in his torn black
petticoat. He ventured to approach the man and put a question. The
priest unveiled his face a moment and was going to speak, but
recollection of his sorrow overcame him. Hiding his face again, he
wailed:

'"Alas, my little grandson! My pretty little grandson! Ah, would that
thou hadst lived to bury me, my little grandson!"

'A woman sitting near plucked at the stranger's sleeve and said:

'"You see that girl. She will be soon full-grown. A year or two, and
she will certainly be married. Another year, and she will have a
little son. Her little son grows big enough to run about. His father
made for him a pair of small red shoes. He came down to the spring to
play with other children. You see that pear tree? On a day like
this--a pleasant afternoon--he clambered up it, and from that bough,
which overhangs the fountain, he fell and broke his little neck upon
those stones. Alas, our little neighbour! Oh, would that thou had
lived to bury us, our little neighbour!" And everyone began to rock
and wail anew.

'The stranger stood and looked upon them for a moment, then he
shouted: "Tfu 'aleykum!"[6] and spat upon the ground. No other word
did he vouchsafe to them, but walked away; and he continued walking
till he reached his native home. There, sitting in his ancient seat,
he told his wife:

'"Take comfort, O beloved! I have found one filthier."'

Suleyman declared the story finished.

'Is there a moral to it?' asked Rashid.

'The moral is self-evident,' replied the story-teller. 'It is this:
however bad the woman whom one happens to possess may be, be certain
it is always possible to find a worse.'

'It is also possible to find a better,' I suggested.

'Be not so sure of that!' said Suleyman. 'There are three several
kinds of women in the world, who all make claim to be descended from
our father Noah. But the truth is this: Our father Noah had one
daughter only, and three men desired her; so not to disappoint the
other two, he turned his donkey and his dog into two girls, whom he
presented to them, and that accounts for the three kinds of women now
to be observed. The true descendants of our father Noah are very
rare.'

'How may one know them from the others?' I inquired.

'By one thing only. They will keep your secret. The second sort of
woman will reveal your secret to a friend; the third will make of it a
tale against you. And this they do instinctively, as dogs will bark or
asses bray, wi