t even on his back and shoulders, had retreated to
his own room, "Suleyman, the son of Daood, sleeps with his fathers."

"I know," retorted Horace, whose nerves were unequal to much reference
to Solomon just then. "So does Queen Anne."

"I have not heard of her. But art thou not astounded, then, by my
tidings?"

"I have matters nearer home to think about," said Horace, dryly. "I must
say, Mr. Fakrash, you have landed me in a pretty mess!"

"Explain thyself more fully, for I comprehend thee not."

"Why on earth," Horace groaned, "couldn't you let me build that house my
own way?"

"Did I not hear thee with my own ears lament thy inability to perform
the task? Thereupon, I determined that no disgrace should fall upon thee
by reason of such incompetence, since I myself would erect a palace so
splendid that it should cause thy name to live for ever. And, behold, it
is done."

"It is," said Horace. "And so am I. I don't want to reproach you. I
quite feel that you have acted with the best intentions; but, oh, hang
it all! _can't_ you see that you've absolutely wrecked my career as an
architect?"

"That is a thing that cannot be," returned the Jinnee, "seeing that thou
hast all the credit."

"The credit! This is England, not Arabia. What credit can I gain from
being supposed to be the architect of an Oriental pavilion, which might
be all very well for Haroun-al-Raschid, but I can assure you is
preposterous as a home for an average Briton?"

"Yet that overfed hound," remarked the Jinnee, "expressed much
gratification therewith."

"Naturally, after he had found that he could not give a candid opinion
except on all-fours. A valuable testimonial, that! And how do you
suppose I can take his money? No, Mr. Fakrash, if I have to go on
all-fours myself for it, I must say, and I will say, that you've made a
most frightful muddle of it!"

"Acquaint me with thy wishes," said Fakrash, a little abashed, "for thou
knowest that I can refuse thee naught."

"Then," said Horace, boldly, "couldn't you remove that palace--dissipate
it into space or something?"

"Verily," said the Jinnee, in an aggravated tone, "to do good acts unto
such as thee is but wasted time, for thou givest me no peace till they
are undone!"

"This is the last time," urged Horace; "I promise never to ask you for
anything again."

"Not for the first time hast thou made such a promise," said Fakrash.
"And save for the magnitude of thy service unto me, I w