night in the streets of the
city, his majesty, next morning, was glad to accept some bread and
milk offered to him by a poor old woman who took pity on him. He stood
at a street corner not knowing what to do. Little children teased him;
others took him for a beggar and offered him money. Later in the day
he saw the genii ride through the streets on his horse. All the people
bowed down before him and cried, "Long live the king!"

"Woe is me," cried Hagag, in his wretchedness. "I am punished for my
sin in scoffing at the words of the Holy Book."

He saw that it would be useless for him to go to the palace again, and
he went into the fields and tried to earn his bread as a laborer. He
was not used to work, however, and but for the kindness of the very
poorest he would have died of starvation. He wandered miserably from
place to place until he fell in with some blind beggars who had been
deserted by their guide. Joyfully he accepted their offer to take the
guide's place.

Months rolled by, and one morning the royal heralds went forth and
announced that "Good King Hagag" would give a feast a week from that
day to all the beggars in the land.

From far and near came beggars in hundreds, to partake of the king's
bounty, and Hagag stood among them, with his blind companions, in the
courtyard of the palace waiting for his majesty to appear. He knew the
place well, and he hung his head and wept.

"His majesty will speak to each one of you who are his guests today,"
cried a herald, and one by one they passed into the palace and stood
before the throne. When it came to Hagag's turn, he trembled so much
that he had to be supported by the guards.

The genii on the throne and Hagag looked long at each other.

"Art thou, too, a beggar?" said the genii.

"Nay, gracious majesty," answered Hagag with bent head. "I have sinned
grievously and have been punished. I am but the servant of a troop of
blind beggars to whom I act as guide."

The genii king signed to his courtiers that he desired to be left
alone with Hagag. Then he said:

"Hagag, I know thee. I see that thou hast repented. It is well. Now
canst thou resume thy rightful place."

"Gracious majesty," said Hagag, "I have learned humility and wisdom.
The throne is not for me. The blind beggars need me. Let me remain in
their service."

"It cannot be," said the genii. "I see that thou art truly penitent.
Thy lesson is learned and my task is done. I will see that the blin