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Updated: June 26, 2025
"May the grave of the rascal's mother he defiled! to offer to cudgel the vice-gerent of the Prophet." "The caliph was in disguise, and Yussuf knew him not," replied Mustapha. "Those who threaten me in disguise, will find that no excuse, we swear by our beard," replied the pacha. "Proceed Menouni."
"She was, that very evening, your sublime highness." "Allah be praised!" rejoined the pacha. "Mustapha, let Menouni know what it is to tell a story to a pacha, even though it is rather a long one, and I thought the princess would never have been married." And the pacha rose and waddled to his harem.
"Menouni, you are quite right," observed the pacha. "Proceed." "Fortunate is your slave to stand in the presence of so much wisdom," continued Menouni, "for I was in doubt: the splendour of your presence had startled my memory, as the presence of the caravan doth the zebra foal of the desert."
Then I would say, that it was absurd to make such a mountain of a mole-hill." "Very true, Mustapha. This princess will never be married; so proceed, good Menouni."
"Menouni, it is the pleasure of the pacha that you proceed." "Your slave obeys. Your sublime perspicuity is but too well acquainted with geography ?" "Not that I know of. Hath he ever left his slippers at our threshold, Mustapha?" "I suspect," replied Mustapha, "that he goes all over the world, and therefore he must have been here. Proceed, Menouni, and ask not such questions.
"Menouni, you are quite right," observed the pacha. "Proceed." "Fortunate is your slave to stand in the presence of so much wisdom," continued Menouni, "for I was in doubt; the splendour of your presence had startled my memory, as the presence of the caravan doth the zebra foal of the desert."
Amidst the cries of "Long live Acota, Souffraria's legitimate king." "Legitimate. Pray, good Menouni, what may that word mean?" "Legitimate, your sublime highness, implies that a king and his descendants are chosen by Allah to reign over a people." "Well, but I don't see that Allah had much to do with the choice of Acota."
"I did but presume to put the question," replied Menouni, whose voice was soft and silvery as a flute on a summer's silent eve, "as, to perfectly understand the part of the world from which my tale has been transmitted, I thought that a knowledge of that science was required: but I have eaten dirt, and am covered with shame at my indiscretion, which would not have occurred, had it not been that the sublime sultan, when I last had the honour to narrate the story, was pleased to interrupt me, from his not being quite convinced that the parts of the world were known to him.
The pacha put aside his coffee, and drank a large draught. "God is great; drink, Mustapha," said he, handing him the bottle. Mustapha followed the example of the pacha. "May it please your highness," said Mustapha, "I have without a man, who they say hath stories to recount more delightful than those of Menouni.
"I am here in obedience to the will of the pacha," replied the man in a most musical voice, as he salaamed low. "What does his highness require of his slave Menouni?" "His highness requires a proof of thy talent, and an opportunity to extend his bounty."
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