Showing posts with label folktale. Show all posts
Showing posts with label folktale. Show all posts

Sunday, September 13, 2015

ALI BABA


There once lived in a town of Persia two brothers, one named Cassim and
the other Ali Baba. Their father divided a small inheritance equally
between them. Cassim married a very rich wife, and became a wealthy
merchant. Ali Baba married a woman as poor as himself, and lived by
cutting wood, and bringing it upon three asses into the town, to sell.

One day, when Ali Baba was in the forest, and had just cut wood enough
to load his asses, he saw at a distance a great cloud of dust, which
seemed to approach him. He observed it with attention, and distinguished
soon after a body of horsemen, who he suspected might be robbers. He
determined to leave his asses to save himself. He climbed up a large
tree, planted on a high rock, whose branches were thick enough to
conceal him, and yet enabled him to see all that passed without being
discovered.

The troop, who were to the number of forty, all well mounted and armed,
came to the foot of the rock on which the tree stood, and there
dismounted Every man unbridled his horse, tied him to some shrub, and
hung about his neck a bag of corn which they brought behind them. Then
each of them took off his saddle-bag, which seemed to Ali Baba to be
full of gold and silver from its weight. One, whom he took to be their
captain, came under the tree in which Ali Baba was concealed; and making
his way through some shrubs, pronounced these words: "Open, Sesame!"
[Footnote: "Sesame" is a small grain.] As soon as the captain of the
robbers had thus spoken, a door opened in the rock; and after he had
made all his troop enter before him, he followed them, when the door
shut again of itself.

The robbers stayed some time within the rock, during which Ali Baba,
fearful of being caught, remained in the tree.

At last the door opened again, and as the captain went in last, so he
came out first, and stood to see them all pass by him; when Ali Baba
heard him make the door close by pronouncing these words, "Shut,
Sesame!" Every man at once went and bridled his horse, fastened his
wallet, and mounted again. When the captain saw them all ready, he put
himself at their head, and they returned the way they had come.

Ali Baba followed them with his eyes as far as he could see them; and
afterward stayed a considerable time before he descended. Remembering
the words the captain of the robbers used to cause the door to open and
shut, he had the curiosity to try if his pronouncing them would have the
same effect. Accordingly, he went among the shrubs, and perceiving the
door concealed behind them, stood before it, and said, "Open, Sesame!"
The door instantly flew wide open.

Ali Baba, who expected a dark, dismal cavern, was surprised to see a
well-lighted and spacious chamber, which received the light from an
opening at the top of the rock, and in which were all sorts of
provisions, rich bales of silk, stuff, brocade, and valuable carpeting,
piled upon one another; gold and silver ingots in great heaps, and money
in bags. The sight of all these riches made him suppose that this cave
must have been occupied for ages by robbers, who had succeeded one
another.

Ali Baba went boldly into the cave, and collected as much of the gold
coin, which was in bags, as he thought his three asses could carry. When
he had loaded them with the bags, he laid wood over them in such a
manner that they could not be seen. When he had passed in and out as
often as he wished, he stood before the door, and pronouncing the words,
"Shut, Sesame!" the door closed of itself. He then made the best of his
way to town.

When Ali Baba got home, he drove his asses into a little yard, shut the
gates very carefully, threw off the wood that covered the panniers,
carried the bags into his house, and ranged them in order before his
wife. He then emptied the bags, which raised such a great heap of gold
as dazzled his wife's eyes, and then he told her the whole adventure
from beginning to end, and, above all, recommended her to keep it
secret.

The wife rejoiced greatly in their good fortune, and would count all the
gold piece by piece. "Wife," replied Ali Baba, "you do not know what you
undertake, when you pretend to count the money; you will never have
done. I will dig a hole, and bury it. There is no time to be lost." "You
are in the right, husband," replied she, "but let us know, as nigh as
possible, how much we have. I will borrow a small measure, and measure
it, while you dig the hole."

Away the wife ran to her brother-in-law Cassim, who lived just by, and
addressing herself to his wife, desired her to lend her a measure for a
little while. Her sister-in-law asked her whether she would have a great
or a small one. The other asked for a small one. She bade her stay a
little, and she would readily fetch one,

The sister-in-law did so, but as she knew Ali Baba's poverty, she was
curious to know what sort of grain his wife wanted to measure, and
artfully putting some suet at the bottom of the measure, brought it to
her, with an excuse that she was sorry that she had made her stay so
long, but that she could not find it sooner.

Ali Baba's wife went home, set the measure upon the heap of gold, filled
it, and emptied it often upon the sofa, till she had done, when she was
very well satisfied to find the number of measures amounted to so many
as they did, and went to tell her husband, who had almost finished
digging the hole. While Ali Baba was burying the gold, his wife, to show
her exactness and diligence to her sister-in-law, carried the measure
back again, but without taking notice that a piece of gold had stuck to
the bottom. "Sister," said she, giving it to her again, "you see that I
have not kept your measure long. I am obliged to you for it, and return
it with thanks."

As soon as Ali Baba's wife was gone, Cassim's looked at the bottom of
the measure, and was in inexpressible surprise to find a piece of gold
sticking to it. Envy immediately possessed her breast. "What!" said she,
"has Ali Baba gold so plentiful as to measure it? Whence has he all this
wealth?"

Cassim, her husband, was at his counting-house. When he came home, his
wife said to him, "Cassim, I know you think yourself rich, but Ali Baba
is infinitely richer than you. He does not count his money, but measures
it." Cassim desired her to explain the riddle, which she did, by telling
him the stratagem she had used to make the discovery, and showed him the
piece of money, which was so old that they could not tell in what
prince's reign it was coined.

Cassim, after he had married the rich widow, had never treated Ali Baba
as a brother, but neglected him; and now, instead of being pleased, he
conceived a base envy at his brother's prosperity. He could not sleep
all that night, and went to him in the morning before sunrise. "Ali
Baba," said he, "I am surprised at you; you pretend to be miserably
poor, and yet you measure gold. My wife found this at the bottom of the
measure you borrowed yesterday."

By this discourse, Ali Baba perceived that Cassim and his wife, through
his own wife's folly, knew what they had so much reason to conceal; but
what was done, could not be undone. Therefore, without showing the least
surprise or trouble, he confessed all, and offered his brother part of
his treasure to keep the secret.

"I expect as much," replied Cassim haughtily; "but I must know exactly
where this treasure is, and how I may visit it myself when I choose;
otherwise, I will go and inform against you, and then you will not only
get no more, but will lose all you have, and I shall have a share for my
information."

Ali Baba told him all he desired, even to the very words he was to use
to gain admission into the cave.

Cassim rose the next morning long before the sun, and set out for the
forest with ten mules bearing great chests, which he designed to fill,
and followed the road which Ali Baba had pointed out to him. He was not
long before he reached the rock, and found out the place, by the tree
and other marks which his brother had given him. When he reached the
entrance of the cavern, he pronounced the words, "Open, Sesame!" The
door immediately opened, and, when he was in, closed upon him. In
examining the cave, he was in great admiration to find much more riches
than he had expected from Ali Baba's relation. He quickly laid as many
bags of gold as he could carry at the door of the cavern; but his
thoughts were so full of the great riches he should possess, that he
could not think of the necessary word to make it open, but instead of
"Sesame," said, "Open, Barley!" and was much amazed to find that the
door remained fast shut. He named several sorts of grain, but still the
door would not open.

Cassim had never expected such an incident, and was so alarmed at the
danger he was in, that the more he endeavoured to remember the word
"Sesame," the more his memory was confounded, and he had as much
forgotten it as if he had never heard it mentioned. He threw down the
bags he had loaded himself with, and walked distractedly up and down the
cave, without having the least regard to the riches that were around
him.

About noon the robbers visited their cave. At some distance they saw
Cassim's mules straggling about the rock, with great chests on their
backs. Alarmed at this, they galloped full speed to the cave. They drove
away the mules, which strayed through the forest so far, that they were
soon out of sight, and went directly, with their naked sabres in their
hands, to the door, which, on their captain pronouncing the proper
words, immediately opened.

Cassim, who heard the noise of the horses' feet, at once guessed the
arrival of the robbers, and resolved to make one effort for his life. He
rushed to the door, and no sooner saw the door open, than he ran out and
threw the leader down, but could not escape the other robbers, who with
their scimitars soon deprived him of life.

The first care of the robbers after this was to examine the cave. They
found all the bags which Cassim had brought to the door, to be ready to
load his mules, and carried them again to their places, but they did not
miss what Ali Baba had taken away before. Then holding a council, and
deliberating upon this occurrence, they guessed that Cassim, when he was
in, could no get out again, but could not imagine how he had learned the
secret words by which alone he could enter. They could not deny the fact
of his being there; and to terrify any person or accomplice who should
attempt the same thing, they agreed to cut Cassim's body into four
quarters--to hang two on one side, and two on the other, within the door
of the cave. They had no sooner taken this resolution than they put it
in execution; and when they had nothing more to detain them, left the
place of their hoards well closed. They mounted their horses, went to
beat the roads again, and to attack the caravans they might meet.

In the mean time, Cassim's wife was very uneasy when night came, and her
husband was not returned. She ran to Ali Baba in great alarm, and said,
"I believe, brother-in-law, that you know Cassim is gone to the forest,
and upon what account; it is now night, and he has not returned; I am
afraid some misfortune has happened to him." Ali Baba told her that she
need not frighten herself, for that certainly Cassim would not think it
proper to come into the town till the night should be pretty far
advanced.

Cassim's wife, considering how much it concerned her husband to keep the
business secret, was the more easily persuaded to believe her
brother-in-law. She went home again, and waited patiently till midnight.
Then her fear redoubled, and her grief was the more sensible because she
was forced to keep it to herself. She repented of her foolish curiosity,
and cursed her desire of prying into the affairs of her brother and
sister-in-law. She spent all the night in weeping; and as soon as it was
day went to them, telling them, by her tears, the cause of her coming.

Ali Baba did not wait for his sister-in-law to desire him to go to see
what was become of Cassim, but departed immediately with his three
asses, begging of her first to moderate her affliction. He went to the
forest, and when he came near the rock, having seen neither his brother
nor the mules in his way, was seriously alarmed at finding some blood
spilt near the door, which he took for an ill omen; but when he had
pronounced the word, and the door had opened, he was struck with horror
at the dismal sight of his brother's body. He was not long in
determining how he should pay the last dues to his brother; but without
adverting to the little fraternal affection he had shown for him, went
into the cave, to find something to enshroud his remains; and having
loaded one of his asses with them, covered them over with wood. The
other two asses he loaded with bags of gold, covering them with wood
also as before; and then bidding the door shut, came away; but was so
cautious as to stop some time at the end of the forest, that he might
not go into the town before night. When he came home, he drove the two
asses loaded with gold into his little yard, and left the care of
unloading them to his wife, while he led the other to his
sister-in-law's house.

Ali Baba knocked at the door, which was opened by Morgiana, a clever,
intelligent slave, who was fruitful in inventions to meet the most
difficult circumstances. When he came into the court, he unloaded the
ass, and taking Morgiana aside, said to her, "You must observe an
inviolable secrecy. Your master's body is contained in these two
panniers. We must bury him as if he had died a natural death. Go now and
tell your mistress. I leave the matter to your wit and skilful devices."




Ali Baba helped to place the body in Cassim's house, again recommended
to Morgiana to act her part well, and then returned with his ass.

Morgiana went out early the next morning to a druggist, and asked for a
sort of lozenge which was considered efficacious in the most dangerous
disorders. The apothecary inquired who was ill? She replied, with a
sigh, "Her good master Cassim himself: and that he could neither eat nor
speak." In the evening Morgiana went to the same druggist's again, and
with tears in her eyes, asked for an essence which they used to give to
sick people only when at the last extremity. "Alas!" said she, taking it
from the apothecary, "I am afraid that this remedy will have no better
effect than the lozenges; and that I shall lose my good master."

On the other hand, as Ali Baba and his wife were often seen to go
between Cassim's and their own house all that day, and to seem
melancholy, nobody was surprised in the evening to hear the lamentable
shrieks and cries of Cassim's wife and Morgiana, who gave out everywhere
that her master was dead. The next morning at daybreak Morgiana went to
an old cobbler whom she knew to be always early at his stall, and
bidding him good-morrow, put a piece of gold into his hand, saying,
"Baba Mustapha, you must bring with you your sewing tackle, and come
with me; but I must tell you, I shall blindfold you when you come to
such a place."

