hast grown by the breadth of a finger, O turtle, eat
further of this melon, or of its sister, another melon, and grow
further by the breadth of a finger until thou hast reached the size of
a mosque. Thou thyself art a miracle, O shell endowed with life!
Perform still another miracle, if Allah permit, if Allah permit!_"

Zobeide, reassured by the monotony of his voice, decided at last to
come out of her shell. First she showed the point of her little horny
nose, then her black eyes, her flat-pointed tail, and finally her
strong little claw-tipped feet. Seeing the melon, she made a gesture of
assent, and began to eat.

"Nothing in the world will happen!" remarked the Rev. John Feathercock
rather doubtfully.

"Wait and see," answered Mohammed gravely. "I shall come back
to-morrow!"

The next morning he returned, measured Zobeide with his fingers and
declared:

"She has grown!"

"Do you imagine you can make me believe such a thing?" cried Mr.
Feathercock anxiously.

"It is written in the Koran," answered Mohammed: "'I swear by the rosy
glow which fills the air when the sun is setting, by the shades of the
night, and by the light of the moon, that ye shall all change, in
substance and in size!' Allah has manifested himself; the size of this
turtle has changed. It will continue to change. Measure it yourself and
you will see."

Mr. Feathercock did measure Zobeide, and was forced to admit that she
had indeed grown the breadth of a finger. He became thoughtful.

Thus day by day Zobeide grew in size, in vigor and in appetite. At
first she had only been as big as a saucer, and took each day but a few
ounces of nourishment. Then she reached the size of a dessert plate,
then of a soup plate. With her strong beak she could split the rind of
a melon at a blow; distinctly could be heard the sound of her heavy
jaws as she crunched the sweet pulp of the fruits which she loved, and
which she devoured in great quantities. In one week she had grown so
tremendously that she was as big as a meat platter. The Rev. Mr.
Feathercock no longer dared to go near this monster, from whose eyes
seemed to glisten a look of deviltry. And, always and forever,
apparently devoured by a perpetual hunger, the monster ate.

The members of Mr. Feathercock's flock came to hear that he was keeping
in his house a turtle that had been enchanted in the name of Allah and
not by the power of the Occidental Divinity: this proved to be anything
but helpfu