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Updated: June 7, 2025
ROMANO, a painter, frank and simple, with the pride of genius. MULEY HASSAN, a Moor of Tunis, an abandoned character, with a physiognomy displaying an original mixture of rascality and humor. A GERMAN of the ducal body-guard, of an honest simplicity, and steady bravery.
You do not believe in Allah, Muley, you are a Kaffir." "I beg your pardon," Edgar said; "we and you worship the same God. We call him God, and you call him Allah; but it is the same. Your Prophet acknowledges Moses and Christ to be prophets.
"How lucky some people are!" said old Mr. Crow. He was talking to the Muley Cow, in the pasture. And though she didn't specially care for his company, she was curious enough to ask him what he meant. "I was just thinking," Mr. Crow explained, "I was just thinking what a hard life I lead, and how I have to hunt around to find whatever I can to eat. In winter it's usually poor pickings for me.
So it wasn't long before he was enjoying buffalo hunts in the back pasture. With old dog Spot along it was a lively game and most exciting. The Muley Cow found it exciting too. The first time that Johnnie tried to lasso her with a length of his mother's clothesline she started for home on a lumbering gallop. And Johnnie chased her until he remembered that it was bad for a cow to run.
Crow's permission, the Muley Cow went on stretching her legs as much as she pleased. She jumped the pasture fence; and she jumped it back again. And when she seemed about to stop Billy Woodchuck whispered to her, "You may as well keep a-stretching them. Keep a-jumping!
His father, one of the Vanegas of Cordova, had been captured in infancy and brought up as a Moslem.* From him sprang the vizier, Abul Cacim Vanegas, and his brother, Reduan Vanegas, likewise high in rank in the court of Muley Abul Hassan, and they had about them numerous and powerful connections, all basking in court favor.
And one fat cowbird remarked with a smirk that it was too bad they hadn't brought the children along to help. The others grinned; for the cowbird youngsters were all being cared for by other birds who had big enough families of their own without looking after outsiders. But they didn't know that the Muley Cow had heard any stories about that.
The Muley Cow acted very grumpy. "Don't be impertinent!" she snapped. "Excuse us, please!" Aunt Polly Woodchuck said to the Muley Cow. "We heard you were wearing a poke; and we wanted to see it. You know, I always wear a poke in summer. In fact, I put on my best one before leaving home." The Muley Cow stared at her in a puzzled fashion. And at last the truth dawned upon her.
So without any further delay we set off up the ridge I had started to cross that morning. Schwartz lagged, sulky as a muley cow, but we managed to keep him with us. At the top of the ridge we took our bearings for the next deep bay.
Now the novice had found out this for himself, already. He never, for instance, believed the accounts which his master gave of the accidents and conspiracies which had led to his being defeated three times in the ring. However, as Skene had won fifteen battles, his next remark was undeniable. "Men fight none the worse for being liars. Sam Ducket bet Ebony Muley in twenty minutes."
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