mpart unto thee. Thou art going to the great city
to learn the ways of the world, to train thyself in self-reliance, and
to prepare thyself for all the duties of manhood."

The youth was somewhat disappointed to hear this. It was the first
occasion, as far as his memory served him, that his father had failed
to grant his wish; but he was nevertheless flattered by the prospect
of quickly becoming a man, and he answered, "I bow to thy wisdom, my
father."

He left for Jerusalem, after bidding the merchant an affectionate
farewell, and in the Holy City he applied himself diligently to his
studies. He delighted his teachers with his cheerful attention to his
lessons, and discovered a new source of happiness in learning things
for himself from observation. Also, it was a pleasant sensation to
conduct his own affairs, and in the great city, with its busy narrow
thoroughfares and its wonderful buildings, he daily grew less
homesick. Regularly he received letters by messengers from his father,
and dutifully he returned, by the same means, long epistles, setting
out all the big and little things that made up his life.

A year passed, and one day the usual message that Ahmed expected came
to him in a strange hand-writing.

He opened it hastily, with a foreboding of evil and alarm. The writer
of the letter was one of the merchant's closest friends. He said:

"O worthy son of a most worthy father, greeting to thee, and may God
give thee strength to hear the terrible and sad tidings which it is my
sorrowful duty to convey unto thee. Know then that it hath pleased
God in his wisdom to call from this earth thy saintly father, to sit
with the righteous ones in Heaven. Here in the city of Damascus there
is great weeping, for thy honored father was the most upright of men,
a friend to all in distress, a man whose bounteous charity to the poor
and unfortunate was unsurpassed. But our grief, deep and heartfelt as
it is, cannot be compared to thine. We have all lost a wise counselor,
a trusty friend, a guide in all things. But thou hast lost more. Thou
hast lost a father. Thou art his only son, and on thee his duties will
now devolve. Know then thy profound grief we share with thee. We
tender to thee our sincere sympathy, and eagerly do we await thy
coming. Thou hast a noble position to occupy and a tradition to
continue. We, thy father's friends and thine, O Ahmed, will assist
thee."

The young man was dumbfounded when he gathered th