"They would the more surely avoid punishment," said Abu Ha.s.san, "because their ringleader is a holy Imam of respected appearance, whom the judge would never believe capable of any wrong action, and yet they slander all the respectable people in this quarter of the city, and try by using every means to gain an influence over the consciences of the Faithful, while they themselves pay but scant attention to the laws of the Koran."

"Well," said the Caliph, as he tried to calm Abu Ha.s.san, who had worked himself up to a rage, "perhaps your wish to see these scoundrels properly punished will come true in some way, even if you are not the Commander of the Faithful. Let us drink to the realization of your wish."

The Caliph seized the bottle and filled the gla.s.ses full, at the same time dropping a pinch of white powder into Abu Ha.s.san's gla.s.s without his noticing it.

Hardly had they drank it off before Abu Ha.s.san nodded his head and fell into a deep sleep. The Caliph immediately called his slave, and ordered him to take the sleeping man on his shoulders and bear him to the palace. Then he left Abu Ha.s.san's house, pulling the door to, but not shutting it.

Once arrived at his palace, Harun Alrashid ordered Abu Ha.s.san to be clothed in a splendid night robe and laid in the Caliph's own costly bed. Then the officers, servants, slaves, and slave women received the strictest orders to carry out Abu Ha.s.san's commissions faithfully next morning, and, above all, to treat him as if he were the Commander of the Faithful.

You can imagine Abu Ha.s.san's astonishment when he woke up next morning in the splendid bed and looked around at the room so beautifully decorated with gold and expensive wall hangings. At first he thought he was dreaming. He kept opening and closing his eyes, trying to find out for sure if he were asleep or awake. Still greater was his amazement when he caught sight of a garment of woven gold near his bed, and a caliph's cap on a silken cushion. But yet he could not believe that these were all real things, and he had to convince himself by feeling them that he was not in a world of dreams.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "PLEASE BITE MY FINGER"]

"Where am I, then?" he cried. "What has happened to me? Everything looks as if I were in the Caliph's palace. Or have I become Caliph myself over night?"

While scolding himself for his foolish thoughts, he was trying all the time to go to sleep again. But suddenly the lofty double doors of his chamber opened, and a troop of wonderfully beautiful women and black slaves stepped in. One band of women began to sing and play charming music on different instruments. The others threw themselves down before him, and one of the black slaves stepped to the bedside and said: "Commander of the Faithful, it is time for early prayers. May it please you to get up?"

"Whether I'm Caliph or not, I will get up at least just to see how this adventure turns out!"

Hardly did he show his intention of raising himself when the slaves jumped in a hurry to help him, and to dress him in the golden morning gown. At the same time all those present shouted: "Commander of the Faithful, G.o.d give you a blessed day!"

Now, this was too much for poor Abu Ha.s.san. He called one of the women to him, and said: "Please bite my finger, so I can see if I am dreaming or not."

The slave that he called knew that Harun Alrashid was watching everything from the next room, and wished to amuse the real Commander of the Faithful. So she bit Abu Ha.s.san's finger sharply. The quickness with which Abu Ha.s.san pulled back his finger made the hidden Caliph almost split his sides with laughing, and he congratulated himself that he had found such an enjoyable diversion by carrying his plan through. He said to himself: "Abu Ha.s.san could hardly be more curious than I am to know how the story will end."

But Abu Ha.s.san was thinking: "I cannot understand this surprising change, but it seems to me that the queer Ha.s.san of yesterday has become the real Caliph of today." So he let them put his clothes on him without resistance, and with a certain dignified manner which the Caliph noticed with great pleasure. Then they washed his head, face and hands with deliciously scented water. Finally the Grand Vizier announced, with many a bow of respect, that the great people of the court and of the realm were a.s.sembled and expecting the appearance of the Commander of the Faithful. So Abu Ha.s.san drew himself up to his full height, and, preceded by armed soldiers and a number of chamberlains resplendent in gold, walked to the great throne room, where he was led to the throne by the chamberlains.

The doors of the hall opened, and the Commanders-in-Chief of the Army, the Governors of the Provinces and the n.o.bles of the country marched in in a wonderful parade and greeted Abu Ha.s.san as Caliph. They stepped forward to the throne, dropped on their knees, and touched the carpet before him with their foreheads. Abu Ha.s.san took all of this as quietly as if he had been Caliph since youth. He listened to the Grand Vizier's address, took part in the consultations over matters of state, and decided difficult points with such a sound understanding of human nature that the real Caliph, who stood disguised among the officers, was greatly pleased. Suddenly Abu Ha.s.san made a sign to the Grand Vizier to interrupt his address.

"Where is the Chief of Police of our capital city?" he cried. "Let him be brought here immediately."

