the khalíf. At the time I composed it I could not procure a piece of paper on which to write it, and could find nothing but a fragment of a marble column left me by my father; so I engraved it upon that, and it lies in the courtyard of the palace." He had brought it, wrapped up, on the back of a camel. The king, to fulfil his promise, was obliged to exhaust his treasury; and, to prevent a repetition of this trick, in future rewarded poets according to the custom of kings.

Apropos of royal gifts to poets, it is related that, when the Afghans had possession of Persia, a rude chief of that nation was governor of Shíráz. A poet composed a panegyric on his wisdom, his valour, and his virtues. As he was taking it to the palace he was met by a friend at the outer gate, who inquired where he was going, and he informed him of his purpose. His friend asked him if he was insane, to offer an ode to a barbarian who hardly understood a word of the Persian language. 'All that you say may be very true," said the poor poet, “but I am starving, and have no means of livelihood but by making verses. I must, therefore, proceed." He went and stood before the governor with his ode in his hand. "Who is that fellow?" said the

Afghan lord. And what is that paper which he holds ?" "I am a poet," answered the man, “and this paper contains some poetry." What is the use of poetry?" demanded the governor. "To render

great men like you immortal," he replied, making at the same time a profound bow. “Let us hear some of it." The poet, on this mandate, began reading his composition aloud, but he had not finished the second stanza when he was interrupted. "Enough!" exclaimed the governor; "I understand it all. Give the poor man some money—that is what he wants.” As the poet retired he met his friend, who again commented on the folly of carrying odes to a man who did not understand one of them. “Not understand!" he replied. "You are quite mistaken. He has beyond all men the quickest apprehension of a poet's meaning!"

The khalífs were frequently lavish of their gifts to poets, but they were fond of having their little jokes with them when in merry mood. One day the Arabian poet Thálebí read before the khalíf Al-Mansúr a poem which he had just composed, and it found acceptance. The khalif said: "O Thálebí, which wouldst thou rather have that I give thee 300 gold dínars [about £150], or three wise sayings, each worth 100 dínars?" The poet replied: "Learning, O Commander of the Faithful, is better than transitory treasure." "Well, then,” said the khalíf, "the first saying is: When thy garment grows old, sew not a new patch on it, for it hath an ill look." "O woe!" cried the poet, "one hundred dínars are lost!" Mansúr smiled, and proceeded: "The second saying is: When thou anointest thy beard, anoint not the lower part, for that would

soil the collar of thy vest."

"Alas!" exclaimed

Thálebí, "a thousand times, alas! two hundred dínars are lost!" Again the khalíf smiled, and continued: "The third saying"-but before he had spoken it, the poet said: "O khalíf of our prosperity, keep the third maxim in thy treasury, and give me the remaining hundred dínars, for they will be worth a thousand times more to me than the hearing of maxims." At this the khalíf laughed heartily, and commanded his treasurer to give Thálebí five hundred dínars of gold.

A droll story is told of the Persian poet Anwarí : Passing the market-place of Balkh one day, he saw a crowd of people standing in a ring, and going up, he put his head within the circle and found a fellow reciting the poems of Anwarí himself as his own. Anwari went up to the man, and said: "Sir, whose poems are these you are reciting?" He replied: "They are Anwari's." "Do you know him, then?" said Anwari. The man, with cool effrontery, answered: "What do you say? I am Anwarí." On hearing this Anwarí laughed, and remarked: "I have heard of one who stole poetry, but never of one who stole the poet himself!"-Talking of "stealing poetry," Jámí tells us that a man once brought a composition to a critic, every line of which he had plagiarised from different collections of poems, and each rhetorical figure from various authors. Quoth the critic: "For a wonder, thou hast brought a line of camels; but if the string were untied, every one of the herd would run away in different directions."

There is no little humour in the story of the Persian poet who wrote a eulogium on a rich man, but got nothing for his trouble; he then abused the rich man, but he said nothing; he next seated himself at the rich man's gate, who said to him: "You praised me, and I said nothing; you abused me, and I said nothing; and now, why are you sitting here?" The poet answered: "I only wish that when you die I may perform the funeral service."

V

UNLUCKY OMENS-THE OLD MAN'S PRAYER-THE OLD WOMAN IN THE MOSQUE-THE WEEPING TURKMANS THE TEN FOOLISH PEASANTS --THE WAKEFUL SERVANT-THE THREE DERVISHES-THE OILMAN'S PARROT THE MOGHUL AND HIS PARROT THE PERSIAN SHOPKEEPER AND THE PRIME MINISTER-HEBREW FACETIÆ.

MUSLIMS and other Asiatic peoples, like Europeans not so many centuries since, are always on the watch for lucky or unlucky omens. On first going out of a morning, the looks and countenances of those who cross their path are scrutinised, and a smile or a frown is deemed favourable or the reverse. To encounter a person blind of the left eye, or even with one eye, forebodes sorrow and calamity. While Sir John Malcolm was in Persia, as British Ambassador, he was told the following story: When Abbas the Great was hunting, he met one morning as day dawned an uncommonly ugly man, at the sight of whom his horse started. Being nearly dismounted, and deeming it a bad omen, the king called out in a rage

to have his head cut off. The poor peasant, whom the attendants had seized and were on the point of executing, prayed that he might be informed of his crime. "Your crime," said the king, "is your unlucky countenance, which is the first object I saw this morning, and which has nearly caused me to fall from my horse." "Alas!" said the man, "by this reckoning what term must I apply to your Majesty's countenance, which was the first object my eyes met this morning, and which is to cause my death?" The king smiled at the wit of the reply, ordered the man to be released, and gave him a present instead of cutting off his head.-Another Persian story is to the same purpose: A man said to his servant: If you see two crows together early in the morning, apprise me of it, that I may also behold them, as it will be a good omen, whereby I shall pass the day pleasantly." The servant did happen to see two crows sitting in one place, and informed his master, who, however, when he came saw but one, the other having in the meantime flown away. He was very angry, and began to beat the servant, when a friend sent him a present of game. Upon this the servant exclaimed: "O my lord! you saw only one crow, and have received a fine present; had you seen two, you would have met with my fare."1

1 This last jest reappears in the apocryphal Life of Esop, by Planudes, the only difference being that Esop's master is invited to a feast, instead of receiving a present of game, upon which Esop exclaims: "Alas! I see two crows, and I am beaten; you see one, and are asked to a feast. What a delusion is augury!"