Baba Mustapha seemed to hesitate a little at these words. "Oh! oh!"
replied he, "you would have me do something against my conscience, or
against my honour?" "God forbid," said Morgiana, putting another piece
of gold into his hand, "that I should ask anything that is contrary to
your honour! only come along with me and fear nothing."

Baba Mustapha went with Morgiana, who, after she had bound his eyes with
a handkerchief at the place she had mentioned, conveyed him to her
deceased master's house, and never unloosed his eyes till he had entered
the room where she had put the corpse together. "Baba Mustapha," said
she, "you must make haste and sew the parts of this body together; and
when you have done, I will give you another piece of gold."

After Baba Mustapha had finished his task, she blindfolded him again,
gave him the third piece of gold as she had promised, and recommending
secrecy to him carried him back to the place where she first bound his
eyes, pulled off the bandage, and let him go home, but watched him that
he returned toward his stall, till he was quite out of sight, for fear
he should have the curiosity to return and dodge her; she then went
home. Morgiana, on her return, warmed some water to wash the body, and
at the same time Ali Baba perfumed it with incense, and wrapped it in
the burying clothes with the accustomed ceremonies. Not long after the
proper officer brought the bier, and when the attendants of the mosque,
whose business it was to wash the dead, offered to perform their duty,
she told them that it was done already. Shortly after this the imaun and
the other ministers of the mosque arrived. Four neighbours carried the
corpse to the burying-ground, following the imaun, who recited some
prayers. Ali Baba came after with some neighbours, who often relieved
the others in carrying the bier to the burying-ground. Morgiana, a slave
to the deceased, followed in the procession, weeping, beating her
breast, and tearing her hair. Cassim's wife stayed at home mourning,
uttering lamentable cries with the women of the neighbourhood, who came,
according to custom, during the funeral, and joining their lamentations
with hers filled the quarter far and near with sounds of sorrow.

In this manner Cassim's melancholy death was concealed and hushed up
between Ali Baba, his widow, and Morgiana, his slave, with so much
contrivance that nobody in the city had the least knowledge or suspicion
of the cause of it. Three or four days after the funeral, Ali Baba
removed his few goods openly to his sister-in-law's house, in which it
was agreed that he should in future live; but the money he had taken
from the robbers he conveyed thither by night. As for Cassim's
warehouse, he entrusted it entirely to the management of his eldest son.

While these things were being done, the forty robbers again visited
their retreat in the forest. Great, then, was their surprise to find
Cassim's body taken away, with some of their bags of gold. "We are
certainly discovered," said the captain. "The removal of the body, and
the loss of some of our money, plainly shows that the man whom we killed
had an accomplice: and for our own lives' sake we must try and find him.
What say you, my lads?"

All the robbers unanimously approved of the captain's proposal.

"Well," said the captain, "one of you, the boldest and most skilful
among you, must go into the town, disguised as a traveller and a
stranger, to try if he can hear any talk of the man whom we have killed,
and endeavour to find out who he was, and where he lived. This is a
matter of the first importance, and for fear of any treachery, I propose
that whoever undertakes this business without success, even though the
failure arises only from an error of judgment, shall suffer death."

Without waiting for the sentiments of his companions, one of the robbers
started up, and said, "I submit to this condition, and think it an
honour to expose my life to serve the troop."

After this robber had received great commendations from the captain and
his comrades, he disguised himself so that nobody would take him for
what he was; and taking his leave of the troop that night, went into the
town just at daybreak; and walked up and down, till accidentally he came
to Baba Mustapha's stall, which was always open before any of the shops.

Baba Mustapha was seated with an awl in his hand, just going to work.
The robber saluted him, bidding him good-morrow; and perceiving that he
was old, said, "Honest man, you begin to work very early: is it possible
that one of your age can see so well? I question, even if it were
somewhat lighter, whether you could see to stitch."

"You do not know me," replied Baba Mustapha; "for old as I am, I have
extraordinary good eyes; and you will not doubt it when I tell you that
I sewed the body of a dead man together in a place where I had not so
much light as I have now."

"A dead body!" exclaimed the robber, with affected amazement. "Yes,
yes," answered Baba Mustapha, "I see you want to have me speak out, but
you shall know no more."

The robber felt sure that he had discovered what he sought. He pulled
out a piece of gold, and putting it into Baba Mustapha's hand, said to
him, "I do not want to learn your secret, though I can assure you you
might safely trust me with it. The only thing I desire of you is to show
me the house where you stitched up the dead body."

"If I were disposed to do you that favour," replied Baba Mustapha, "I
assure you I cannot. I was taken to a certain place, whence I was led
blindfold to the house, and afterward brought back again in the same
manner; you see, therefore, the impossibility of my doing what you
desire."

"Well," replied the robber, "you may, however, remember a little of the
way that you were led blindfold. Come, let me blind your eyes at the
same place. We will walk together; perhaps you may recognise some part;
and as everybody ought to be paid for their trouble, there is another
piece of gold for you; gratify me in what I ask you." So saying, he put
another piece of gold into his hand.

The two pieces of gold were great temptations to Baba Mustapha. He
looked at them a long time in his hand, without saying a word, but at
last he pulled out his purse and put them in. "I cannot promise," said
he to the robber, "that I can remember the way exactly; but since you
desire, I will try what I can do." At these words Baba Mustapha rose up,
to the great joy of the robber, and led him to the place where Morgiana
had bound his eyes. "It was here," said Baba Mustapha, "I was
blindfolded; and I turned this way." The robber tied his handkerchief
over his eyes, and walked by him till he stopped directly at Cassim's
house, where Ali Baba then lived. The thief, before he pulled off the
band, marked the door with a piece of chalk, which he had ready in his
hand, and then asked him if he knew whose house that was; to which Baba
Mustapha replied that as he did not live in that neighbourhood, he could
not tell.

The robber, finding he could discover no more from Baba Mustapha,
thanked him for the trouble he had taken, and left him to go back to his
stall, while he returned to the forest, persuaded that he should be very
well received.

A little after the robber and Baba Mustapha had parted, Morgiana went
out of Ali Baba's house upon some errand, and upon her return, seeing
the mark the robber had made, stopped to observe it. "What can be the
meaning of this mark?" said she to herself; "somebody intends my master
no good: however, with whatever intention it was done, it is advisable
to guard against the worst." Accordingly, she fetched a piece of chalk,
and marked two or three doors on each side, in the same manner, without
saying a word to her master or mistress.

In the mean time, the robber rejoined his troop in the forest, and
recounted to them his success; expatiating upon his good fortune, in
meeting so soon with the only person who could inform him of what he
wanted to know. All the robbers listened to him with the utmost
satisfaction; when the captain, after commending his diligence,
addressing himself to them all, said, "Comrades, we have no time to
lose: let us set off well armed, without its appearing who we are; but
that we may not excite any suspicion, let only one or two go into the
town together, and join at our rendezvous, which shall be the great
square. In the mean time, our comrade who brought us the good news and I
will go and find out the house, that we may consult what had best be
done."

This speech and plan was approved of by all, and they were soon ready.
They filed off in parties of two each, after some interval of time, and
got into the town without being in the least suspected. The captain, and
he who had visited the town in the morning as spy, came in the last. He
led the captain into the street where he had marked Ali Baba's
residence; and when they came to the first of the houses which Morgiana
had marked, he pointed it out. But the captain observed that the next
door was chalked in the same manner and in the same place; and showing
it to his guide, asked him which house it was, that, or the first. The
guide was so confounded, that he knew not what answer to make; but still
more puzzled, when he and the captain saw five or six houses similarly
marked. He assured the captain, with an oath, that he had marked but
one, and could not tell who had chalked the rest, so that he could not
distinguish the house which the cobbler had stopped at.

The captain, finding that their design had proved abortive, went
directly to the place of meeting, and told his troop that they had lost
their labour, and must return to their cave. He himself set them the
example, and they all returned as they had come.

When the troop was all got together, the captain told them the reason of
their returning; and presently the conductor was declared by all worthy
of death. He condemned himself, acknowledging that he ought to have
taken better precaution, and prepared to receive the stroke from him who
was appointed to cut off his head.

But as the safety of the troop required the discovery of the second
intruder into the cave, another of the gang, who promised himself that
he should succeed better, presented himself, and his offer being
accepted, he went and corrupted Baba Mustapha, as the other had done;
and being shown the house, marked it in a place more remote from sight,
with red chalk.

Not long after, Morgiana, whose eyes nothing could escape, went out, and
seeing the red chalk, and arguing with herself as she had done before,
marked the other neighbours' houses in the same place and manner.

The robber, at his return to his company, valued himself much on the
precaution he had taken, which he looked upon as an infallible way of
distinguishing Ali Baba's house from the others; and the captain and all
of them thought it must succeed. They conveyed themselves into the town
with the same precaution as before; but when the robber and his captain
came to the street, they found the same difficulty; at which the captain
was enraged, and the robber in as great confusion as his predecessor.

Thus the captain and his troop were forced to retire a second time, and
much more dissatisfied; while the robber who had been the author of the
mistake underwent the same punishment, to which he willingly submitted.

The captain, having lost two brave fellows of his troop, was afraid of
diminishing it too much by pursuing this plan to get information of the
residence of their plunderer. He found by their example that their heads
were not so good as their hands on such occasions; and therefore
resolved to take upon himself the important commission.

Accordingly, he went and addressed himself to Baba Mustapha, who did him
the same service he had done to the other robbers. He did not set any
particular mark on the house, but examined and observed it so carefully,
by passing often by it, that it was impossible for him to mistake it.

The captain, well satisfied with his attempt, and informed of what he
wanted to know, returned to the forest; and when he came into the cave,
where the troop waited for him, said, "Now, comrades, nothing can
prevent our full revenge, as I am certain of the house; and in my way
hither I have thought how to put it into execution, but if any one can
form a better expedient, let him communicate it." He then told them his
contrivance; and as they approved of it, ordered them to go into the
villages about, and buy nineteen mules, with thirty-eight large leather
jars, one full of oil, and the others empty.

In two or three days' time the robbers had purchased the mules and jars,
and as the mouths of the jars were rather too narrow for his purpose,
the captain caused them to be widened, and after having put one of his
men into each, with the weapons which he thought fit, leaving open the
seam which had been undone to leave them room to breathe, he rubbed the
jars on the outside with oil from the full vessel.

Things being thus prepared, when the nineteen mules were loaded with
thirty-seven robbers in jars, and the jar of oil, the captain, as their
driver, set out with them, and reached the town by the dusk of the
evening, as he had intended. He led them through the streets, till he
came to Ali Baba's, at whose door he designed to have knocked; but was
prevented by his sitting there after supper to take a little fresh air.
He stopped his mules, addressed himself to him, and said, "I have
brought some oil a great way, to sell at tomorrow's market; and it is
now so late that I do not know where to lodge. If I should not be
troublesome to you, do me the favour to let me pass the night with you,
and I shall be very much obliged by your hospitality."

Though Ali Baba had seen the captain of the robbers in the forest, and
had heard him speak, it was impossible to know him in the disguise of an
oil merchant. He told him he should be welcome, and immediately opened
his gates for the mules to go into the yard. At the same time he called
to a slave, and ordered him, when the mules were unloaded, to put them
into the stable, and to feed them; and then went to Morgiana, to bid her
get a good supper for his guest. After they had finished supper, Ali
Baba, charging Morgiana afresh to take care of his guest, said to her,
"To-morrow morning I design to go to the bath before day; take care my
bathing linen be ready, give them to Abdalla (which was the slave's
name), and make me some good broth against my return." After this he
went to bed.

In the mean time the captain of the robbers went into the yard, and took
off the lid of each jar, and gave his people orders what to do.
Beginning at the first jar, and so on to the last, he said to each man:
"As soon as I throw some stones out of the chamber window where I lie,
do not fail to come out, and I will immediately join you." After this he
returned into the house, when Morgiana, taking up a light, conducted him
to his chamber, where she left him; and he, to avoid any suspicion, put
the light out soon after, and laid himself down in his clothes, that he
might be the more ready to rise.

Morgiana, remembering Ali Baba's orders, got his bathing linen ready,
and ordered Abdalla to set on the pot for the broth; but while she was
preparing it the lamp went out, and there was no more oil in the house,
nor any candles. What to do she did not know, for the broth must be
made. Abdalla, seeing her very uneasy, said, "Do not fret and tease
yourself, but go into the yard, and take some oil out of one of the
jars."

Morgiana thanked Abdalla for his advice, took the oil-pot, and went into
the yard; when, as she came nigh the first jar, the robber within said
softly, "Is it time?"

