ith his story.

* * * * *

The great caliph, Haroun Alraschid, had as usual held his afternoon
audience; the court was dismissed. Haroun, whose whole thoughts were
upon the bankrupt condition of Yussuf, and who was anxious to know how
he had got on after the fetva had been promulgated, sent for his vizier,
Giaffar. "I wish to ascertain," said the caliph to the vizier, "if the
unlucky Yussuf has managed to provide for his bacchanalian revels
to-night?"

"There can be no doubt, O vice-regent of the Prophet," replied Giaffar,
"that the young man is seated in the dark, in a most dismal mood,
without either wine or kabob, or aught to comfort him."

"Send for Mesrour, then; we will again resume our disguises, and pay him
a visit."

"Let the humblest of your slaves," interposed Giaffar, in a great
fright, "represent at the footstool of your highness a true picture of
what we may anticipate. Doubtless this lion-slayer of Shitan, being
famished, will not forget our prophecy, and ascribing its fulfilment to
our bad omens, will, in his mood, sacrifice us to his empty stomach.

"Your wisdom is great, Giaffar," replied the caliph; "the man is truly a
savage, and doubtless will rage with hunger, nevertheless, we will go
and see in what state he may be."

Giaffar trembled at the idea of being subjected to the wrath of such a
fellow as Yussuf, but made no reply. He went for Mesrour and the
dresses, and having put them on, they all three issued forth from the
private gate of the seraglio. They had nearly reached the end of the
narrow lane in which Yussuf's house was situated, when the strong
reflection of the lights from the windows told them that, at all events,
he was not lamenting his hard fate in darkness; and as they approached,
the sound of his jovial voice proved also that it was neither in silence
that he submitted to his destiny. As they came under the window, he
ceased singing, and ejaculated a loud curse upon all Moussul merchants,
wishing that he might only see them once again before the devil had
them. The caliph laughed at this pious wish, and taking up a handful of
pebbles, threw them at the jalousies of Yussuf's windows.

"Who the devil is there?" roared the water-carrier; "is it you, ye
bankrupt vagabonds, who have annoyed me? Begone, or by the sword of the
Prophet, I'll impale you all three on my broomstick."

"Dost thou not know us, Yussuf?" replied the caliph; "we are your
fr