FOOTNOTES: 

[Footnote 2:  “Such is the lost of the beautiful upon earth.”—­Wallenstein’s Tod.]

TALES OF THE KHOJA.[3]

(Adapted from the Turkish.)

INTRODUCTION.

“O my children!” said the story-teller, “do you indeed desire amusement by the words of my lips?  Then shut your mouths, that the noise you make may be abated, and I may hear myself speak; and open your ears, that you may be entertained by the tales that I shall tell you.  Shut your mouths and open your ears, I say, and you will, without doubt, receive pleasure from what I shall have to relate of Khoja Nasr-ed-Deen-Effendi.

“This Khoja was not altogether a wise man, nor precisely a fool, nor entirely a knave.

“It is true, O children, that his wisdom was flecked with folly, but what saith the proverb?  ‘No one so wise but he has some folly to spare.’  Moreover, in his foolishness there was often a hidden meaning, as a letter is hid in a basket of dates—­not for every eye.

“As to his knaveries, they were few, and more humorous than injurious.  Though be it far from me, O children, as a man of years and probity, to defend the conduct of the Khoja to the Jew money-lender.

“What about the Jew money-lender, do you ask?

“This is the tale.”

Tale 1.—­The Khoja and the Nine Hundred and Ninety-nine Pieces of Gold.

This Khoja was very poor.

One day, wishing for a piece of gold, he corrected himself, saying:  “It costs no more to wish for a thousand pieces than for one.  I wish for a thousand gold pieces.”

And he repeated aloud—­“I wish for a thousand pieces of gold. I would not accept one less.”

Now it so happened that he was overheard by a certain covetous Jew money-lender.  This man was of a malicious disposition; and the poverty of the Khoja was a satisfaction to him.  When he heard what the Khoja said he chuckled to himself, saying, “Truly this Khoja is a funny fellow, and it would be a droll thing to see him refuse nine hundred and ninety-nine pieces of gold.  For without doubt he would keep his word.”

And as he spoke, the Jew put nine hundred and ninety-nine gold pieces into a purse, and dropped the purse down the Khoja’s chimney, with the intention of giving him annoyance.

The Khoja picked up the purse and opened it.

“Allah be praised!” he cried, “for the fulfilment of my desires.  Here are the thousand pieces.”

Meanwhile the Jew was listening at the chimney-top, and he heard the Khoja begin to count the coins.  When he got to the nine hundred and ninety-ninth, and had satisfied himself that there was not another, he paused, and the Jew merchant held his breath.

At last the Khoja spoke.

“O my soul!” said he, “is it decent to spit in the face of good fortune for the sake of one gold piece in a thousand?  Without doubt it is an oversight, and he who sent these will send the missing one also.”  Saying which, the Khoja put the money into his sash and sat down to smoke.