"Let me hear you sing," said the gardener.

The Khoja began to trill like a bird; but the noise he made was so uncouth that the man burst out laughing.

"What kind of a song is this?" said he. "I never heard a nightingale's note like that before."

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE KHOJA SINGS.]

"It is not the voice of a native songster," said the Khoja demurely, "but the foreign nightingale sings so."

_Tale_ 16.--The Khoja's Donkey and The Woollen Pelisse.

One day the Khoja mounted his donkey to ride to the garden, but on the way there he had business which obliged him to dismount and leave the donkey for a short time.

When he got down he took off his woollen pelisse, and throwing it over the saddle, went about his affairs. But he had hardly turned his back when a thief came by who stole the woollen pelisse, and made off with it.

When the Khoja returned and found that the pelisse was gone, he became greatly enraged, and beat the donkey with his stick. Then, dragging the saddle from the poor beast's back, he put it on his own shoulders, crying, "Find my pelisse, you careless rascal, and then you shall have your saddle again!"

_Tale_ 17.--A Ladder To Sell.

There was a certain garden into which the Khoja was desirous to enter, but the gate was fastened, and he could not.

One day, therefore, he took a ladder upon his shoulder, and repaired to the place, where he put the ladder against the garden-wall, and having climbed to the top, drew the ladder over, and by this means descended into the garden.

As he was prying about in came the gardener.

"Who are you?" said he to the Khoja. "And what do you want?"

"I sell ladders," replied the Khoja, running hastily back to the wall, and throwing the ladder once more upon his shoulders.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE KHOJA TRESPa.s.sES.]

"Come, come!" said the gardener, "that answer will not do. This is not a place for selling ladders."

"You must be very ignorant," replied the Khoja gravely, "if you do not know that ladders are salable anywhere."

_Tale_ 18.--The Cat and the Khoja's Supper.

The Khoja, like many another man, was fond of something nice for his supper.

But no matter how often he bought a piece of liver to make a tasty dish, his wife always gave it away to a certain friend of hers, and when the Khoja came home in the evening he got nothing to eat but cakes.

"Wife," said he at last, "I bring home some liver every day that we may have a good supper, and you put nothing but pastry before me. What becomes of the meat?"

"The cat steals it, O Khoja!" replied his wife.

On this the Khoja rose from his seat, and taking the axe proceeded to lock it up in a box.

"What are you doing with the axe, Khoja?" said his wife.

"I am hiding it from the cat," replied the Khoja. "The sort of cat who steals two pennyworth of liver is not likely to spare an axe worth forty pence."

_Tale_ 19.--The Cadi's Ferejeh.

One day a certain Cadi of Sur-Hissar, being very drunk, lay down in a garden and fell asleep. The Khoja, having gone out for a walk, pa.s.sed by the spot and saw the Cadi lying dead drunk and senseless, with his ferejeh--or overcoat--half off his back.

It was a very valuable ferejeh, of rich material, and the Khoja took it and went home remarkably well dressed.

When the Cadi recovered his senses he found that his ferejeh was gone.

Thereupon he called his officers and commanded them, saying: "On whomsoever ye shall see my ferejeh, bring the fellow before me."

Meanwhile the Khoja wore it openly, and at last the officers took him and brought him before the Cadi.

"O Khoja!" said the Cadi, "how came you by what belongs to me? Where did you find that ferejeh?"

"Most exemplary Cadi," replied the Khoja, "I went out yesterday for a short time before sunset, and as I walked I perceived a disreputable-looking fellow lying shamefully drunk, and exposed to the derision of pa.s.sers-by in the public gardens. His ferejeh was half off his back, and I said within myself, 'This valuable ferejeh will certainly be stolen, whilst he to whom it belongs is sleeping the sleep of drunkenness. I will therefore take it and wear it, and when the owner has his senses restored to him, he will be able to see and reclaim it.'

So I took the ferejeh, and if it be thine, O Cadi, take it!"

"It cannot be my ferejeh, of course," said the Cadi hastily; "though there is a similarity which at first deceived me."

"Then I will keep it till the man claims it," said the Khoja.

And he did so.

_Tale_ 20.--The Two Pans.

One day the Khoja borrowed a big pan of his next-door neighbour.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE KHOJA IS ARTFUL.]

When he had done with it he put a smaller pan inside it, and carried it back.

"What is this?" said the neighbour.

"It is a young pan," replied the Khoja. "It is the child of your big pan, and therefore belongs to you."

The neighbour laughed in his sleeve.

"If this Khoja is mad," said he, "a sensible man like myself need not refuse to profit by his whims."

So he replied, "It is well, O Khoja! The pan is a very good pan. May its posterity be increased!"

And he took the Khoja's pan as well as his own, and the Khoja departed.

After a few days the Khoja came again to borrow the big pan, which his neighbour lent him willingly, saying to himself, "Doubtless something else will come back in it." But after he had waited two--three--four--and five days, and the Khoja did not return it, the neighbour betook himself to the Khoja's house and asked for his pan.