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"That grieves me. But, fortunately, I have in the house an experienced apothecary who can apply leeches and relieve thee of foul blood." "No, no," pleaded the unhappy Abi Fressah, finding his tongue at this dismal prospect. "Perchance a glass of rare cordial will revive thee," said Ben Maslia, taking one of the bottles from the table.
"I have no business of consequence to transact this afternoon. I could not pay thee a better compliment than to spend it examining thy treasures." "Of a certainty thou couldst not," assented the other, to his great glee. "Then let us proceed," said Abi Fressah. So they set out, Ben Maslia still continuing his glowing account of his wonderful house.
The liquid was bitter in the extreme, the taste it left in his mouth most horrid. "Now I know I have been hoodwinked," he screamed in rage, and he dashed toward the outer door. "Stay, stay what ails thee?" cried Ben Maslia. "Stop, stop," echoed the servants, as Abi Fressah commenced to run.
Abi Fressah thanked him cordially for his consideration, but his pain was intense when Ben Maslia insisted on giving him fullest particulars of all the dishes he would enjoy. "Yes, yes," Abi kept saying, but Ben Maslia stayed his interruptions. "Thy dwelling is far from the center of the city," Abi Fressah managed to say at last.
"That is a virtue," commented Ben Maslia, and he followed it up with the advice given to him by a renowned physician that a house was healthiest when it stood alone, away from the busy haunts of men. To all this and more, Abi Fressah was compelled to listen.
Abi Fressah grew impatient when Ben Maslia began to describe each room in detail, his hunger increased when, in glowing words, his friend painted the gorgeous dining-room, and his mouth watered at the information that the cellars were stocked with a thousand bottles of wine. "Blessings on thee and thy wine-cellar and thy house," murmured Abi Fressah, when he could get in a word.
And in that city, too, I became possessed of my third servant, Shelishi there, a true-born son of the Holy Land and the keeper of my camels. Our meeting was an adventure...." Abi Fressah was not listening. This was beyond endurance. He felt that soon he would collapse in a faint on the floor. And still Ben Maslia droned on.
And so it came to pass that when Abi Fressah was standing in the bazaar at the hour of the mid-day meal and eagerly scanning the crowd to discover some acquaintance whom he could induce to ask him to dinner, he saw Ben Maslia, one of the wealthiest and most generous of men in Bagdad.
Abi Fressah managed to gasp the word "Yes," and Rosh held a goblet into which Ben Maslia poured a rich, red fluid. "Drink this," he said kindly, holding the cup to his guest's lip. "At last," thought Abi Fressah, as he opened his mouth. The next moment he sprang from his stool with astonishing agility, spluttering and cursing.
His father was likewise in the service of my sainted father, and his grandfather.... But let that suffice. I would not imprison thy appetite longer. Sheni that is the second servant, the big black Nubian there bring hither the first dish." Sheni took up one of the dishes from the table and placed himself by the side of his master. "Stands he not well?" asked Ben Maslia, in admiring tones.
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