rink, then," said the Barmecide. "Boy, bring on the wine!"

"Excuse me, my lord," said Schacabac, "I will drink no wine, for it is
for-bid-den."

The Barmecide seized him by the hand. "I have long wished to find a
man like you," he said. "But come, now we will sup in earnest."

He clapped his hands. Servants came, and he ordered supper. Soon they
sat down to a table loaded with the very dishes of which they had
pre-tend-ed to eat.

Poor Schacabac had never had so good a meal in all his life. When they
had fin-ished, and the table had been cleared away, the Barmecide
said,--

"I have found you to be a man of good un-der-stand-ing. Your wits are
quick, and you are ready always to make the best of everything. Come
and live with me, and manage my house."

And so Schacabac lived with the Barmecide many years, and never again
knew what it was to be hungry.

THE ENDLESS TALE.

In the Far East there was a great king who had no work to do. Every
day, and all day long, he sat on soft cush-ions and lis-tened to
stories. And no matter what the story was about, he never grew tired
of hearing it, even though it was very long.

"There is only one fault that I find with your story," he often said:
"it is too short."

All the story-tellers in the world were in-vit-ed to his palace; and
some of them told tales that were very long indeed. But the king was
always sad when a story was ended.

At last he sent word into every city and town and country place,
offering a prize to any one who should tell him an endless tale. He
said,--

"To the man that will tell me a story which shall last forever, I will
give my fairest daugh-ter for his wife; and I will make him my heir,
and he shall be king after me."

But this was not all. He added a very hard con-di-tion. "If any man
shall try to tell such a story and then fail, he shall have his head
cut off."

The king's daughter was very pretty, and there were many young men in
that country who were willing to do anything to win her. But none of
them wanted to lose their heads, and so only a few tried for the
prize.

One young man invented a story that lasted three months; but at the
end of that time, he could think of nothing more. His fate was a
warning to others, and it was a long time before another story-teller
was so rash as to try the king's patience.

But one day a stran-ger from the South came into the palace.

"Great king," he said, "is it true that you offer a