me; and I assure you I shall have them in perpetual remembrance; for, sir, to let you know, I have nothing but what I obtain from the generosity of such gentlemen as you:  in which respect, I am like to Zantout, who rubs the people in the baths; to Sali, who cries boiled peas in the streets; to Salout, who sells beans; to Akerscha, who sells greens; to Aboumecarez, who sprinkles the streets to lay the dust; and to Cassem, the caliph’s lifeguard man.  Of all these persons, not one is apt so be melancholy; they are neither impertinent nor quarrelsome; they are more contented with their lot, than the caliph in the midst of his court; they are always gay, ready to sing and dance, and have each of them their peculiar song and dance, with which they divert the city of Bagdad; but what I esteem most in them is, that they are no great talkers, any more than your slave, that has bow the honour to speak to you.  Here, sir, is the song and dance of Zantout, who rubs the people in the baths; mind me, pray, and see if I do not imitate it exactly.”

The barber sung the song, and danced the dance of Zantout; and let me say what I could to oblige him to finish his buffooneries, he did not cease till he had imitated, in like manner, the songs and dances of the other persons he had named.  “After that,” addressing himself to me, “I am going,” said he, “to invite all these honest men to my house; if you will take my advice you will join us, and disappoint your friends, who perhaps are great talkers.  They will only teaze you to death with their impertinent discourse, and make you relapse into a disorder worse than that from which you are so lately recovered; whereas at my house you shall have nothing but pleasure.”

Notwithstanding my anger, I could not forbear laughing at the fellow’s impertinence.  “I wish I had no business upon my hands,” I replied, “I would accept your invitation, and go with all my heart to partake of your entertainment; but I beg to be excused, I am too much engaged; another day I shall be more at leisure, and then we will make up the same party.  Come, finish shaving me, and make haste home; perhaps your friends are already arrived at your house.”  “Sir,” replied he, “do not refuse me the favour I ask of you; were you but once in our company, it would afford you so much pleasure as abundantly to compensate you for forsaking your friends.”  “Let us talk no more of that,” said I; “I cannot be your guest.”

I found I gained no ground by mild terms.  “Since you will not come to my house,” replied the barber, “you must allow me to go along with you:  I will carry these things to my house, where my friends may eat of them if they like, and I will return immediately; I would not be so uncivil as to leave you alone.  You deserve this piece of complaisance at my hands.”  “Heavens!” cried I, “then I shall not get clear of this troublesome fellow to-day.  In the name of the living God, leave off your unreasonable jargon; go to your friends,