Though naturally much surprised at finding a man in the jar instead of
the oil she wanted, she immediately felt the importance of keeping
silence, as Ali Baba, his family, and herself were in great danger; and
collecting herself, without showing the least emotion, she answered,
"Not yet, but presently." She went quietly in this manner to all the
jars, giving the same answer, till she came to the jar of oil.

By this means Morgiana found that her master Ali Baba had admitted
thirty-eight robbers into his house, and that this pretended oil
merchant was their captain. She made what haste she could to fill her
oil-pot, and returned into her kitchen, where, as soon as she had
lighted her lamp, she took a great kettle, went again to the oil-jar,
filled the kettle, set it on a large wood fire, and as soon as it boiled
went and poured enough into every jar to stifle and destroy the robber
within.

When this action, worthy of the courage of Morgiana, was executed
without any noise, as she had projected, she returned into the kitchen
with the empty kettle; and having put out the great fire she had made to
boil the oil, and leaving just enough to make the broth, put out the
lamp also, and remained silent, resolving not to go to rest till she had
observed what might follow through a window of the kitchen, which opened
into the yard.

She had not waited long before the captain of the robbers got up, opened
the window, and finding no light, and hearing no noise, or any one
stirring in the house, gave the appointed signal, by throwing little
stones, several of which hit the jars, as he doubted not by the sound
they gave. He then listened, but not hearing or perceiving anything
whereby he could judge that his companions stirred, he began to grow
very uneasy, threw stones again a second and also a third time, and
could not comprehend the reason that none of them should answer his
signal. Much alarmed, he went softly down into the yard, and going to
the first jar, while asking the robber, whom he thought alive, if he was
in readiness, smelt the hot boiled oil, which sent forth a steam out of
the jar. Hence he suspected that his plot to murder Ali Baba, and
plunder his house, was discovered. Examining all the jars, one after
another, he found that all his gang were dead; and, enraged to despair
at having failed in his design, he forced the lock of a door that led
from the yard to the garden, and climbing over the walls made his
escape.

When Morgiana saw him depart, she went to bed, satisfied and pleased to
have succeeded so well in saving her master and family.

Ali Baba rose before day, and, followed by his slave, went to the baths,
entirely ignorant of the important event which had happened at home.

When he returned from the baths, he was very much surprised to see the
oil-jars, and that the merchant was not gone with the mules. He asked
Morgiana, who opened the door, the reason of it. "My good master,"
answered she, "God preserve you and all your family. You will be better
informed of what you wish to know when you have seen what I have to show
you, if you will follow me."

As soon as Morgiana had shut the door, Ali Baba followed her, when she
requested him to look into the first jar, and see if there was any oil.
Ali Baba did so, and seeing a man, started back in alarm, and cried out.
"Do not be afraid," said Morgiana "the man you see there can neither do
you nor anybody else any harm. He is dead." "Ah, Morgiana," said Ali
Baba, "what is it you show me? Explain yourself." "I will," replied
Morgiana. "Moderate your astonishment, and do not excite the curiosity
of your neighbours; for it is of great importance to keep this affair
secret. Look into all the other jars."

Ali Baba examined all the other jars, one after another; and when he
came to that which had the oil in it, found it prodigiously sunk, and
stood for some time motionless, sometimes looking at the jars, and
sometimes at Morgiana, without saying a word, so great was his surprise.
At last, when he had recovered himself, he said, "And what is become of
the merchant?"

"Merchant!" answered she; "he is as much one as I am. I will tell you
who he is, and what is become of him; but you had better hear the story
in your own chamber; for it is time for your health that you had your
broth after your bathing."

Morgiana then told him all she had done, from the first observing the
mark upon the house, to the destruction of the robbers, and the flight
of their captain.

On hearing of these brave deeds from the lips of Morgiana, Ali Baba said
to her--"God, by your means, has delivered me from the snares these
robbers laid for my destruction. I owe, therefore, my life to you; and,
for the first token of my acknowledgment, give you your liberty from
this moment, till I can complete your recompense as I intend."

Ali Baba's garden was very long, and shaded at the further end by a
great number of large trees. Near these he and the slave Abdalla dug a
trench, long and wide enough to hold the bodies of the robbers; and as
the earth was light, they were not long in doing it. When this was done,
Ali Baba hid the jars and weapons; and as he had no occasion for the
mules, he sent them at different times to be sold in the market by his
slave.

While Ali Baba took these measures, the captain of the forty robbers
returned to the forest with inconceivable mortification. He did not stay
long; the loneliness of the gloomy cavern became frightful to him. He
determined, however, to avenge the fate of his companions, and to
accomplish the death of Ali Baba. For this purpose he returned to the
town, and took a lodging in a khan, and disguised himself as a merchant
in silks. Under this assumed character, he gradually conveyed a great
many sorts of rich stuffs and fine linen to his lodging from the cavern,
but with all the necessary precautions to conceal the place whence he
brought them. In order to dispose of the merchandise, when he had thus
amassed them together, he took a warehouse, which happened to be
opposite to Cassim's, which Ali Baba's son had occupied since the death
of his uncle.

He took the name of Cogia Houssain, and, as a new-comer, was, according
to custom, extremely civil and complaisant to all the merchants his
neighbours. Ali Baba's son was, from his vicinity, one of the first to
converse with Cogia Houssain, who strove to cultivate his friendship
more particularly. Two or three days after he was settled, Ali Baba came
to see his son, and the captain of the robbers recognised him at once,
and soon learned from his son who he was. After this he increased his
assiduities, caressed him in the most engaging manner, made him some
small presents, and often asked him to dine and sup with him, when he
treated him very handsomely.

Ali Baba's son did not choose to lie under such obligation to Cogia
Houssain; but was so much straitened for want of room in his house, that
he could not entertain him. He therefore acquainted his father, Ali
Baba, with his wish to invite him in return.

Ali Baba with great pleasure took the treat upon himself. "Son," said
he, "to-morrow being Friday, which is a day that the shops of such great
merchants as Cogia Houssain and yourself are shut, get him to accompany
you, and as you pass by my door, call in. I will go and order Morgiana
to provide a supper."

The next day Ali Baba's son and Cogia Houssain met by appointment, took
their walk, and as they returned, Ali Baba's son led Cogia Houssain
through the street where his father lived, and when they came to the
house, stopped and knocked at the door. "This, sir," said he, "is my
father's house, who, from the account I have given him of your
friendship, charged me to procure him the honour of your acquaintance;
and I desire you to add this pleasure to those for which I am already
indebted to you."

Though it was the sole aim of Cogia Houssain to introduce himself into
Ali Baba's house, that he might kill him, without hazarding his own life
or making any noise, yet he excused himself, and offered to take his
leave; but a slave having opened the door, Ali Baba's son took him
obligingly by the hand, and, in a manner, forced him in.

Ali Baba received Cogia Houssain with a smiling countenance, and in the
most obliging manner he could wish. He thanked him for all the favours
he had done his son; adding withal, the obligation was the greater, as
he was a young man, not much acquainted with the world, and that he
might contribute to his information.

Cogia Houssain returned the compliment by assuring Ali Baba that though
his son might not have acquired the experience of older men, he had good
sense equal to the experience of many others. After a little more
conversation on different subjects, he offered again to take his leave,
when Ali Baba, stopping him, said, "Where are you going, sir, in so much
haste? I beg you would do me the honour to sup with me, though my
entertainment may not be worthy your acceptance; such as it is, I
heartily offer it." "Sir," replied Cogia Houssain, "I am thoroughly
persuaded of your good-will; but the truth is, I can eat no victuals
that have any salt in them; therefore judge how I should feel at your
table." "If that is the only reason," said Ali Baba, "it ought not to
deprive me of the honour of your company; for, in the first place, there
is no salt ever put into my bread, and as to the meat we shall have
to-night, I promise you there shall be none in that. Therefore you must
do me the favour to stay. I will return immediately."

Ali Baba went into the kitchen, and ordered Morgiana to put no salt to
the meat that was to be dressed that night; and to make quickly two or
three ragouts besides what he had ordered, but be sure to put no salt in
them.

Morgiana, who was always ready to obey her master, could not help being
surprised at his strange order. "Who is this strange man," said she,
"who eats no salt with his meat? Your supper will be spoiled, if I keep
it back so long." "Do not be angry, Morgiana," replied Ali Baba; "he is
an honest man, therefore do as I bid you."

Morgiana obeyed, though with no little reluctance, and had a curiosity
to see this man who ate no salt. To this end, when she had finished what
she had to do in the kitchen, she helped Abdalla to carry up the dishes;
and looking at Cogia Houssain, knew him at first sight, notwithstanding
his disguise, to be the captain of the robbers, and examining him very
carefully, perceived that he had a dagger under his garment. "I am not
in the least amazed," said she to herself, "that this wicked man, who is
my master's greatest enemy, would eat no salt with him, since he intends
to assassinate him; but I will prevent him."

Morgiana, while they were at supper, determined in her own mind to
execute one of the boldest acts ever meditated. When Abdalla came for
the dessert of fruit, and had put it with the wine and glasses before
Ali Baba, Morgiana retired, dressed herself neatly, with a suitable
head-dress like a dancer, girded her waist with a silver-gilt girdle, to
which there hung a poniard with a hilt and guard of the same metal, and
put a handsome mask on her face. When she had thus disguised herself,
she said to Abdalla, "Take your tabour, and let us go and divert our
master and his son's friend, as we do sometimes when he is alone."

Abdalla took his tabour and played all the way into the hall before
Morgiana, who, when she came to the door, made a low obeisance by way of
asking leave to exhibit her skill, while Abdalla left off playing. "Come
in, Morgiana," said Ali Baba, "and let Cogia Houssain see what you can
do, that he may tell us what he thinks of your performance."

Cogia Houssain, who did not expect this diversion after supper, began to
fear he should not be able to take advantage of the opportunity he
thought he had found; but hoped, if he now missed his aim, to secure it
another time, by keeping up a friendly correspondence with the father
and son; therefore, though he could have wished Ali Baba would have
declined the dance, he pretended to be obliged to him for it, and had
the complaisance to express his satisfaction at what he said, which
pleased his host.

As soon as Abdalla saw that Ali Baba and Cogia Houssain had done
talking, he began to play on the tabour, and accompanied it with an air,
to which Morgiana, who was an excellent performer, danced in such a
manner as would have created admiration in any company.

After she had danced several dances with much grace, she drew the
poniard, and holding it in her hand, began a dance, in which she outdid
herself by the many different figures, light movements, and the
surprising leaps and wonderful exertions with which she accompanied it.
Sometimes she presented the poniard to one breast, sometimes to another,
and oftentimes seemed to strike her own. At last, she snatched the
tabour from Abdalla with her left hand, and holding the dagger in her
right presented the other side of the tabour, after the manner of those
who get a livelihood by dancing, and solicit the liberality of the
spectators.

Ali Baba put a piece of gold into the tabour, as did also his son; and
Cogia Houssain seeing that she was coming to him, had pulled his purse
out of his bosom to make her a present; but while he was putting his
hand into it, Morgiana, with a courage and resolution worthy of herself,
plunged the poniard into his heart.

Ali Baba and his son, shocked at this action, cried out aloud. "Unhappy
woman!" exclaimed Ali Baba, "what have you done to ruin me and my
family?" "It was to preserve, not to ruin you," answered Morgiana; "for
see here," continued she, opening the pretended Cogia Houssain's
garment, and showing the dagger, "what an enemy you had entertained?
Look well at him, and you will find him to be both the fictitious oil
merchant, and the captain of the gang of forty robbers. Remember, too,
that he would eat no salt with you; and what would you have more to
persuade you of his wicked design? Before I saw him, I suspected him as
soon as you told me you had such a guest. I knew him, and you now find
that my suspicion was not groundless."

Ali Baba, who immediately felt the new obligation he had to Morgiana for
saving his life a second time, embraced her: "Morgiana," said he, "I
gave you your liberty, and then promised you that my gratitude should
not stop there, but that I would soon give you higher proofs of its
sincerity, which I now do by making you my daughter-in-law." Then
addressing himself to his son, he said, "I believe you, son, to be so
dutiful a child, that you will not refuse Morgiana for your wife. You
see that Cogia Houssain sought your friendship with a treacherous design
to take away my life; and if he had succeeded, there is no doubt but he
would have sacrificed you also to his revenge. Consider, that by
marrying Morgiana you marry the preserver of my family and your own,"

The son, far from showing any dislike, readily consented to the
marriage; not only because he would not disobey his father, but also
because it was agreeable to his inclination. After this they thought of
burying the captain of the robbers with his comrades, and did it so
privately that nobody discovered their bones till many years after, when
no one had any concern in the publication of this remarkable history. A
few days afterward, Ali Baba celebrated the nuptials of his son and
Morgiana with great solemnity, a sumptuous feast, and the usual dancing
and spectacles; and had the satisfaction to see that his friends and
neighbours, whom he invited, had no knowledge of the true motives of the
marriage; but that those who were not unacquainted with Morgiana's good
qualities commended his generosity and goodness of heart Ali Baba did
not visit the robbers' cave for a whole year, as he supposed the other
two, whom he could get no account of, might be alive.

