hat was foretold of me. I stood by my tackle as a warrior
standeth by his arms, flourishing them. Now, when I found great things
came not to me, and 'twas the continuance of sameness and satiety with
Baba Mustapha, my uncle, in Shiraz,--the tongue-wagger, the endless
tattler,--surely I was advised by the words of the poet to go forth in
search of what was wanting, and he says:

"Thou that dreamest an Event,
While Circumstance is but a waste of sand,
Arise, take up thy fortunes in thy hand,
And daily forward pitch thy tent."

Now, I passed from city to city, proclaiming my science, holding aloft my
tackle. Wullahy! many adventures were mine, and if there's some day
propitiousness in fortune, O old woman, I'll tell thee of what befell me
in the kingdom of Shah Shamshureen: 'tis wondrous, a matter to draw down
the lower jaw with amazement! Now, so it was, that in the eyes of one
city I was honoured and in request, by reason of my calling, and I fared
sumptuously, even as a great officer of state surrounded by slaves,
lounging upon clouds of silk stuffs, circled by attentive ears: in
another city there was no beast so base as I. Wah! I was one hunted of
men and an abomination; no housing for me, nought to operate upon. I was
the lean dog that lieth in wait for offal. It seemeth certain, O old
woman, that a curse hath fallen on barbercraft in these days, because of
the Identical, whose might I know not. Everywhere it is growing in
disrepute; 'tis languishing! Nevertheless till now I have preserved my
tackle, and I would descend on yonder city to exercise it, even for a
livelihood, forgetting awhile great things, but that I dread men may have
changed there also,--and there's no stability in them, I call Allah
(whose name be praised!) to witness; so should I be a thing unsightly,
subject to hateful castigation; wherefore is it that I am in that state
described by the poet, when,

"Dreading retreat, dreading advance to make,
Round we revolve, like to the wounded snake."

Is not my case now a piteous one, one that toucheth the tender corner in
man and woman?'

When she that listened had heard him to an end, she shook her garments,
crying, 'O youth, son of my uncle, be comforted! for, if it is as I
think, the readers of planets were right, and thou art thus early within
reach of great things--nigh grasping them.'

Then she fell to mumbling and reciting jigs of verse, quaint measures;
an