red with a young
wife from my own distant country to fight the terrible Base; how I had
slain them in a single combat, and bow elephants and lions were struck
down like lambs and kids by my hands. That during my absence in the hunt
my wife had been carried off by the Base; that I had, on my return to
my pillaged camp, galloped off in chase, and, overtaking the enemy,
hundreds had fallen by my rifle and sword, and I had liberated and
recovered the lady, who now had arrived safe with her lord in the
country of the great Mek Nimmur, etc., etc.

This was all very pretty, no doubt, and as true as most poetical and
musical descriptions; but I felt certain that there must be something
to pay for this flattering entertainment. If you are considered to be
a great man, a PRESENT is invariably expected in proportion to your
importance. I suggested to Taher Noor that I must give him a couple of
dollars. "What!" said Taher Noor, "a couple of dollars? Impossible!
a musician of his standing is accustomed to receive thirty and forty
dollars from great people for so beautiful and honorable a song."

This was somewhat startling. I began to reflect upon the price of a box
at Her Majesty's Theatre in London; but there I was not the hero of the
opera. This minstrel combined the whole affair in a most simple manner.
He was Verdi, Costa, and orchestra all in one. He was a thorough
Macaulay as historian, therefore I had to pay the composer as well as
the fiddler. I compromised the matter, and gave him a few dollars, as I
understood that he was Mek Nimmur's private minstrel; but I never parted
with my dear Maria Theresa (* The Austrian dollar, that is the only
large current coin in that country.) with so much regret as upon that
occasion, and I begged him not to incommode himself by paying us another
visit, or, should he be obliged to do so, I trusted he would not think
it necessary to bring his violin.

The minstrel retired in the same order that he had arrived, and I
watched his retreating figure with unpleasant reflections, that were
suggested by doubts as to whether I had paid him too little or too much.
Taher Noor thought that he was underpaid; my own opinion was that I
had brought a curse upon myself equal to a succession of London
organ-grinders, as I fully expected that other minstrels, upon hearing
of the Austrian dollars, would pay us a visit and sing of my great
deeds.

In the afternoon we were sitting beneath the shade of our ta