At the year's end, when he found they had not made any attempt to
disturb him, he had the curiosity to make another journey. He mounted
his horse, and when he came to the cave he alighted, tied his horse to a
tree, then approaching the entrance, and pronouncing the words, "Open,
Sesame!" the door opened. He entered the cavern, and by the condition he
found things in, judged that nobody had been there since the captain had
fetched the goods for his shop. From this time he believed he was the
only person in the world who had the secret of opening the cave, and
that all the treasure was at his sole disposal. He put as much gold into
his saddle-bag as his horse would carry, and returned to town. Some
years later he carried his son to the cave and taught him the secret,
which he handed down to his posterity, who, using their good fortune
with moderation, lived in great honour and splendour.

Thursday, September 10, 2015

HANSEL AND GRETEL


Near the borders of a large forest dwelt in olden times a poor
wood-cutter, who had two children--a boy named Hansel, and his sister,
Grethel. They had very little to live upon, and once when there was a
dreadful season of scarcity in the land, the poor wood-cutter could not
earn sufficient to supply their daily food.

One evening, after the children were gone to bed, the parents sat
talking together over their sorrow, and the poor husband sighed, and
said to his wife, who was not the mother of his children, but their
stepmother, "What will become of us, for I cannot earn enough to support
myself and you, much less the children? what shall we do with them, for
they must not starve?"

"I know what to do, husband," she replied; "early to-morrow morning we
will take the children for a walk across the forest and leave them in
the thickest part; they will never find the way home again, you may
depend, and then we shall only have to work for ourselves."

"No, wife," said the man, "that I will never do. How could I have the
heart to leave my children all alone in the wood, where the wild beasts
would come quickly and devour them?"

"Oh, you fool," replied the stepmother, "if you refuse to do this, you
know we must all four perish with hunger; you may as well go and cut the
wood for our coffins." And after this she let him have no peace till he
became quite worn out, and could not sleep for hours, but lay thinking
in sorrow about his children.

The two children, who also were too hungry to sleep, heard all that
their stepmother had said to their father. Poor little Grethel wept
bitter tears as she listened, and said to her brother, "What is going to
happen to us, Hansel?"

"Hush, Grethel," he whispered, "don't be so unhappy; I know what to do."

Then they lay quite still till their parents were asleep.

As soon as it was quiet, Hansel got up, put on his little coat,
unfastened the door, and slipped out The moon shone brightly, and the
white pebble stones which lay before the cottage door glistened like new
silver money. Hansel stooped and picked up as many of the pebbles as he
could stuff in his little coat pockets. He then went back to Grethel and
said, "Be comforted, dear little sister, and sleep in peace; heaven will
take care of us." Then he laid himself down again in bed, and slept till
the day broke.

As soon as the sun was risen, the stepmother came and woke the two
children, and said, "Get up, you lazy bones, and come into the wood with
me to gather wood for the fire." Then she gave each of them a piece of
bread, and said, "You must keep that to eat for your dinner, and don't
quarrel over it, for you will get nothing more."

Grethel took the bread under her charge, for Hansel's pockets were full
of pebbles. Then the stepmother led them a long way into the forest.
They had gone but a very short distance when Hansel looked back at the
house, and this he did again and again.

At last his stepmother said, "Why do you keep staying behind and looking
back so?"

"Oh, mother," said the boy, "I can see my little white cat sitting on
the roof of the house, and I am sure she is crying for me."

"Nonsense," she replied; "that is not your cat; it is the morning sun
shining on the chimney-pot."

Hansel had seen no cat, but he stayed behind every time to drop a white
pebble from his pocket on the ground as they walked.

As soon as they reached a thick part of the wood, their stepmother said:

"Come, children, gather some wood, and I will make a fire, for it is
very cold here."

Then Hansel and Grethel raised quite a high heap of brushwood and
faggots, which soon blazed up into a bright fire, and the woman said to
them:

"Sit down here, children, and rest, while I go and find your father, who
is cutting wood in the forest; when we have finished our work, we will
come again and fetch you."

Hansel and Grethel seated themselves by the fire, and when noon arrived
they each ate the piece of bread which their stepmother had given them
for their dinner; and as long as they heard the strokes of the axe they
felt safe, for they believed that their father was working near them.
But it was not an axe they heard--only a branch which still hung on a
withered tree, and was moved up and down by the wind. At last, when they
had been sitting there a long time, the children's eyes became heavy
with fatigue, and they fell fast asleep. When they awoke it was dark
night, and poor Grethel began to cry, and said, "Oh, how shall we get
out of the wood?"

But Hansel comforted her. "Don't fear," he said; "let us wait a little
while till the moon rises, and then we shall easily find our way home."

Very soon the full moon rose, and then Hansel took his little sister by
the hand, and the white pebble stones, which glittered like newly-coined
money in the moonlight, and which Hansel had dropped as he walked,
pointed out the way. They walked all the night through, and did not
reach their father's house till break of day.

They knocked at the door, and when their stepmother opened it, she
exclaimed: "You naughty children, why have you been staying so long in
the forest? we thought you were never coming back," But their father was
overjoyed to see them, for it grieved him to the heart to think that
they had been left alone in the wood.

Not long after this there came another time of scarcity and want in
every house, and the children heard their stepmother talking after they
were in bed. "The times are as bad as ever," she said; "we have just
half a loaf left, and when that is gone all love will be at an end. The
children must go away; we will take them deeper into the forest this
time, and they will not be able to find their way home as they did
before; it is the only plan to save ourselves from starvation." But the
husband felt heavy at heart, for he thought it was better to share the
last morsel with his children.

His wife would listen to nothing he said, but continued to reproach him,
and as he had given way to her the first time, he could not refuse to do
so now. The children were awake, and heard all the conversation; so, as
soon as their parents slept, Hansel got up, intending to go out and
gather some more of the bright pebbles to let fall as he walked, that
they might point out the way home; but his stepmother had locked the
door, and he could not open it. When he went back to his bed he told his
little sister not to fret, but to go to sleep in peace, for he was sure
they would be taken care of.

Early the next morning the stepmother came and pulled the children out
of bed, and, when they were dressed, gave them each a piece of bread for
their dinners, smaller than they had had before, and then they started
on their way to the wood.

As they walked, Hansel, who had the bread in his pocket, broke off
little crumbs, and stopped every now and then to drop one, turning round
as if he was looking back at his home.

"Hansel," said the woman, "what are you stopping for in that way? Come
along directly."

"I saw my pigeon sitting on the roof, and he wants to say good-bye to
me," replied the boy.

"Nonsense," she said; "that is not your pigeon; it is only the morning
sun shining on the chimney-top."

But Hansel did not look back any more; he only dropped pieces of bread
behind him, as they walked through the wood. This time they went on till
they reached the thickest and densest part of the forest, where they had
never been before in all their lives. Again they gathered faggots and
brushwood, of which the stepmother made up a large fire. Then she said,
"Remain here, children, and rest, while I go to help your father, who is
cutting wood in the forest; when you feel tired, you can lie down and
sleep for a little while, and we will come and fetch you in the evening,
when your father has finished his work."

So the children remained alone till mid-day, and then Grethel shared her
piece of bread with Hansel, for he had scattered his own all along the
road as they walked. After this they slept for awhile, and the evening
drew on; but no one came to fetch the poor children. When they awoke it
was quite dark, and poor little Grethel was afraid; but Hansel comforted
her, as he had done before, by telling her they need only wait till the
moon rose. "You know, little sister," he said, "that I have thrown
breadcrumbs all along the road we came, and they will easily point out
the way home."

But when they went out of the thicket into the moonlight they found no
breadcrumbs, for the numerous birds which inhabited the trees of the
forest had picked them all up.

Hansel tried to hide his fear when he made this sad discovery, and said
to his sister, "Cheer up, Grethel; I dare say we shall find our way home
without the crumbs. Let us try." But this they found impossible. They
wandered about the whole night, and the next day from morning till
evening; but they could not get out of the wood, and were so hungry that
had it not been for a few berries which they picked they must have
starved.

At last they were so tired that their poor little legs could carry them
no farther; so they laid themselves down under a tree and went to sleep.
When they awoke it was the third morning since they had left their
father's house, and they determined to try once more to find their way
home; but it was no use, they only went still deeper into the wood, and
knew that if no help came they must starve.

About noon, they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on the branch
of a tree, and singing so beautifully that they stood still to listen.
When he had finished his song, he spread out his wings and flew on
before them. The children followed him, till at last they saw at a
distance a small house; and the bird flew and perched on the roof.

But how surprised were the boy and girl, when they came nearer, to find
that the house was built of gingerbread, and ornamented with sweet cakes
and tarts, while the window was formed of barley-sugar. "Oh!" exclaimed
Hansel, "let us stop here and have a splendid feast. I will have a piece
from the roof first, Grethel; and you can eat some of the barley-sugar
window, it tastes so nice." Hansel reached up on tiptoe, and breaking
off a piece of the gingerbread, he began to eat with all his might, for
he was very hungry. Grethel seated herself on the doorstep, and began
munching away at the cakes of which it was made. Presently a voice came
out of the cottage:

  "Munching, crunching, munching,
   Who's eating up my house?"

Then answered the children:

    "The wind, the wind,
     Only the wind,"

and went on eating as if they never meant to leave off, without a
suspicion of wrong. Hansel, who found the cake on the roof taste very
good, broke off another large piece, and Grethel had just taken out a
whole pane of barley-sugar from the window, and seated herself to eat
it, when the door opened, and a strange-looking old woman came out
leaning on a stick.

Hansel and Grethel were so frightened that they let fall what they held
in their hands. The old woman shook her head at them, and said, "Ah, you
dear children, who has brought you here? Come in, and stay with me for a
little while, and there shall no harm happen to you." She seized them
both by the hands as she spoke, and led them into the house. She gave
them for supper plenty to eat and drink--milk and pancakes and sugar,
apples and nuts; and when evening came, Hansel and Grethel were shown
two beautiful little beds with white curtains, and they lay down in them
and thought they were in heaven.

But although the old woman pretended to be friendly, she was a wicked
witch, who had her house built of gingerbread on purpose to entrap
children. When once they were in her power, she would feed them well
till they got fat, and then kill them and cook them for her dinner; and
this she called her feast-day. Fortunately the witch had weak eyes, and
could not see very well; but she had a very keen scent, as wild animals
have, and could easily discover when human beings were near. As Hansel
and Grethel had approached her cottage, she laughed to herself
maliciously, and said, with a sneer: "I have them now; they shall not
escape from me again!"

Early in the morning, before the children were awake, she was up,
standing by their beds; and when she saw how beautiful they looked in
their sleep, with their round rosy cheeks, she muttered to herself,
"What nice tit-bits they will be!" Then she laid hold of Hansel with her
rough hand, dragged him out of bed, and led him to a little cage which
had a lattice-door, and shut him in; he might scream as much as he
would, but it was all useless.

After this she went back to Grethel, and, shaking her roughly till she
woke, cried: "Get up, you lazy hussy, and draw some water, that I may
boil something good for your brother, who is shut up in a cage outside
till he gets fat; and then I shall cook him and eat him!" When Grethel
heard this she began to cry bitterly; but it was all useless, she was
obliged to do as the wicked witch told her.

For poor Hansel's breakfast the best of everything was cooked; but
Grethel had nothing for herself but a crab's claw. Every morning the old
woman would go out to the little cage, and say: "Hansel, stick out your
finger, that I may feel if you are fat enough for eating." But Hansel,
who knew how dim her old eyes were, always stuck a bone through the bars
of his cage, which she thought was his finger, for she could not see;
and when she felt how thin it was, she wondered very much why he did not
get fat.

However, as the weeks went on, and Hansel seemed not to get any fatter,
she became impatient, and said she could not wait any longer. "Go,
Grethel," she cried to the maiden, "be quick and draw water; Hansel may
be fat or lean, I don't care, to-morrow morning I mean to kill him, and
cook him!"

Oh! how the poor little sister grieved when she was forced to draw the
water; and, as the tears rolled down her cheeks, she exclaimed: "It
would have been better to be eaten by wild beasts, or to have been
starved to death in the woods; then we should have died together!"

