tion and recollection of the rules she had given her, that so
her mind might never be suffered to grow forgetful of the truths she
had treasured up. "For," said the provident Houadir, "when it shall
please the Prophet to snatch me also from you, my dear Urad will then
have only the peppercorns to assist her."

"And how, my kind governess," said Urad, "will those corns assist me?"

"They will," answered Houadir, "each of them (if you remember the
precepts I gave you with them, but not otherwise), be serviceable in
the times of your necessities."

Urad, with great reluctance, from that time was obliged to go without
her evening lectures; which loss affected her much, for she knew no
greater pleasure in life than hanging over Houadir's persuasive
tongue, and hearing, with fixed attention, the sweet doctrines of
prudence, chastity, and virtue.

As Urad, according to her usual custom (after having spent some few
early hours at her employment), advanced toward the bed to call her
kind instructress, whose infirmities would not admit her to rise
betimes, she perceived that Houadir was risen from her bed.

The young virgin was amazed at the novelty of her instructress's
behaviour, especially as she seldom moved without assistance, and
hastened into a little inclosure to look after her; but not finding
Houadir there, she went to the neighbouring cottages, none of the
inhabitants of which could give any account of the good old matron;
nevertheless the anxious Urad continued her search, looking all around
the woods and forest, and often peeping over the rocks of the Tigris,
as fearful that some accident might have befallen her. In this
fruitless labour the poor virgin fatigued herself, till the sun, as
tired of her toils, refused any longer to assist her search; when,
returning to her lonely cot, she spent the night in tears and
lamentations.

The helpless Urad now gave herself up entirely to grief; and the
remembrance of her affectionate mother added a double portion of
sorrows to her heart: she neglected to open her lonely cottage, and
went not forth to the labours of the silk-worm; but, day after day,
with little or no nourishment, she continued weeping the loss of
Houadir, her mild instructress, and Nouri, her affectionate mother.

The neighbouring cottagers, observing that Urad came no longer to the
silk-worms, and that her dwelling was daily shut up, after some time
knocked at her cottage, and demanded if Urad the dau