ort, nor could he, for the life of him,
remember how the beard was wont to go. He got no sleep on that night
or the next night either, for thinking on the problem thus presented
to his mind. On the third day, in a rage, he called a barber and had
the beard cut off. Accustomed as he was to such a mass of hair upon
his neck, for lack of it he caught a cold and died.

'That story fits the case before us to a nicety,' said Suleyman in
conclusion, with an air of triumph.

'What is the moral of it, deign to tell us, master!' the cry arose
from all sides in the growing twilight.

'I suppose,' I hazarded, 'that, having had attention called to the
peculiar clothing of my legs, I shall eventually have them amputated
or wear Turkish trousers?'

'I say not what will happen; God alone knows that. But the mere chance
that such catastrophes, as I have shown, may happen is enough to make
wise people shun that kind of speech.'

I cannot to this day distinguish how much of his long harangue was
jest and how much earnest. But the fellahin devoured it as pure
wisdom.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] Rare things.

[3] Equivalent to 'Pax.'

[4] Genii.

CHAPTER VI

NAWADIR (_continued_)

'What happened to the man who went to seek one filthier than she was?
How could he ever find one filthier?' inquired Rashid, reverting to
Suleyman's unfinished story of the foolish woman and her husband and
the hapless cow, when we lay down to sleep that evening in the village
guest-room. I also asked to hear the rest of that instructive tale.
Suleyman, sufficiently besought, raised himself upon an elbow and
resumed the narrative. Rashid and I lay quiet in our wrappings.

'We had reached that point, my masters, where the injured husband,
having seen the remnant of the cow, said to his wife: "Now, I am going
to walk this world until I find one filthier than thou art; and if I
fail to find one filthier than thou art I shall go on walking till I
die." Well, he walked and he walked--for months, some people say, and
others years--until he reached a village in Mount Lebanon--a village
of the Maronites renowned for foolishness. It was the reputation of
their imbecility which made him go there.'

'What was his name?' inquired Rashid, who liked to have things clear.

'His name?' said Suleyman reflectively, 'was Salih.'

'He was a Muslim?'

'Aye, a Muslim, I suppose--though, Allah knows, he may perhaps have
been an Ismaili or a Druze. Any more questions