his office; then the people on the street paused, looked
after him, and said to one another: "He is really a handsome, stately
man." "And rich,--a rich gentleman," another added; "extremely wealthy;
has he not a palace on the harbor of Stamboul? Has he not estates and
lands, and many thousand head of cattle, and a great number of slaves?"
"Yes," spoke up a third; "and the Tartar who was recently sent here from
Stamboul, with a message for the sheik from the sultan (may the Prophet
preserve him), told me that our sheik was thought highly of by the
minister of foreign affairs, by the lord high admiral, by all the
ministers, in fact; yes, even by the sultan." "Yes," exclaimed a
fourth, "fortune attends his steps. He is a wealthy distinguished
gentleman; but--but--you know what I mean!" "Yes, certainly,"
interrupted the others; "it is true he has his burden to carry, and I
wouldn't care to change places with him. He is rich, and a man of rank,
but, but--"

Ali Banu had a splendid house on the finest square in Alessandria. In
front of the house was a broad terrace, surrounded by a marble wall,
and shaded by palm trees. Here the sheik often sat of an evening
smoking his nargileh. At a respectable distance, twelve richly costumed
slaves awaited his orders; one carried his betel, another held his
parasol, a third had vessels of solid gold filled with rare sherbet, a
fourth carried a fan of peacock's feathers to drive away the flies from
his master's person, others were singers and carried lutes and wind
instruments to entertain him with music when he so desired, while the
best educated of them all carried scrolls from which to read to their
master.

But they waited in vain for him to signify his pleasure. He desired
neither music nor song; he did not wish to hear passages or poems from
the wise poets of the past; he would not taste of the sherbet, nor chew
of the betel; and even the slave with the fan had his labor for his
pains, as the master was indifferent to the flies that buzzed about
him.

The passers-by often stopped and wondered over the splendor of the
house, at the richly dressed slaves, and the signs of comfort that
prevailed every-where; but when their eyes fell on the sheik, sitting
so grave and melancholy under the palms, with his gaze never once
wandering from the little blue clouds of his nargileh, they shook their
heads and said: "Truly, this rich man is a poor man. He, who has so
much, is poorer than one