, your highness, which was, because I had
been for many years a monk of the Dominican order."

"I recollect that you said so. What trade is that, Mustapha?" inquired
the pacha.

"If your slave is not mistaken, a good trade every where. The infidel
means that he was a mollah or dervish among the followers of Isauri."[2]

[2] Jesus Christ.

"May they and their fathers' graves be eternally defiled," cried the
pacha. "Do not they drink wine and eat pork? Have you nothing more to
say?" inquired the pacha.

"My life has been one of interest," replied the slave, "and if it will
please your highness, I will narrate my history."

"It is our condescension. Sit down and proceed."

STORY OF THE MONK.

May it please your highness, I am a Spaniard by birth, and, a native of
Seville; but whether my father was a grandee, or of a more humble
extraction, I cannot positively assert. All that I can establish is,
that when reason dawned, I found myself in the asylum instituted by
government, in that city, for those unfortunate beings who are brought
up upon black bread and oil, because their unnatural parents either do
not choose to incur the expense of their maintenance, or having, in the
first instance, allowed unlawful love to conquer shame, end by
permitting shame to overcome maternal love.

It is the custom, at a certain age, to put these children out to
different trades and callings; and those who show precocity of talent
are often received into the bosom of the church.

Gifted by nature with a very fine voice and correct ear for music, I was
selected to be brought up as a chorister in a Dominican convent of great
reputation. At the age of ten years, I was placed under the charge of
the leader of the choir. Under his directions, I was fully occupied
receiving my lessons in singing, or at other times performing the junior
offices of the church, such as carrying the frankincense or large wax
tape