The Khoja looked out from an upper window.

“What dost thou want?” said he.  But the man was a beggar by trade, and fearing that the Khoja might refuse to give alms when he was so well beyond reach of the mendicant’s importunities, he would not state his business, but continued to cry, “Come down, come down!” as if he had something of importance to relate.

So the Khoja went down, and on his again saying “What dost thou want?” the beggar began to beg, crying, “The Inciter of Compassion move thee to enable me to purchase food for my supper!  I am the guest of the Prophet!” with other exclamations of a like nature.

“Come up-stairs,” replied the Khoja, turning back into his house.

Well pleased, the beggar followed him, but when they reached the upper room the Khoja turned round and dismissed him, saying, “Heaven supply your necessities.  I have nothing for you.”

“O Effendi!” said the beggar, “why did you not tell me this whilst I was below?”

“O Beggar!” replied the Khoja, “why did you call me down when I was up-stairs?”

Tale 15.—­The Khoja Turned Nightingale.

One day the Khoja went into a garden which did not belong to him, and seeing an apricot-tree laden with delicious fruit, he climbed up among the branches and began to help himself.

Whilst he was eating the apricots the owner of the garden came in and discovered him.

“What are you doing up there, Khoja?” said he.

“O my soul!” said the Khoja, “I am not the person you imagine me to be.  Do you not see that I am a nightingale?  I am singing in the apricot-tree.”

“Let me hear you sing,” said the gardener.

The Khoja began to trill like a bird; but the noise he made was so uncouth that the man burst out laughing.

“What kind of a song is this?” said he.  “I never heard a nightingale’s note like that before.”

[Illustration:  THE KHOJA SINGS.]

“It is not the voice of a native songster,” said the Khoja demurely, “but the foreign nightingale sings so.”

Tale 16.—­The Khoja’s Donkey and The Woollen Pelisse.

One day the Khoja mounted his donkey to ride to the garden, but on the way there he had business which obliged him to dismount and leave the donkey for a short time.

When he got down he took off his woollen pelisse, and throwing it over the saddle, went about his affairs.  But he had hardly turned his back when a thief came by who stole the woollen pelisse, and made off with it.

When the Khoja returned and found that the pelisse was gone, he became greatly enraged, and beat the donkey with his stick.  Then, dragging the saddle from the poor beast’s back, he put it on his own shoulders, crying, “Find my pelisse, you careless rascal, and then you shall have your saddle again!”

Tale 17.—­A Ladder To Sell.

There was a certain garden into which the Khoja was desirous to enter, but the gate was fastened, and he could not.