Front matter (continued 2)

"Seated about the slope which led downwards on every side to a broken tomb were gigantic figures in white robes that floated about them like mist, so that only sometimes he could see their solemn faces.

"From the tomb came slowly a long procession of Ghouls and Vampires and Afrites of hideous shapes, such as men see in dreams, while all the air and the ground seemed to be alive with a myriad of little winged forms who hovered about like butterflies.

"At last there was silence, when Yussef suddenly appeared before the tallest of the Genii, and miaoued frightfully.

"Then the Genie said in a mild great voice, 'What would you of your brethren?'

"'The man,' said Yussef, 'who has mocked my fallen estate and stolen my love from me is here awaiting judgment.'

"When Mustapha heard these words he was ready to die with fear, but his limbs refused to bear him away and he was forced to support himself by grasping a tree.

"'Oh King,' cried Yussef, 'Let him be brought to thee.'

"'Be it so!' said the Genie.

"At this two fearful-looking Afrites leaped into the air, and with one swoop of their clawed wings alighted beside Mustapha. Then they seized him and thrust him into the circle before the cloudy form of the King of the Genii who thus addressed him.

"'It is not given us to slay, but that thou shalt no more trouble us we order thee to become a gourd, and as we may not sentence any to an endless fate it shall be that when it pleaseth Allah to turn thee inside out thou shalt then only assume again the form of man.'

"'It is well,' cried Yussef. 'Thanks, oh King!'

"At these words Mustapha fainted. When he recovered he found himself hanging on a vine near by, and presently discovered that he was a huge green gourd.

"After this many days fled away, and Mustapha the gourd grew bigger and bigger, and at last began to ripen and turn yellow.

"Every night as he hung on the vine he saw the strange midnight meetings of the Genii and Ghouls and Afrites. All the wonderful things he heard and saw no one will ever know, for he saw their wild feasts and dances, and heard music such as before no mortal ears had ever listened to.

"At length one warm summer morning two farmers came by on the way to market.

"'Bismillah!' cried one, as he saw the great gourd Mustapha. 'What a monstrous gourd!'

"'Let us take it with us and sell it,' said the second.

"Thus saying he took a knife from his girdle and cut the stem by which Mustapha hung. This caused him so much pain that he cried aloud,

"'What's that?' said the farmer. 'The gourd speaks! It is alive!'

"Upon this he pricked the gourd with his knife. At this Mustapha exclaimed, 'Don't!'

"'Mahomet!' said the farmer. 'The thing is enchanted. It will fetch us a fortune.'

"Shortly afterwards they carried the gourd to the market. Here they made a goodly fortune by running pins into Mustapha that he might cry out for the amusement of the by-standers.

"Before long all Bagdad flocked to see and hear this wonderful gourd, and at last an officer of the Caliph's household arrived, payed a great sum for the gourd, and putting it in a basket, carried it away to the Palace.

"By and by Mustapha found himself in a superb room of the Palace, where, surrounded by her ladies, the Princess lay upon a couch.

"Suddenly Mustapha the gourd as he lay in his basket heard the voice of his beloved Lelie who was fanning the Princess.

"This so moved poor Mustapha that he cried aloud,

"'Allah! I hear my love!' and so saying rolled from the basket and fell at Lelie's feet.

"'Mahomet!' cried the Princess. 'The thing is bewitched! take it away!'

"But as for Lelie the words were as sweet music to her, and seizing the gourd she placed it tenderly in the basket and carried it to her room. Here she implored it with tears to speak again, but in vain; so that at last she was forced to leave it and return to the Princess.

"Soon after she had gone Mustapha was aware of a rose-colored cloud in the room, out of which grew into shape the form of a huge Genie which thus addressed him.

"'Know, frail mortal, that I am your guardian spirit. I have heard with pity of your sad fate and am come to give you a chance for life again. Perhaps what I shall do for you may render your position better. Unluckily I cannot give to you once more your mortal shape.'

"With these words the figure inclined towards him gravely and touched his yellow cheek. He shuddered and lost consciousness.

"What next was his amazement to find himself standing in the shop of Harim, the merchant. Presently he began to look at himself with curious care. He had a gold head like that of a bird, with ruby eyes. His neck was of satin wood, long and slim, while his clothes which were stiffened with whalebone and wire, resembled petticoats upside down.