"Stop your crying!" cried the old woman; "it is not of the least use, no
one will come to help you."

Early in the morning Grethel was obliged to go out and fill the great
pot with water, and hang it over the fire to boil. As soon as this was
done, the old woman said, "We will bake some bread first; I have made
the oven hot, and the dough is already kneaded." Then she dragged poor
little Grethel up to the oven door, under which the flames were burning
fiercely, and said: "Creep in there, and see if it is hot enough yet to
bake the bread." But if Grethel had obeyed her, she would have shut the
poor child in and baked her for dinner, instead of boiling Hansel.

Grethel, however, guessed what she wanted to do, and said, "I don't know
how to get in through that narrow door."

"Stupid goose," said the old woman, "why, the oven door is quite large
enough for me; just look, I could get in myself." As she spoke she
stepped forward and pretended to put her head in the oven.

A sudden thought gave Grethel unusual strength; she started forward,
gave the old woman a push which sent her right into the oven, then she
shut the iron door and fastened the bolt.

Oh! how the old witch did howl, it was quite horrible to hear her. But
Grethel ran away, and therefore she was left to burn, just as she had
left many poor little children to burn. And how quickly Grethel ran to
Hansel, opened the door of his cage, and cried, "Hansel, Hansel, we are
free; the old witch is dead." He flew like a bird out of his cage at
these words as soon as the door was opened, and the children were so
overjoyed that they ran into each other's arms, and kissed each other
with the greatest love.

And now that there was nothing to be afraid of, they went back into the
house, and while looking round the old witch's room, they saw an old oak
chest, which they opened, and found it full of pearls and precious
stones. "These are better than pebbles," said Hansel; and he filled his
pockets as full as they would hold.

"I will carry some home too," said Grethel, and she held out her apron,
which held quite as much as Hansel's pockets.

"We will go now," he said, "and get away as soon as we can from this
enchanted forest."

They had been walking for nearly two hours when they came to a large
sheet of water.

"What shall we do now?" said the boy. "We cannot get across, and there
is no bridge of any sort."

"Oh! here comes a boat," cried Grethel, but she was mistaken; it was
only a white duck which came swimming towards the children. "Perhaps she
will help us across if we ask her," said the child; and she sung,
"Little duck, do help poor Hansel and Grethel; there is not a bridge,
nor a boat--will you let us sail across on your white back?"

The good-natured duck came near the bank as Grethel spoke, so close
indeed that Hansel could seat himself and wanted to take his little
sister on his lap, but she said, "No, we shall be too heavy for the kind
duck; let her take us over one at a time."

The good creature did as the children wished; she carried Grethel over
first, and then came back for Hansel. And then how happy the children
were to find themselves in a part of the wood which they remembered
quite well, and as they walked on, the more familiar it became, till at
last they caught sight of their father's house. Then they began to run,
and, bursting into the room, threw themselves into their father's arms.

Poor man, he had not had a moment's peace since the children had been
left alone in the forest; he was full of joy at finding them safe and
well again, and now they had nothing to fear, for their wicked
stepmother was dead.

But how surprised the poor wood-cutter was when Grethel opened and shook
her little apron to see the glittering pearls and precious stones
scattered about the room, while Hansel drew handful after handful from
his pockets. From this moment all his care and sorrow was at an end, and
the father lived in happiness with his children till his death.

Saturday, May 16, 2015

[Armenian Tale] The Vacant Yard

Several days ago I wished to visit an acquaintance, but it chanced he
was not at home. I came therefore through the gate again out into the
street, and stood looking to right and left and considering where I
could go. In front of me lay a vacant yard, which was, I thought, not
wholly like other vacant yards. On it was neither house nor barn nor
stable: true, none of these was there, but it was very evident that this
yard could not have been deserted long by its tenants. The house must,
also, in my opinion, have been torn down, for of traces of fire, as, for
example, charred beams, damaged stoves, and rubbish heaps, there was no
sign.

In a word, it could be plainly perceived that the house which once stood
there had been pulled down, and its beams and timbers carried away. In
the middle of the premises, near the line hedge, stood several high
trees, acacias, fig, and plum-trees; scattered among them were
gooseberry bushes, rose-trees, and blackthorns, while near the street,
just in the place where the window of the house was probably set, stood
a high, green fig-tree.

I have seen many vacant lots, yet never before have I given a passing
thought as to whom any one of them belonged, or who might have lived
there, or indeed where its future possessor might be. But in a peculiar
way the sight of this yard called up questions of this sort; and as I
looked at it many different thoughts came into my mind. Perhaps, I
thought to myself, a childless fellow, who spoiled old age with sighs
and complaints, and as his life waned the walls mouldered. Finally, the
house was without a master; the doors and windows stood open, and when
the dark winter nights came on, the neighbors fell upon it and stripped
off its boards, one after another. Yes, various thoughts came into my
head. How hard it is to build a house, and how easy to tear it down!

While I stood there lost in thought, an old woman, leaning on a staff,
passed me. I did not immediately recognize her, but at a second glance I
saw it was Hripsime. Nurse Hripsime was a woman of five-and-seventy,
yet, from her steady gait, her lively speech, and her fiery eyes, she
appeared to be scarcely fifty. She was vigorous and hearty, expressed
her opinions like a man, and was abrupt in her speech. Had she not worn
women's garments one could easily have taken her for a man. Indeed, in
conversation she held her own with ten men.

Once, I wot not for what reason, she was summoned to court. She went
thither, placed herself before the judge, and spoke so bravely that
everyone gaped and stared at her as at a prodigy. Another time thieves
tried to get into her house at night, knowing that she was alone like an
owl in the house. The thieves began to pry open the door with a crowbar,
and when Nurse Hripsime heard it she sprang nimbly out of bed, seized
her stick from its corner, and began to shout: "Ho, there! Simon,
Gabriel, Matthew, Stephan, Aswadur, get up quickly. Get your axes and
sticks. Thieves are here; collar the rascals; bind them, skin them,
strike them dead!" The thieves probably did not know with whom they had
to deal, and, when at the outcry of the old woman they conceived that a
half-dozen stout-handed fellows might be in the house, they took
themselves off. Just such a cunning, fearless woman was Aunt Hripsime.

"Good-morning, nurse," said I.

"God greet thee," she replied.

"Where have you been?"

"I have been with the sick," she rejoined.

Oh, yes! I had wholly forgotten to say that Nurse Hripsime, though she
could neither read nor write, was a skilful physician. She laid the sick
person on the grass, administered a sherbet, cured hemorrhoids and
epilepsy; and especially with sick women was she successful. Yes, to her
skill I myself can bear witness. About four years ago my child was taken
ill in the dog-days, and for three years my wife had had a fever, so
that she was very feeble. The daughter of Arutin, the gold-worker, and
the wife of Saak, the tile-maker, said to me: "There is an excellent
physician called Hripsime. Send for her, and you will not regret it."
To speak candidly, I have never found much brains in our doctor. He
turns round on his heels and scribbles out a great many prescriptions,
but his skill is not worth a toadstool.

I sent for Hripsime, and, sure enough, not three days had passed before
my wife's fever had ceased and my children's pain was allayed. For three
years, thank God, no sickness has visited my house. Whether it can be
laid to her skill and the lightness of her hand or to the medicine I
know not. I know well, however, that Nurse Hripsime is my family
physician. And what do I pay her? Five rubles a year, no more and no
less. When she comes to us it is a holiday for my children, so sweetly
does she speak to them and so well does she know how to win their
hearts. Indeed, if I were a sultan, she should be my vezir.

"How does the city stand in regard to sickness?" I asked her.

"Of that one would rather not speak," answered Hripsime. "Ten more such
years and our whole city will become a hospital. Heaven knows what kind
of diseases they are! Moreover, they are of a very peculiar kind, and
often the people die very suddenly. The bells fly in pieces almost from
so much tolling, the grave-diggers' shovels are blunt, and from the
great demand for coffins the price of wood is risen. What will become of
us, I know not."

"Is not, then, the cause of these diseases known to you?"

"Oh, that is clear enough," answered Hripsime. "It is a punishment for
our sins. What good deeds have we done that we should expect God's
mercy? Thieves, counterfeiters, all these you find among us. They snatch
the last shirt from the poor man's back, purloin trust moneys, church
money: in a word, there is no shameless deed we will not undertake for
profit. We need not wonder if God punishes us for it. Yes, God acts
justly, praised be his holy name! Indeed, it would be marvellous if God
let us go unpunished."

Hripsime was not a little excited, and that was just what I wished. When
she once began she could no longer hold in: her words gushed forth as
from a spring, and the more she spoke the smoother her speech.

"Do you know?" I began again, "that I have been standing a long while
before this deserted yard, and cannot recall whose house stood here, why
they have pulled it down, and what has become of its inhabitants? You
are an aged woman, and have peeped into every corner of our city: you
must have something to tell about it. If you have nothing important on
hand, be kind enough to tell me what you know of the former residents of
the vanished house."

Nurse Hripsime turned her gaze to the vacant yard, and, shaking her
head, said:

"My dear son, the history of that house is as long as one of our
fairy-tales. One must tell for seven days and seven nights in order to
reach the end.

"This yard was not always so desolate as you see it now," she went on.
"Once there stood here a house, not very large, but pretty and
attractive, and made of wood. The wooden houses of former days pleased
me much better than the present stone houses, which look like cheese
mats outside and are prisons within. An old proverb says, 'In stone or
brick houses life goes on sadly,'

"Here, on this spot, next to the fig-tree," she continued, "stood
formerly a house with a five-windowed front, green blinds, and a red
roof. Farther back there by the acacias stood the stable, and between
the house and the stable, the kitchen and the hen-house. Here to the
right of the gate a spring." With these words Nurse Hripsime took a step
forward, looked about, and said: "What is this? the spring gone, too! I
recollect as if to-day that there was a spring of sweet water on the
very spot where I am standing. What can have happened to it! I know that
everything can be lost--but a spring, how can that be lost?" Hripsime
stooped and began to scratch about with her stick. "Look here," she said
suddenly, "bad boys have filled up the beautiful spring with earth and
stones. Plague take it! Well, if one's head is cut off, he weeps not for
his beard. For the spring I care not, but for poor Sarkis and his family
I am very sorry."

"Are you certain that the house of Sarkis, the grocer, stood here? I had
wholly forgotten it. Now tell me, I pray, what has become of him? Does
he still live, or is he dead? Where is his family? I remember now that
he had a pretty daughter and also a son."

Nurse Hripsime gave no heed to my questions, but stood silently, poking
about with her stick near the choked-up spring.

The picture of Grocer Sarkis, as we called him, took form vividly in my
memory, and with it awoke many experiences of my childhood. I remembered
that when I was a child a dear old lady often visited us, who was
continually telling us about Grocer Sarkis, and used to hold up his
children as models. In summer, when the early fruit was ripe, she used
to visit his house, gather fruit in his garden, and would always come to
us with full pockets, bringing us egg-plums, saffron apples, fig-pears,
and many other fruits. From that time we knew Sarkis, and when my mother
wanted any little thing for the house I got it for her at his store. I
loved him well, this Sarkis; he was a quiet, mild man, around whose
mouth a smile hovered. "What do you want, my child?" he always asked
when I entered his store.

"My mother sends you greeting," I would answer. "She wants this or
that."

"Well, well, my child, you shall have it," he usually answered, and
always gave me a stick of sugar candy, with the words, "That is for you;
it is good for the cough." It never happened that I went out of the
store without receiving something from him. In winter-time he treated me
to sugar candy, and in summer-time he always had in his store great
baskets full of apricots, plums, pears, and apples, or whatever was in
season in his garden. His garden at that time--some thirty or
thirty-five years ago--was very famous. One time my mother sent me to
Sarkis's store to procure, as I remember, saffron for the pillau. Sarkis
gave me what I desired, and then noticing, probably, how longingly I
looked toward the fruit-baskets, he said:

"Now, you shall go and have a good time in my garden. Do you know where
my house is?"

"Yes, I know. Not far from the Church of Our Lady."

"Right, my son, you have found it. It has green blinds, and a fig-tree
stands in front of it. Now take this basket and carry it to Auntie, and
say that I sent word that she was to let you go into the garden with my
son Toros. There you two may eat what you will."

He handed me a neat-looking basket. I peeped into it and saw a sheep's
liver. I was as disgusted with this as though it were a dead dog, for at
that time liver-eaters were abhorred not less than thieves and
counterfeiters; they with their whole family were held in derision, and
people generally refused to associate with them. In a moment I forgot
entirely what a good man Sarkis was; I forgot his fruit-garden and his
pretty daughter, of whom the good old lady had told me so many beautiful
things. The liver had spoiled everything in a trice. Sarkis noticed
this, and asked me smiling:

"What is the matter?"

