ries; but
to what purpose? It is not necessary for weak men to know the threads
by which their fates are linked together: suffice it to know that it
was necessary that you should perform all this, that you might be
tried. You are found worthy, and Heaven rewards you with Zoraine, the
early companion of your youth, now to be your wife."

Then Haschem turned towards Zoraine, and looked inquiringly at Saad,
her father. This latter said,

"With joy I listen to the will of fate: the highest wish of my heart
will now be fulfilled."

"Know," continued the genius, "that the slain bird was the enchanter
who had changed the Princess Handa and the Prince Mundian Oppu. They
were also to pass through trials: thus it was decreed by fate.
Because the enchanter only fulfilled the will of fate from selfish
motives, and carried his revenge beyond it, and contrary to it, the
King of the Genii commanded me to slay him."

With these words he disappeared from their sight. They returned now in
happy union to the city; and Naima, who had built his hut at the edge
of the wood, to be always near the place of his sorrow, dwelt again
with his children. Prince Mundian Oppu went back to Selandia in the
same ship that had brought Haschem. He was received there with
immeasurable joy, and was soon married to his early love. But
Haschem's name lived long in their memory, and in that of all the
inhabitants of that island.

When the Caliph Haroun al Raschid heard of Haschem's return, he had
him called before him, and made him relate his history. The Caliph was
so pleased with him, that he took him into his palace, and gave him an
important post in his Court. His history he caused to be inscribed in
the records of his kingdom. As Giafar, his old Vizier, wished to end
his life in quietness, the Caliph raised Haschem to be Grand Vizier;
and he continued long in this office, to the pleasure of his relatives
and the happiness of the people, by whom he was greatly beloved.

[Illustration]

The Pantofles.

[Illustration]

In Bagdad lived an old merchant, of the name of Abon Casem, who was
famous for his riches, but still more for his avarice. His coffers
were small to look at--if you could get a sight of them--and very
dirty; but they were crammed with jewels. His clothes were as scanty
as need be; but then, even in his clothes, there was _multum in
parvo_: to wit, much dirt, in little space. All the embroidery he wore
was of that kind which