"'Allah il Allah!' cried he, 'What an existence!'

"Just then a Dervish looking at him asked the merchant, 'What is that?'

"'It is,' answered he, 'a Frankish device which the men in Frangistan carry to keep off the rain. Their women are only allowed to carry smaller ones, so they make up for that by bearing them about in fair as well as wet weather.'

"'A device of Eblis!' exclaimed the Dervish, and muttering a verse of the Koran, walked gravely away.

"By and by came the grand Purveyor of the Caliph. He was seeking new and curious things for the Princess, who was ill and refused to eat so that day after day she became more feeble.

"'Ah!' said the Purveyor, 'This is a Frank tent. I saw them when I was Envoy to the court of Charlemagne.'

"At this Mustapha blushed, for the officer seized him and began to expand his skirts so that his leg, for he had but one, was alarmingly exposed.

"Very soon the Purveyor, having paid a good price, took Mustapha away to the Palace where he explained the uses of this portable tent.

"'This,' said he, 'Is what the Franks, whom Allah confound! call an umbrella, and the female of the thing they term a parasol.'

"'I shall need it not,' said the Princess Ellera. 'No sun will shine on me any more. On me no rain will fall. I shall die if I find nothing that I can eat.'

"'Take it Lelie,' she cried, 'As thou hast lost thy gourd, take it.'

"Upon this Lelie took Mustapha away and placed him in a quiet corner of her room.

"Meanwhile some days went by, and all the cooks tried in vain to please the sick Princess. All day long an army of slaves went past her bed, each bearing some rare dish or some luscious fruit, but still alas! in vain; so that at length the doctors decided that if she did not eat within a day she would surely die.

"Lelie, who was in great distress, left the Princess and went to her own room to weep alone. At last she arose to go out into the garden, thinking that perhaps the Princess might be tempted by a rose-leaf salad.

"As she walked past Mustapha he cried aloud, 'Take me.'

"'This is queer,' said she, but when the words were repeated she clutched the Frankish toy and ran out into the garden. Here she wandered long, but as evening fell she suddenly saw that a storm had gathered.

"Before she could reach the Palace, a wild gust of wind caught in Mustapha's skirts and nearly tore him from her hand. As she struggled the wind expanded his petticoats, and at last crack went the wires, and then what do you think?

"Mustapha was turned inside out, and the umbrella was a man once more.

"In a moment he explained everything, but after he had kissed her twice she began to sob, for now she knew that he had escaped one evil fate only to light upon another as fearful.

"'Ah!' she cried, 'a man! You, a soldier, in the gardens of the Palace! You will be put to death at once.'

"'No!' he answered, after thinking a little. 'Not if I can save the Princess. Let us go to the Caliph and confess all. Meanwhile have no fears.'

"Lelie at last gave her consent, and with trembling steps she left him, and seeking the Princess related their strange story.

"In a moment all was confusion. A man in the harem!

"'Bowstrings and sacks!' cried the captain of the guard, as he hurried Mustapha before the Caliph.

"'Wretch!' said Al Raschid the Caliph, 'Who art thou?'

"'A soldier,' said Mustapha.

"'Let him die!' cried Al Raschid.

"'Oh Caliph,' answered Mustapha, 'In the land of the Genii it was given me once to learn secrets of the vile Franks, wherewith it may be that I can save thy daughter the Princess.'

"'Thou dost lie like unto a rusty weathercock,' said the Caliph, 'But that none may say I am unjust, take this man to the kitchen. Let him do his best, and if he fail have him strangled instantly.'

"'It is well said,' replied Mustapha.

"Very soon he was left alone in the great kitchen of the Palace, while all the strange things he had seen at the feasts of the Genii came back to his mind.

"Presently he sought about him among the stores of provisions, and took from a basket those striped apples which grow by the brooks of Alkeldrina.

"These he pared deftly and set each within a cup of wheaten dough, such as only the Caliph's farms can furnish. Therein he placed also the golden orange-peel and the spices of distant Borneo. Lastly, he sprinkled it within and without with the aromatic sugar of Turkan, and hanging each apple thus prepared in a silken net carefully cooked them.