"Have you a dog in your yard?" I asked, without heeding his words.

"No," he said.

"For whom, then, is the liver?"

"For none other than ourselves. We will eat it."

I looked at Sarkis to see if he were jesting with me, but no sign of
jesting was to be seen in his face.

"You will really eat the liver yourselves?" I asked.

"What astonishes you, my boy? Is not liver to be eaten, then?"

"Dogs eat liver," I said, deeply wounded, and turned away, for Sarkis
appeared to me at that moment like a ghoul.

Just then there came into the store a pretty, pleasing boy. "Mamma sent
me to get what you have bought at the Bazaar, and the hearth-fire has
been lit a long time." I concluded that this was Sarkis's son, Toros. I
perceived immediately from his face that he was a good boy, and I was
very much taken with him.

"Here, little son, take that," Sarkis said, and handed him the basket
which I had set down.

Toros peeped in, and when he spied the liver he said, "We will have a
pie for dinner." Then he put on his cap and turned to go.

"Toros," called his father to him, "take Melkon with you to our house
and play with him as a brother."

I was exceedingly pleased with the invitation, and went out with Toros.
When we arrived at Sarkis's house and entered the garden it seemed as
though I were in an entirely new world. The yard was very pretty, no
disorder was to be seen anywhere. Here and there pretty chickens,
geese, and turkeys ran about with their chicks. On the roof sat doves of
the best kinds. The yard was shaded in places by pretty green trees, the
house had a pretty balcony, and under the eaves stood green-painted tubs
for catching rain-water. In the windows different flowers were growing,
and from the balcony hung cages of goldfinches, nightingales, and canary
birds; in a word, everything I saw was pretty, homelike, and pleasant.

In the kitchen cooking was going on, for thick smoke rose from the
chimney. At the kitchen-door stood Sarkis's wife, a healthy,
red-cheeked, and vigorous woman, apparently about thirty years old. From
the fire that burned on the hearth her cheeks were still more reddened,
so that it seemed, as they say, the redness sprang right out of her. On
a little stool on the balcony sat a little girl, who wore, according to
the prevailing fashion, a red satin fez on her head. This was Toros's
sister. I have seen many beautiful girls in my time, but never a
prettier one. Her name was Takusch.

Getting the mother's consent, we entered the garden, where we helped
ourselves freely to the good fruit and enjoyed the fragrance of many
flowers. At noon, Sarkis came home from the store, and invited me to
dinner. My gaze was continually directed toward the beautiful Takusch.
Oh, well-remembered years! What a pity it is that they pass by so
quickly! Two or three months later I journeyed to the Black Sea, where I
was apprenticed to a merchant, and since that time I have not been in my
native city--for some twenty-four years--and all that I have told was
awakened in my memory in a trice by my meeting with Hripsime.

The old woman was still standing on the site of the choked-up spring,
scratching around on the ground with her stick.

"Nurse Hripsime, where is Sarkis and his family now?" I asked.

"Did you know him, then?" she asked, astonished.

"Yes, a little," I replied.

"Your parents were acquainted with him?"

"No. I was only once in his house, and then as a boy."

"Oh, then! That was his happiest time. What pleasant times we had in his
garden! Formerly it was not as it is now--not a trace of their pleasant
garden remains. The house has disappeared. Look again: yonder was the
kitchen, there the hen-house, there the barn, and here the spring."

As she spoke she pointed out with her stick each place, but of the
buildings she named not a trace was to be seen.

"Ah, my son," she went on, "he who destroyed the happiness of these
good, pious people, who tore down their house and scattered the whole
family to the winds, may that man be judged by God! He fell like a wolf
upon their goods and chattels. I wish no evil to him, but if there is a
God in heaven may he find no peace in his house, may his children bring
no joy to him, and may no happiness find its way within his four walls.
As he ruined those four poor wretches and was guilty of their early
death, so may he roam over the wide world without rest nor find in sleep
any comfort! Yes, may his trouble and sorrow increase with the abundance
of his wealth!

"I knew Sarkis when he was still a boy. When you knew him he must have
been about forty years old. He was always just as you saw him: reserved,
discreet, pious, beneficent to the poor, and hospitable. It never
occurred that he spoke harshly to his wife or raised his hand against
his children. He was ever satisfied with what he had; never complained
that he had too little, or coveted the possessions of others. Yes, a
pious man was Sarkis, and his wife had the same virtues. Early in
childhood she lost her parents, and relatives of her mother adopted her,
but treated her badly. Yes, bitter is the lot of the orphan, for even if
they have means they are no better off than the poor! They said that
when her father died he left her a store with goods worth about 3,000
rubles, and beside that 2,000 ducats in cash; but he was hardly dead
when the relations came and secured the stock and gold as guardians of
the orphan. When she was fourteen years old, one after another wooed
her, but when the go-betweens found out that there was nothing left of
her property they went away and let the girl alone.

"Happily for her, Sarkis appeared, and said: 'I want a wife; I seek no
riches,' Of course, the relations gave her to him at once, and with her
all sorts of trumpery, some half-ruined furniture, and a few gold
pieces. 'That is all her father left,' they said, and demanded from him
a receipt for the whole legacy from her father. That was the way they
shook her off!

"At that time Sarkis himself had nothing, and was just as poor as his
wife. He was clerk in a store, and received not more than 150 rubles in
notes yearly, which were worth in current money scarcely one-third their
face value. Yes, they were both poor, but God's mercy is great and no
one can fathom his purposes! In the same year the merchant whom he
served suddenly died after making over to Sarkis the whole store and all
that was in it, on condition that a certain sum should be paid every
year to the widow.

"Sarkis took the business, and after three years he was sole owner of
it. He increased it continually, and on the plot of ground he had
inherited from his father he built a pretty house and moved into it. In
the same year God gave him a daughter, whom he named Takusch, and four
years later his son Toros came into the world.

"So these two orphans established a household and became somebodies;
people who had laughed at them now sought their society, and began to
vie with each other in praising Sarkis. But Sarkis remained the same
God-fearing Sarkis. He spoke evil of no one, and even of his wife's
relatives, who had robbed him, he said nothing. Indeed, when they had
gone through that inheritance and were in want he even helped them out.

"As I have said, Sarkis refused no one his assistance, but his wife had
also a good heart. The good things she did cannot be told. How often she
baked cracknel, cakes, rolls, and sweet biscuit, and sent great plates
full of them to those who could not have such things, for she said, 'May
those who pass by and smell the fragrance of my cakes never desire them
in vain.'

"About this time my husband died--may God bless him!--and I was living
alone. Sarkis's wife came to me and said, 'Why will you live so lonely
in your house? Rent it and come to us.' Of course, I did not hesitate
long. I laid my things away in a large chest and moved over to their
house, and soon we lived together like two sisters. Takusch was at that
time four years old, and Toros was still a baby in arms. I lived ten
years at their house, and heard not a single harsh word from them. Not
once did they say to me, 'You eat our bread, you drink our water, you
wear our clothing,' They never indulged in such talk: on the contrary,
they placed me in the seat of honor. Yes, so they honored me. And, good
heavens! what was I to them! Neither mother nor sister nor aunt, in no
way related to them. I was a stranger taken from the streets.

"Yes, such God-fearing people were Sarkis and his wife. The poor
wretches believed that all mankind were as pure in heart as they were. I
had even at that time a presentiment that they would not end well, and
often remonstrated with them, begging them to be on their guard with
people. But it was useless for me to talk, for they sang the old songs
again.

"Like a sweet dream my years with the good people passed. Surely pure
mother's milk had nourished them! I knew neither pain nor grief, nor did
I think of what I should eat to-morrow, nor of how I could clothe myself.
As bounteous as the hand of God was their house to me. Twelve months in
every year I sat peacefully at my spinning-wheel and carried on my own
business.

"Once during dog-days--Takusch was at that time fifteen years old and
beginning her sixteenth year--toward evening, according to an old
custom, we spread a carpet in the garden and placed a little table there
for tea. Near us steamed and hissed the clean shining tea-urn, and
around us roses and pinks shed their sweet odors. It was a beautiful
evening, and it became more beautiful when the full moon rose in the
heavens like a golden platter. I remember that evening as clearly as
though it were yesterday. Takusch poured out the tea, and Auntie Mairam,
Sarkis's wife, took a cup; but as she lifted it to her lips it fell out
of her hand and the tea was spilled over her dress.

"My spirits fell when I saw this, for my heart told me that it meant
something bad was coming. 'Keep away, evil; come, good,' I whispered,
and crossed myself in silence. I glanced at Takusch and saw that the
poor child had changed color. Then her innocent soul also felt that
something evil was near! Sarkis and Mairam, however, remained in merry
mood and thought of nothing of that sort. But if you believe not a
thousand times that something is to come, it comes just the same!
Mairam took her napkin and wiped off her dress and Takusch poured her a
fresh cup. 'There will come a guest with a sweet tongue,' said Sarkis,
smiling. 'Mairam, go and put another dress on. You will certainly be
ashamed if anyone comes.'

"'Who can come to-day, so late?' said Mairam, smiling; 'and, beside, the
dress will dry quickly.'

"Scarcely had she spoken when the garden door opened with a rush and a
gentleman entered the enclosure. He had hardly stepped into the garden
when he began to blab with his goat's voice like a windmill.

"'Good-evening. How are you? You are drinking tea? That is very fine for
you. What magnificent air you have here! Good-evening, Mr. Sarkis.
Good-evening, Mrs. Mairam, Good-evening, Hripsime. What are you doing? I
like to drink tea in the open air. What a beautiful garden you have.
Dare I taste these cherries? Well--they are not bad; no, indeed, they
are splendid cherries. If you will give me a napkin full of these
cherries I will carry them home to my wife. And what magnificent
apricots! Mr. Sarkis, do you know what! Sell me your house. No, I will
say something better to you. Come to my store--you know where it
is--yonder in the new two-storied house. Yes, yes, come over there and
we will sit down pleasantly by the desk and gossip about Moscow
happenings.'

"We were as if turned to stone. There are in the world many kinds of
madmen, chatterboxes, and braggarts, but such a creature as this I saw
for the first time in my life, and do you know who it was? Hemorrhoid
Jack.

"Have you heard of him? Have you seen this hostage of God? Hripsime
asked.

"No, I do not know him," I said.

"What! and you live in our city? Is there anyone who does not know the
scoundrel? Go to the brokers, and they will tell you many he has thrown
out of house and home by fraud and hunted out of the city. Have you ever
seen how a bird-catcher lures the birds into his net--how he whistles to
them? That's the way this John gets the people into his traps. To-day he
will act as if altogether stupid. To-morrow he is suddenly shrewd, and
understands the business well. Then he is simple again and a pure lamb.
Now he is avaricious, now generous. And so he goes on. Yes, he slips
around among the people like a fox with his tail wagging, and when he
picks out his victim, he fastens his teeth in his neck and the poor
beggar is lost. He gets him in his debt and never lets him get his
breath between interest payments, or he robs him almost of his last
shirt and lets him run. But see how I run away from my story!

"'Good-evening,' said Sarkis, as soon as he perceived Hemorrhoid Jack,
and offered him his hand. 'What wind has blown you here? Mairam, a cup
of tea for our honored Mr. John.'

"'Mr. Sarkis, do you know why I have come to you?' began Jack. 'The
whole world is full of your praise; everywhere they are talking about
you, and I thought to myself, "I must go there and see what kind of a
man this Sarkis is." And so here I am. Excuse my boldness. I cannot help
it: I resemble in no way your stay-at-home.

"'I am somewhat after the European fashion, you know. Who pleases me, I
visit him quite simply. Present myself and make his acquaintance. Then I
invite him to my house, go again to his and bring my family with me.
Yes, such a fellow am I, let them laugh at me who will,'

"'Oh,' I thought, 'poor Sarkis is already fallen into the net, and his
family with him.'

"Meanwhile, Mairam had poured the tea, placed the cup on a tray, and
Takusch had put it before Jack.

"'Where did you buy the tea?' he began, taking the cup. 'When you want
tea, buy it of me, I pray. You know, I am sure, where my store is. I can
give you every desirable brand, and at low price. The tea that cost two
rubles I will give to you for one ruble ninety-five kopecks. Yes, I will
sell it to you at a loss. Oh, what bad tea you drink!' At the same time
he began to sip and in a moment emptied the cup. 'Be so good as to give
me another cup,' he said. 'In the fresh air one gets an appetite. If I
am to enjoy tea-drinking, let me hitch up my carriage and drive out to
the Monastery Gardens. There, out-of-doors, I drink two or three glasses
and settle for them. Yes, such European customs please me,'

"'May it benefit you!' said Sarkis.

