occasion to come down into the square in which was his lodging.  It happened to be the fourteenth night of the moon, when she shone uncommonly bright, and shed such a lustre upon the ground, that the bang-eater from the dizziness of his head mistook the bright undulations of her reflection on the pavement for water, and fancied he was upon the brink of the river.  He returned to his chamber, and brought down his line, supposing that he should catch his usual prey.

The bang-eater threw out his line, made of strong cord, and baited on several hooks with bits of flesh, into the square, when a dog, allured by the scent, swallowed one of the pieces, and feeling pain from the hook which stuck in his throat, pulled strongly at the cord.  The bang-eater, supposing he had caught a monstrous fish, lugged stoutly, but in vain.  The dog, agonized by the hook, resisted; at the same time yelping hideously, when the bang-eater, unwilling to quit his prey, yet fearing he should be dragged into the imaginary river, bellowed aloud for help.  The watch came up, seized him, and perceiving him intoxicated, carried him bound to the cauzee.

It happened that the cauzee often privately indulged himself with bang.  Seeing the intoxicated situation of the fisherman, he pitied his condition, and ordered him to be put into a chamber to sleep off his disorder; at the same time saying to himself, “This is a man after my own heart, and to-morrow evening I will enjoy myself with him.”  The fisherman was well taken care of during the day, and at night the cauzee sent for him to his apartment; where, after eating, they took each a powerful dose of bang, which soon operating upon their brains, they began to sing, dance, and commit a thousand extravagancies.

The noise which they made attracted the notice of the sultan, who with his vizier was traversing the city, disguised as merchants.  Finding the doors open, they entered, and beheld the cauzee and his companion in the height of their mirth, who welcomed them, and they sat down.  At length, after many ridiculous tricks, the fisherman starting up, exclaimed, “I am the sultan!” “And I,” rejoined the cauzee, “am my lord the bashaw!” “Bashaw!” continued the fisherman, “if I choose I can strike off thy head.”  “I know it,” returned the cauzee, “but at present I am not worth beheading; give me first a rich government, that I may be worth punishing.”  “Thou sayest true,” answered the fisherman; “I must make thee fat before thou wilt be fit for killing.”

The sultan laughed at their extravagancies, and said to his vizier, “I will amuse myself with these vagabonds to-morrow evening:”  then rising up, he and his minister departed.