"When they were ready he placed them upon golden dishes, and threw over each a hail of snowy sugar and fragrant cinnamon, covering all with a handful of almond blossoms.

"Then he called the guard, and with scimetars crossed over his head he was allowed to carry his dish to the Princess. As she looked languidly upon it he shook off the blossoms.

"'Then,' said the Princess, 'These be the roses of Paradise which I do smell.'

"At these words he knelt down and offered the dish to the lady. Wonderful to tell the Princess called for a silver fork and ate up the whole of the apples so greedily that she scalded her throat in the most dreadful way.

"But between every mouthful she blessed poor Mustapha as the king of cooks, and from that instant she recovered so quickly as to disgust all the doctors, who said Mustapha was a quack, and went away.

"Of course he married Lelie, and had a patent for making this wonderful dish, and was created Lord Marquis of Apple-butter and Duke of Dumplings, and lived merrily all his days."

"That's a good story," cried the spiders.

"Glad you like it," said Fuz-Buz. "Now if you please I will sleep, as I am tired."

In this pleasant way the days went by until Fuz-buz had told them nine hundred and ninety-nine stories.

On this last evening he overheard the spiders talking as he lay tied by the leg in a deep dark crack of the apple tree where he slept.

"My children," said the old spider, "After Fuz-Buz has told us one more story we will eat him. It will be best to wait until after dark, and then seize him on a sudden and kill him; for he is a very strong fly, and may give me trouble."

They all agreed to this excepting the youngest, who said it would be a shame to serve him so, and that they ought to let him go.

But Mrs. Grabem replied, "You know nothing of house-keeping my dear. Go to sleep and hold your tongue."

When Fuz-Buz overheard all this he was scared to death. All next day he was so sick that he could not even tell the shortest story.

At night-fall when the family had gone to their den, he sat on the tree near his cosy little crack and tried to gnaw the web which held him.

Unluckily it was too tough. When he was in despair who should hum by but a huge Bee.

"Halloa!" said he, "What's wrong with you?"

"Sir!" replied Fuz-Buz, "I am tied by the leg to this web, and am to be eaten to-night by a cruel monster of a spider who lives near, and who will overhear you if you do not speak in a low voice."

"Who's afraid?" said the Bee. "Which leg is it?"

"This," answered Fuz-Buz.

"Pshaw!" cried the Bee, and with that he twisted the web about his legs and gave a jump. Snap went the line and Fuz-buz was free once more. Never a fly was so glad as he.

"Sir!" he said, "I am only sorry that you have not had the honour to slay this vile spider. Now if you were to slip into this crack where I sleep, you would have a fine chance, because when Mrs. Grabem comes to eat me you could give her a pleasing surprise."

"That's a rather jolly notion," answered the Bee. So he went down on the ground, and after sharpening his sting on a smooth pebble, thrust himself deep into the crack where Fuz-Buz was wont to sleep.

But as for Fuz-Buz the fly, he sat on a limb above and looked on. After a little, when it was dark or nearly so, out came Mrs. Grabem slowly, and crawling over her web went down into the crack to murder poor innocent Fuz-Buz. Presently she cried aloud,

"Oh! I'm dead!" which was true in a moment, for Sir Bee had run his long sword straight through her, and she had tumbled off the tree as dead as could be.

At the sound of her voice all the young spiders ran out, and in a moment they saw Sir Bee with his quick sword. In a twinkling he stabbed them one after another, until he came to the youngest. Then Fuz-Buz said,

"Halloa! my friend, let this one go, for he was the only one who did not desire to kill me."

"Sir!" cried the youngest spider, "I do not wish to live after you have killed my mother and all my brothers and sisters. Take that, sir!"

So saying he dealt the Bee such a crack that he was forced to stab him like the rest, and there at last was the end of all of them.

As for Fuz-Buz, he said "Well, it's one spider less, and so many flies more. Spiders are of no use and flies are."

Meanwhile Sir Bee wiped his sword and took up his bag of honey, feeling that he had done a clever day's work, while Fuz-Buz flew away to Spain, and never could be brought to tell anybody a story long or short up to the end of his happy life.