"'Now, now, Mr. Sarkis, are you coming to my house to-morrow?' asked
Hemorrhoid Jack.

"'I will see,' answered Sarkis.

"'What is there to see? If you want to come, come then. We will sit
behind the counter, drink our glass of tea, and chat. Now and then, we
will talk about European affairs, bookkeeping, news, and other things,'

"'All right, I shall surely come. I shall not forget.'

"'Good. And now it is time for me to be gone, for I must make two more
visits to-day,' remarked Hemorrhoid Jack.

"'Do they pay visits at this hour?' responded Sarkis. 'It must be
nearly ten o'clock. Takusch, get a light.'

"Takusch went into the room, and soon returned with a light. Sarkis took
out his watch, and coming near the light said: 'Look, it is already a
quarter to ten.'

"John looked, and at once cried out: 'Oh, Mr. Sarkis, what a magnificent
watch you have! Where did you get it? It appears to me to be a costly
one. Let me see it.'

"'This watch I received as a gift from our late Czar. You know that
several years ago our late Czar visited Taganrog. On this occasion the
people of Taganrog wished to give him a magnificent horse, but they
could not find an appropriate saddle. It happened that I had one that
would do, and when they heard of it, they came to me and told me for
what they needed the saddle. Who would not be ready to make such a
sacrifice for the Czar? Indeed, who would not only sacrifice a costly
saddle (and this one was not worth much), but even his life, gladly, if
need be? Therefore, I immediately hired a wagon, and taking this
extraordinary saddle with me and then on to Taganrog to the governor's.

"'"Your Highness seeks a saddle?" I asked.

"'"Yes, indeed," he answered.

"'"Here it is," said I.

"'"Thank you," he said, and pressed my hand. Then he led me into his own
room. By George! it looked like one in a king's castle. He had me sit
down, served me with tea, invited me to dine at his table: in a word, he
treated me well. At my departure, he took out of a drawer a ring set
with genuine brilliants, gave it to me, and said, "Take this from me as
a gift, and what I receive from the Czar I will give to you also." And
he kept his word. The Czar really came, and they gave him the horse with
my saddle. His Majesty thanked me for it and gave me this watch. Look,
now, what a beautiful one it is!'

"'Yes, truly, it is a pretty thing. Show me it again. I wish to see what
kind of a watch it is,' said Hemorrhoid Jack, examining the watch. 'And
have you the ring by you? Can I see it? Oh, let me see what kind of a
thing it is. I like to see such things, particularly if they come from
persons of high rank.'

"'Is the ring not in the chest of drawers?' said Sarkis, looking around
toward his wife.

"'Yes, I keep it there,' answered Mairam, faintly, for she might well
foresee something evil. 'Who is it routs about in the chest of drawers
in the night?'

"'Good Auntie Mairam,' began Jack, in a wheedling tone, 'I beg of you,
bring the ring, that I may see it. Be so kind! When I see such a rare
thing my heart leaps in my breast with delight. It is true joy for me to
hold such things in my hand and look at them. Bring me the ring, I beg
of you.'

"I looked at him at that moment, and he seemed to me like a veritable
gypsy. Had I not been obliged to consider those present, I should
certainly have spit in his face, so great was my aversion to this
scoundrel. Yes, what the proverb says is true: 'If a rich man becomes
poor, he is scented for years with his wealth; if a poor man grows rich
he stinks of poverty for forty years!' That was the way with this
Hemorrhoid Jack. Oh, if it had been in my power I would have seized the
scoundrel by the collar and thrown him out of the gate. But Sarkis was
not of my temperament; he had a gentle heart and was meek as a lamb. I
went up to him, pushed his elbow, and whispered:

"'What are you doing, you good-natured fool? Why did you let him take
the watch in his hand? And are you going to show the ring, too? You will
see, he has bad intentions. I'll bet my head he will bring misfortune on
yours. Do you not see his greedy eyes? He will ruin you altogether, you
and house, and ground,' I said.

"I had my trouble for my pains. Although a man of ripe years, Sarkis was
nevertheless like a mere boy, believing all people as honest as
himself. Heaven knows! perhaps such a fate was destined for him, and it
was impossible for him to get out of the way of misfortune.

"Mairam brought the ring, and as soon as the scoundrel saw it he grabbed
it from her hand and put it on his finger.

"'What a pretty thing it is!' he said, smirking. 'How it glistens! What
a precious ring! What wonderfully beautiful brilliants! What ought I to
give you for such a ring? Tell me. It pleases me exceedingly. Yes,
without joking, sell it to me. No, we will arrange it otherwise: I will
give you all kinds of goods out of my store at a very low price, yes,
very cheap. May the apoplexy strike me if I make anything out of you! I
will sell you everything at cost price, and if you wish, will give you
ten kopecks rebate on the ruble.'

"'No, my dear sir,' said Mairam, embarrassed. 'Can one sell a souvenir
of the Czar, and one of such great value? We have no occasion to do it.
We are no Jews, to sell off everything, to turn into money whatever
comes into our hands. Are we such poor beggars that we cannot have
something good and valuable in our chest? No, Mr. John, what you say
seems to me to be very singular. You are rich, yet you say that you have
never in your life seen a gold watch nor a ring set with brilliants. It
seems to me a fine new custom that one must immediately have what one
sees. No, dear sir, cast not your eyes upon our property; be content
with what you have.'

"'Mrs. Mairam,' said the scoundrel, smirking, 'why are you so angry? May
one not joke with you?'

"'A fine joke!' I said, putting in my oar. 'You looked at the trees, and
you will at once tear them down. You fell on the fruit like a wolf. You
saw the garden, and at once wanted to buy. Now you want the ring, and
will exchange for it your wares. What sort of tomfoolery are you talking
to us? You are either crazy yourself or will make others so. The apple
falls not far from the stem--one sees that in you.'

"'Aunt Hripsime, why are you so cross? Dare one not jest?'

"'Enough, enough; I understand your joke very well,' I cried
indignantly.

"Yes, we women scolded him right well, but Sarkis said no earthly word.
He sat there dumb and speechless as the stick in my hand. The Lord God
gave him a tongue to speak with, but, dear heaven, he sat there like a
clod and never uttered a syllable. I was like to burst with wrath.

"Then that unscrupulous fellow repeated his speech. 'Don't you
understand a joke? Have you, then, no sense of fun?' He would have
struck us over the ear, and that the fellow called a joke! And how the
creature looked! His face was like a drum-skin. It was as though someone
had wiped off the holy oil from this grimacing mask with a butcher's
sponge. Yes, here you see how people become rich; how they get hold of
other people's property. Conscience hunts the scoundrel to the deuce: he
lets his skin grow thick; feigns outwardly to be dull; if anyone spits
in his face he regards it only as a May-shower; if anyone goes for him
for his rascality, he takes it as a joke. And so the rascals become
rich! One must be born to those things, that's the way I see it.

"If you knew all that we said to this scoundrel's face! We all but
seized him by the collar and threw him out the gate. We belabored him
well, but the fellow stood as if dumb, remained silent, and laughed in
our faces as if we had been speaking to each other and not to him. He
neither took the watch out of his pocket nor the ring from his finger.
Finally, I thought to myself, 'I will wait a little and see what will
happen.'

"And do you know what this bad fellow said to our Sarkis after a short
silence? 'Your watch and ring please me well, old fellow. Let me take
them for a month or two. I will send them to Moscow and have some like
them made for myself. As soon as I get them back I will give them back
to you unhurt.'

"Our stupid Sarkis dared not say no, and he had his way.

"'Take them,' said Sarkis, 'but take care that they do not go astray,
for--'

"'But what are you thinking about?' answered the scoundrel. 'Am I
then--. Where do you buy your calico?' the scoundrel began after a
pause. 'How much do you pay an ell? Where do you buy your linen cloth?
How high does it come by the ell? Where do you buy your silk and satin?'

"Heaven knows what all he prated about, and Sarkis answered him and told
everything just as it really was.

"'We buy our manufactured goods of Yellow Pogos,' and told the prices
of everything without reserve.

"'Have you lost your wits, man?' cried Hemorrhoid Jack. 'Can any man in
his full senses buy anything of Yellow Pogos? Don't you know that he is
a swindler? Why don't you buy your goods of me? I will give them to you
cheaper by half,'

"To this Sarkis answered, 'When I need something again I will buy it of
you.'

"I knew well enough that Sarkis needed nothing at the time, and that he
said this only to get rid of the fellow. But Jack did not or would not
understand, and began again.

"'No, do not put it that way,' he said. 'Come to-morrow and pick out
what pleases you. Do not think for a minute that I wish to make money
out of you. Let the goods lie in your closet, for, between ourselves,
goods were very cheap in Moscow this year, and I cleverly threw out my
line and bought everything at half price. This year is a lucky one for
my customers. If one of them will let his goods lie a little while he
will certainly double his money on them. Yes, buy, I tell you, but not
by the ell. Buy by the piece and you will not regret it, I assure you. I
will send you in the morning five or six different kinds of goods.'

"'But why such haste?' said Mairam. 'My chest of drawers is full of
stuff for clothes, and what I am wearing is still quite new. If we need
anything we will come to you.'

"'What are you talking about, Auntie Mairam?' answered Hemorrhoid Jack.
'Do you not believe me? I tell you, you can get double for the goods,
and if you cannot use everything yourself, give it to your neighbors.
You will do good business. On my word of honor, I swear to you, you will
make double on it. Would I lie for the sake of such a trifle? Whom do
you think you have here? But that is a small matter: I have still
something better to propose. You must take a shipment of tea from me. In
the winter the price will rise, and you can make enormous profits out of
it. To-morrow I will send you one chest--for the present. Well? Now,
really, I will send it to you.'

"'My dear John,' exclaimed Sarkis, 'you must know how risky it is to
begin a new business. I have never handled tea, and the thing appears
to me somewhat daring. I know no customers for tea, and understand
nothing about the goods. If it remains lying by me and spoils--'

"'What empty straw are you threshing now?' cried Hemorrhoid Jack. 'As
soon as the people know that you have tea to sell they will of their own
accord come running into your store. Do you think that you will have to
look up customers? In a week or two not a trace of your tea will remain.
I speak from practical experience. This year little tea has been brought
from Siberia, and what they have brought has almost all fallen into my
hands. Do not think that I seek a buyer in you! God forbid! When I
learned what a good man you were, I thought to myself, "I must give him
a chance to make something. Yes, I want him to make a few kopecks." Do
you think I am in need of purchasers? Now, Sarkis, to-morrow I will send
you the goods. What?'

"'By heaven, I know not how I ought to answer you. Do you know, I am
afraid,' said Sarkis.

"The poor fellow could say nothing farther, for he was such an honest,
good-natured fellow that it was hard for him to refuse anybody anything.
The word 'no' did not exist for him.

"'You are talking nonsense,' began Hemorrhoid Jack anew. 'Give up your
grocery and set up a wholesale business. Manage it according to the
European plan, and you shall see how thankful to me you will be in time.
Do you believe that I am your enemy? Would I advise you badly? Now, the
matter is settled. In the morning I will send you several chests of tea
and put them in your store. You will find out that Hemorrhoid Jack
wishes you no ill. Yes, I will say something even better. You know what
machorka is?--a cheap tobacco that the poor folk smoke. What do you
think of this stuff? Do you think that there is a class of goods more
profitable than this? People make thousands from it, and build
themselves fine houses. And what expenses have they with it? Put the
tobacco in an empty stable or shed and it may lie there. A chest of it
put on sale in your store and I tell you, if you do not make ruble for
ruble out of it, then spit in my face.

"'Last spring most of this stuff was in the hands of a Cossack. The
stupid fellow didn't know what he ought to expect for it, and he needed
money--this gander! I brought him home with me; had brandy, bread, and
ham set out; and, after a little talk back and forth, I bought 400
chests at half price. Half I paid in cash, the rest in eighteen months.
Now, wasn't that a good trade? If I don't make my 3,000 rubles out of
it, I shall be a fool. If you like, I will send you some of these goods.
Put it in your shop or in your shed and let it lie there; it eats and
drinks nothing. Now, I tell you, if you do not make 100 per cent, out of
it, spit in my face. Shall I send you a few chests of it?'

