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Updated: May 21, 2025
The heroes of Homer and of Virgil seemed to me very bloodless, boneless creatures after my kings and wizards out of Mr. Galland's book; even Ulysses, who was a thrifty, shifty fellow enough, with some touch of the sea-captain in him, was not a patch upon my hero, Sindbad of Bagdad, from whose tale I believe the Greek fellow stole half his fancies, and those the better half.
That was your chair, as I remember," said Westerling after indicating to François that he might go, "and this was mine." But the teapot was not Mrs. Galland's it belonged to the staff. "This is different," observed Marta, touching her finger-tip to the coat of arms of the Grays on the side of a cup.
Her head buried in her mother's lap, she was sobbing. It was many years since Mrs. Galland had known Marta to sob and she was glad that Marta had not forgotten how. She believed in the value of the law of overflow. When Marta looked up with eyes still moist, it was with the joyous satisfaction that begins a confession. Not once during the recital did the smile fade from Mrs. Galland's lips.
Those severe middle-class parents who give their daughters, for New Year's presents, M. Galland's "Arabian Nights," with illustrations of the amorous adventures of the Caliph of Bagdad, would find such a romance as mine quite too "strong," simply because the scene is not laid in Persia, or at Samarcand.
Coote finds the two envious sisters to be an enormous favorite in Italy and Sicily, being found in Pitre, Berti, Imbriani, Nerucci, and Comparetti. The story of the girl is sometimes told separately as a fiaba. The possibility of Galland's version having passed into the East from Europe does not seem to have been considered till I suggested it in my Introduction to the Arabian Nights.
The great event of my childhood was my father's gift to me of an English version of Monsieur Galland's book, 'The Arabian Nights' Entertainments. Then the tinkle of the shop bell assumed a new significance.
He beat a tattoo on the casing; no answer. "Gustave!" he called; no answer. Now he entered and touched Feller's shoulder. "Hello, Lanny!" exclaimed Feller, rising and setting a chair and breaking into a stream of talk. "That's the way they all have to do when they want to attract my attention. I heard your voice and Miss Galland's having an argument in the garden, I should say.
He never quite got his deserts; no good man does in politics." "You are better than great," said Marta. "You soothe; you help; you have what shall I call it? the wisdom of mothers! Minna has it, too." She ran a tattoo of kisses along the velvety skin of Mrs. Galland's arm. Mrs. Galland was blushing, and out of the depths of her eyes bubbled a little fountain of stars.
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