The story’s point he never knew,
    Who never felt the burning glue!

Monsoor, who has just been to Damascus, says that if he can have another pipe, and a cup of Arab coffee, he will tell the story of the famous Jew Rufaiel of Damascus.  So he begins: 

The story of Rufaiel, the rich Jew of Damascus, and the Moslem Dervish.

Once there lived in Damascus a rich Jew named Rufaiel.  He had great wealth in marble palaces and rich silk robes, and well stored bazaars, and his wife and daughters were clad in velvets and satins, in gold and precious stones.  He had also great wit and cunning, and often helped his fellow Jews out of their troubles.  Now the Pasha of Damascus was a Mohammedan, who had a superstitious fear of the holy Moslem Dervishes, and they could persuade him to tax and oppress the Jews in the most cruel manner.  In those days there came to Damascus a holy Dervish who had long, uncombed black hair, and although he was a vile and wicked man, he made the people believe that he was a holy saint, and could perform wonderful miracles.  The Pasha held him in great reverence, and invited him often to dinner, and when he came in, he would stoop and kiss the Dervish’s feet!  And what was most wonderful of all, the Dervish left Damascus every Thursday night after bidding the Pasha farewell, and journeyed to Mecca and returned in the morning and told the Pasha all the Mecca news and what he had seen and heard.  This he did every week, though all wise men laughed at him, and said he only went out of the City Gate and slept in the gardens of Damascus!

Now the Dervish was a great enemy of the Jews.  He hated them, cursed them, spat upon them, and called them infidel dogs, and he persuaded the Pasha to increase their taxes fourfold.  Their sufferings now became very great.  They had to sell their houses and furniture to pay the heavy taxes, and many were beaten and thrust into prison.  So the leading Jews in their distress came to Rufaiel, and begged him to go to the Pasha and obtain relief for them and their families.  He said he would think about the matter.  So after they had gone, he called the chief jeweller and pipe maker of the city, and ordered them to make a long pipe of exquisite workmanship, with a stem of rosewood carved and inlaid with pearls, a bowl of pure gold set with diamonds, and a mouth-piece of gold and amber.  Then he went one day to call on the Pasha, and made him a present of this elegant pipe, the like of which had never been seen in Damascus.  The Pasha was greatly pleased and ordered all in his presence to retire that he might enjoy the society of Rufaiel, the munificent Jew.  Then Rufaiel turned to the Pasha and said, “may your Excellency live forever!  I have brought you this pipe as a faint token of my high esteem and affection, but I am filled with deepest sorrow that it is not perfect.”  “Not perfect?” said the Pasha.  “In what respect could it be more perfect than what it