"'By heaven, I cannot go into it,' answered Sarkis. 'Do you know, I am
afraid to undertake a new trade? If the stuff does not go off or spoils
on my hands or the price falls, what shall I do? You know that our
capital consists of only a few kopecks. We spend as we earn. If I run
after the rubles and lose the kopecks thereby, who will give me
something to eat?' concluded the poor wretch, as if he scented some
evil.

"But could he free himself from that Satan of a Hemorrhoid Jack? Like a
leech he had fastened himself on his neck and demanded that he should
buy the goods.

"'Now, Sarkis,' he began again, 'the thing is settled. I am to send you
in the morning manufactured goods, tea, and tobacco. Well?'

"'I will see; I must turn it over in my mind,' stammered Sarkis. He
wanted to be rid of him, but he knew not how to begin.

"'What does that "I will see!" mean? Nothing,' the other continued. 'You
may see a thousand times and you will not find again such good goods and
such a favorable opportunity. I speak from experience. You must not let
this chance slip by or you will throw gold out of the window with your
own hands. I am talking about great gains, great profits; do you think
it is a joke?'

"'We shall see,' said poor Sarkis. 'We have many days before us. Yes, we
will surely do something.'

"'What you do now is not worth much,' cried Hemorrhoid Jack. 'I see that
if I leave the thing to your decision, in five years you will not have
reached one. Isn't that true? In the morning I will send you one load of
goods and the rest later.'

"With these words he seized his cap, quickly made his adieus, and went
away.

"It was nearly one o'clock; Mairam and Takusch were sitting there asleep
and I also was very sleepy, but I fought against my sleepiness to watch
that devil of a Hemorrhoid Jack. Mankind can be a priest to
mankind--also a Satan!

"When he was in the street, Sarkis said to me: 'What a wonderful
conversation we have had this evening. Of all this man has said, I
understand nothing. His purposes are not exactly bad, but I don't know
how it happens--my heart presages something of evil.'

"I was just going to answer him when suddenly I sneezed; but only once.

"'See now,' I said to Sarkis; 'I was right in saying he was going to
trick you. Now it has proved itself.'

"'If one sneezes only once by day that is a bad sign, but at night it
means something good,' he interrupted me.

"'Oh,' I said, 'do not, I pray, give me lessons; don't teach me what a
sneeze is the sign of. Whether it is in the daytime or at night it is a
bad sign, and if one just made up his mind to do anything, he should let
it drop.'

"Sarkis would not give in that I was right, but began to chatter about a
sneeze at night being a good thing. I said no and he said yes, and so it
went on until I finally gave it up."

"'Oh, 'I said, 'have your own way, but when misfortune comes to you do
not blame me for it.'

"'I have really begun nothing,' he observed. 'That was only a talk. We
have only discussed something. I have really no desire to try my hand
with the tea and tobacco.'

"That he said to me, but heaven only knows! perhaps in his thoughts he
was already counting the thousands he hoped to earn. Money has such
power that my blessed grandmother always said that the devil had
invented it. He had racked his brains to find a way to lead mankind into
wickedness and did not succeed until he invented money. Then he was
master of our souls. How many men money has deprived of reason! Sarkis
was not of so firm a mind that he would be able to stand out against
such rosy hopes.

"The next day, early in the morning, the shop-boy came running into the
house in a great hurry, and said that nine cart-loads of goods were
standing at the gate. The man who was in charge of them was asking for
Sarkis.

"'What kind of an invasion is this!' cried Sarkis. 'I must go and see
who it is. Perhaps the loads are not for me at all. God knows for whom
they are!'

"He went out, and we after him. Although I had not seen the loads of
goods, I knew the whole story in a moment.

"Before we had reached the gate a man met us and said:

"'My master sends you greeting and begs you to take these nine
wagon-loads of goods and sign for them.'

"'Who is your master?' we asked, all together.

"'Hemorrhoid Jack. Don't you know him? He was at your house last
evening.'

"I was ready to burst with anger.

"'You fellow,' I said, 'who told your master to send these goods here?
Have we ordered anything? Turn at once and get out of the room.'

"'Is that so!' said the man. 'After a thing is settled you can't take
back your word. Where shall I put the goods now?'

"'Where you brought them from, take them back there!'

"'The coach-house is closed.'

"'That does not concern us; that is your master's affair.'

"'If he were here I would tell him, but he is not here.'

"'Where is he then?' I asked.

"'He has gone to Taganrog.'

"'When did he start?'

"'About two hours ago. He will not be back for two months, for he has
very important business in the courts.'

"It could not be doubted now that this villain of a John had already
begun his tricks; but that innocent Sarkis did not see through his
devilish purposes. Had I been in his place I would have run immediately
to the City Hall and told every detail of the business, and the thing
would have come out all right. But Sarkis was not the man for that.

"'Well, if that is the case drive into the yard and unload. The goods
cannot stand in the street. When Jack comes back from Taganrog I will
arrange things with him in some way.'

"The wagons came into the yard with a clatter and the driver unloaded
the goods and piled them up in the coach-house. I stood as if turned to
stone and silently watched this move in their game. 'What will come of
it?' I thought to myself.

"Ah, but I would rather have died than see what did come of it!

"When the goods were unloaded the clerk demanded a receipt, which Sarkis
gave him without hesitation, whereupon the clerk went away satisfied.

"Later we heard that Jack had not gone to Taganrog at all, and had only
ordered the clerk to say so.

"That same day when we were sitting at dinner, Sarkis turned to me and
said: 'See, Hripsime, your sneeze has cheated you. Did you not say that
Jack was going to play a trick on me? You see something very different
has happened. This forenoon four or five persons came into my shop who
wished to buy tea and tobacco. I told them the matter was not yet
settled; that we had not agreed on the price; as soon as the agreement
was made I would begin business. Do you see? I have not advertised that
I was going to handle the goods, yet everybody knows it and one customer
after another comes into my store. How will it be when the goods are put
on sale?--they will fight for them. It will give me a great deal to do;
I must only go to John and settle on the terms. Yes, little mother, such
a wholesale trade is not to be despised; the wholesaler can often make
more money in a moment than the retailer makes in two years. Yes, my
love, in business that is really so!'

"'God grant that it may be so!' I said, and nothing more was said about
Jack.

"Several months passed by and November came. One evening we were sitting
together chatting comfortably when the door opened softly and an old
woman entered. I knew immediately that she was a matchmaker. In three
days Takusch was betrothed to a plain, middle-rate man. The wedding was
to take place the next winter on her father's name-day. As a dowry her
parents promised 3,000 rubles--1,500 in cash, and the rest in jewels.

"Tagusch was at that time fifteen years old. Although I had lived in her
parents' house I had never looked right attentively at her face,
scarcely knew, in fact, whether she was beautiful or ugly; but when on
her betrothal day she put on a silk dress and adorned herself as is
customary at such a festive time; when she had put on her head a satin
fez with gold tassels and a flower set with brilliants, I fairly gaped
with admiration. I am almost eighty years old, but in all my life I have
never seen a more beautiful girl.

"I am no dwarf, but she was a few inches taller than I. She was slender
as a sweet-pine tree. Her hands were delicate and soft, her fingers were
like wax. Hair and eyebrows were black, and her face like snow. Her
cheeks were tinged rose-red, and her glance! that I cannot forget even
to this day. It was brighter than a genuine Holland diamond. Her
eyelashes were so long that they cast shadows on her cheeks. No, such a
charming creature I have never seen in dreams, let alone reality. She
was--God forgive my sins--the pure image of the Mother of God in our
church; yes, she was even more beautiful. When I looked at her I could
not turn my eyes away again. I gazed at her and could not look enough.
On the betrothal day I sat in the corner of the room with my eyes nailed
on Takusch.

"'How sorry I am,' thought I, 'that you with that angel face are to be
the wife of a commonplace man, to be the mother of a family and go into
a dirty, smoky kitchen. Shall your tender hands become hard as leather
with washing, ironing, kneading, and who knows what housework beside?
Shall your angel cheeks fade from the heat of the oven and your eyes
lose their diamond-shine from sewing?' Yes, so thought I, and my heart
bled within me for this girl who ought to wear a queen's crown and live
in a palace. Surely, if this rose maiden had lived in olden times she
would certainly have married a king or a king's son. And the poor thing
stood there like a lamb, for she did not understand what life was. She
thought marriage would be nothing more than a change in her
dwelling-place. Oh, but I was sorry that evening that she was going to
marry only an ordinary, but still eligible, young man, and yet it would
have been a great good fortune for her if this had come to pass. Had we
thought at that time that great misfortunes were in store for the poor
child! And that cursed Hemorrhoid Jack was the cause of them all!

"That betrothal day was the last happy day of the poor wretches. I
never afterward saw smiles on their faces, for from that day their
circumstances grew worse and worse and their business became very bad.
They lost house and ground, moved about for several months from one
rented house to another, until finally they disappeared from the city.

"The day after the betrothal Hemorrhoid Jack sent word to Sarkis by his
clerk that Sarkis must pay 2,700 rubles for the tobacco and tea and 184
rubles for the manufactured goods. I have forgotten to tell you that
among the latter were old-fashioned dress-goods, taxed cloth, linen,
satin, and some silk. The clerk also said that if Sarkis did not pay the
184 rubles the ring and watch would be retained.

"Poor Sarkis was completely dazed.

"'Have I bought the goods?' he asked.

"'Certainly you have bought them,' answered the unscrupulous clerk.
'Otherwise you would not have sold a chest of tea and a bale of tobacco.
Beside, the coat your boy is wearing was made from our cloth.'

"This was true. On the third day after receiving the goods, Sarkis had
sold a bale of tobacco and a chest of tea, and had cut off several yards
of cloth. It was very singular that in the course of three months Sarkis
had not once caught sight of Hemorrhoid Jack to call him to account for
the delivery of the goods. He had been several times to his house, where
they said, 'He is at the store.' At the store they said Jack was at
home. It was very evident that he wished to defraud Sarkis. After much
talk back and forth the matter came into the courts, and since Sarkis
had sold part of the goods and had given a receipt for them, he had to
pay the sum demanded.

"For several months past business had been going very badly with the
poor fellow and he could not raise the required sum, so he had to give
up his property. First they drove the poor man out of his house and
emptied his store and his storehouse. Then they sold the tobacco and the
tea, for which no one would give more than fifty rubles, for both were
half rotten. The store and all that was in it were then auctioned off
for a few hundred rubles, and finally the house was offered for sale. No
one would buy it, for among our people the praiseworthy custom rules
that they never buy a house put up at auction till they convince
themselves that the owner sells it of his own free-will. The household
furniture was also sold, and Sarkis became almost a beggar, and was
obliged, half naked, to leave his house, with his wife and children.

"I proposed that they should occupy my house, but he would not have it.
'From to-day the black earth is my dwelling-place,' he said, and rented
a small house at the edge of the town near where the fields begin.

"When the neighbors found out the treachery of Hemorrhoid Jack, they
were terribly angry, and one of them threw a note into his yard in which
was written: that if he took possession of poor Sarkis's house they
would tear or burn it down. That was just what John wished, and he
immediately sent carpenters to tear down the house and stable and then
he sold the wood.

"At this time I became very sick and lay two months in bed. When I got
up again I thought to myself, 'I must go and visit the poor wretches!' I
went to their little house, but found the door locked and the windows
boarded up. I asked a boy, 'My child, do you know where the people of
this house are?' 'Two weeks ago they got into a wagon and drove away,'
answered the lad. 'Where are they gone?' I asked. 'That I don't know,'
he said.

"I would not have believed it, but an old woman came up to me on the
street, of her own accord, and said:

"'They all got into a wagon and have moved away into a Russian village.'

"What the village was called she could not tell me, and so every trace
of them was lost.

"Many years later a gentleman came from Stavropol to our city, who gave
me some news of the poor wretches. They had settled in a Cossack
village--he told me the name, but I have forgotten--where at first they
suffered great want; and just as things were going a little better with
them, Mairam and Sarkis died of the cholera and Takusch and Toros were
left alone. Soon after, a Russian officer saw Takusch and was greatly
pleased with her. After a few months she married him. Toros carried on
his father's business for a time, then gave it up and joined the army.
So much I found out from the gentleman from Stavropol.

"Some time later I met again one who knew Takusch. He told me that she
was now a widow. Her husband had been a drunkard, spent his whole nights
in inns, often struck his poor wife, and treated her very badly. Finally
they brought him home dead. Toros's neck had been broken at a horse-race
and he was dead. He said also that Takusch had almost forgotten the
Armenian language and had changed her faith.

"'That is the history of the Vacant Yard."

Translated by E.B. Collins, B.S.