ng effort to keep himself in hand, "to have formed some plan
for marrying me to a King's daughter. May I ask you for full
particulars?"

"No honour and advancement can be in excess of thy deserts," answered
the Jinnee.

"Very kind of you to say so--but you are probably unaware that, as
society is constituted at the present time, the objections to such an
alliance would be quite insuperable."

"For me," said the Jinnee, "few obstacles are insuperable. But speak thy
mind freely."

"I will," said Horace. "To begin with, no European Princess of the Blood
Royal would entertain the idea for a moment. And if she did, she would
forfeit her rank and cease to be a Princess, and I should probably be
imprisoned in a fortress for _lese majeste_ or something."

"Dismiss thy fears, for I do not propose to unite thee to any Princess
that is born of mortals. The bride I intend for thee is a Jinneeyeh; the
peerless Bedeea-el-Jemal, daughter of my kinsman Shahyal, the Ruler of
the Blue Jann."

"Oh, is she, though?" said Horace, blankly. "I'm exceedingly obliged,
but, whatever may be the lady's attractions----"

"Her nose," recited the Jinnee, with enthusiasm, "is like unto the keen
edge of a polished sword; her hair resembleth jewels, and her cheeks are
ruddy as wine. She hath heavy lips, and when she looketh aside she
putteth to shame the wild cows...."

"My good, excellent friend," said Horace, by no means impressed by this
catalogue of charms, "one doesn't marry to mortify wild cows."

"When she walketh with a vacillating gait," continued Fakrash, as though
he had not been interrupted, "the willow branch itself turneth green
with envy."

"Personally," said Horace, "a waddle doesn't strike me as particularly
fascinating--it's quite a matter of taste. Do you happen to have seen
this enchantress lately?"

"My eyes have not been refreshed by her manifold beauties since I was
enclosed by Suleyman--whose name be accursed--in the brass bottle of
which thou knowest. Why dost thou ask?"

"Merely because it occurred to me that, after very nearly three thousand
years, your charming kinswoman may--well, to put it as mildly as
possible, not have altogether escaped the usual effects of Time. I mean,
she must be getting on, you know!"

"O, silly-bearded one!" said the Jinnee, in half-scornful rebuke; "art
thou, then, ignorant that we of the Jinn are not as mortals, that we
should feel the ravages of age?"

"Forgive me if I'm person