By and by his neighbours came and stood at his head, and having observed him, they brought a bier and laid him on it, saying, “Let us take him to his own house.”

Now in the way thither there was in the road a boggy place, which it was difficult to pass, and the bearers of the bier stood still and consulted, saying, “Which way shall we go?”

And they hesitated so long that the Khoja, becoming impatient, raised his head from the bier, and said, “That’s the way I used to go myself, when I was alive.”

Tale 26.—­The Two Moons.

On a certain day when the Khoja went to Sur-Hissar he saw a group of persons looking at the new moon.

“What extraordinary people the men of this place must be!” said he, “In our country the moon may be seen as large as a plate, and no one troubles his head about it, and here people stare at it when it is only a quarter the size.”

Tale 27.—­The Khoja Preaching.

One of the Khoja’s duties—­as a religious teacher—­was to preach to the people.  But once upon a time he became very lazy about this, and was always seeking an excuse to shorten or omit his sermons.

On a certain day about this time he mounted into the pulpit, and looking down on the congregation assembled to listen to him, he stretched forth his hands and cried, “Ah, Believers! what shall I say to you?”

And the men beat upon their breasts, and replied with one voice, “We do not know, most holy Khoja! we do not know.”

“Oh, if you don’t know—­” said the Khoja indignantly, and gathering his robe about him, he quitted the pulpit without another word.

The men looked at each other in dismay, for the Khoja was a very popular preacher.

[Illustration:  THE KHOJA PREACHES.]

“We have done wrong,” said they, “though we know not how; without doubt our ignorance is an offence to his learning.  Wherefore, if he comes again, whatever he says to us we will seem as if we knew all about it.”

The following week the Khoja got again into the pulpit, from which he could see a larger assembly than before.

“O ye Muslims!” he began, “what am I to say—­”

But before the words were fairly out of his mouth the congregation cried out with one voice, “We know, good Khoja!  We know!”

“Oh, if you know—­” said the Khoja sarcastically, and shrugging his shoulders, and lifting his eyebrows, he left the place as one who feels that he can be of no further use.

“This is worse than before,” said the Muslims in despair.  But after a while they took counsel, and said, “Let him come once more, and we will not lose our sermon this time.  If he asks the same question we will reply that some of us know, but that some of us do not know.”

So when the Khoja next appeared before the congregation, and after he had cried as before, “O Brethren! do ye know what I am about to say?” they answered, “Some of us know, but some of us do not know.”