When the man called for had appeared and announced himself, "at the command of his mighty master," Abu said: "In the mosque of the new quarter you will find an Imam and four other old men. I wish you to arrest them and give each one hundred stripes with the bastinado. Then let them be mounted backwards on camels and led through the city accompanied by a herald, who shall call out these words: 'In this way the Commander of the Faithful punishes those who meddle in matters that do not concern them, and who know nothing better to do than bring trouble and pain to their neighbors.' After this sentence is completed, however, you are then to tell them that they must leave that quarter of the city, and not set foot in it again under penalty of death."

While the magistrate hurried away to carry out Abu Ha.s.san's command, the Grand Vizier went on with his address. An hour later the Chief of Police came back with the news that the Caliph's orders had been conscientiously fulfilled, at which Abu Ha.s.san felt the greatest satisfaction, while Harun Alrashid thoroughly enjoyed seeing his subst.i.tute arrive so quickly at the realization of his long cherished wish.

After the business matters were finished, there took place another stately reception of numerous foreign amba.s.sadors, and finally the new Caliph betook himself with his whole court to dinner. It consisted of a selection of the most delicate food and wine, and lasted late into the evening, with music and all kinds of dancing.

Abu Ha.s.san had behaved in such a dignified manner for all this time that now he showed every favor to the people in his neighborhood, and even condescended to talk with the slaves. It was fairly late when one of the most beautiful of the slave girls came up to Abu Ha.s.san and offered him a gla.s.s of the sweetest wine prepared especially for the Caliph. Abu Ha.s.san was charmed, and had not any suspicion that the delicious mixture contained a potent sleeping powder. He drank it off, and in a few minutes fell into a sound sleep.

As quickly as he was brought away the day before, just so speedily now was he transported into his own dwelling. Next morning the Caliph for One Day woke up again as Abu Ha.s.san, and found himself in his old circ.u.mstances. In spite of all his calls and shouts, neither the slaves nor the court officers of yesterday hurried to him to ask his wishes. He was sadly perplexed at first at this new change, but he soon got over it, and consoled himself with thinking that at least he had had a beautiful dream. When his mother told him that he had in fact disappeared for a whole day, and when he also learned that the Imam and his fellows had been punished exactly as he had ordered when Caliph, he did not know what to think of the whole adventure at all.

Finally, he leaned to his mother's view, who explained it by saying that some spirit had taken him away and had executed the Imam's punishment. He was thankful indeed to be rid of his rascally neighbors, but he could never give himself an explanation of what had moved the spirit to help him. In the end, however, he put the whole story out of his mind, and became again what he had been before--Queer Abu Ha.s.san, or the Caliph for One Day.

--_Arabian Nights._

THE FIRST POTTER

Ang was a mighty hunter and also a priest of Odin, but Oma was a famous housewife or cave-wife, and not only Suta, the wife of w.a.n.g, came to take lessons of her, but many other women who had heard of her wonderful skill in cooking old food in new ways and discovering new foods which the magic of the fire made palatable. She had learned not merely how to cook the meat which Ang brought, but to dry it so that it would keep for a long time. She discovered how to make a coa.r.s.e flour from nuts and acorns and to bake cakes on flat stones. At the fire feast the cooking of Oma made as great an impression as the wisdom and strength of Ang.

But her greatest discovery was the art of making pottery dishes out of clay and baking them before the fire. For a long time women had made baskets of reeds and willow twigs in which they could carry dry foods, but the problem was to get something in which they could carry liquids. Sometimes they used skin bottles, but they soon leaked and the water rotted them out. Then some clever woman smeared the inside of a closely woven basket with resinous pitch. Another lined her baskets with clay and baked them in the sun, but water would soon soften the clay. Then came Oma and the fire and the art of baking clay. This is the way it happened. Oma had been lining some baskets with clay, and little Om tried to imitate her. Since it was cold he sat as near to the fire as he could, and after he had finished one, he would put it on a stone near the fire until he had a row of them. Then the wind changed suddenly and blew the fire towards him, and he had to move quickly, leaving his clay baskets on the rock. He called to his mother to get them, but she had no notion of getting burned for so small a cause and she was too busy to bother, as mothers often are.

That night after Om had gone to sleep she sat by the fire with Ang, and her eyes spied the little row of clay baskets. She picked one up to show the father what a clever boy his son was getting to be. As she touched the clay, she found it dry and hard as no clay she had ever touched before. Some of the baskets were dry and crumbly, but two or three in the center were hard as stone. A thought came to her. She ran to the brook and filled the hardest with water and brought them back to the fire. They did not soften or leak. Then she put them on a flat stone and pushed them almost into the fire. Soon the water in them began to bubble and steam.

"Look!" cried Oma. "At the touch of the Red One a little Cloud Spirit goes up to the great Cloud Spirits that fly in the blue above us."

Then Ang knew that Odin had given a new gift. "This time the Red One has spoken to you; what has he said?"

Oma carefully drew the little clay pots from the fire, and after they had cooled she examined them. Two of them were cracked, but one was firm and solid as if it had been cut from stone. She held it up before Ang in triumph. "This is what we have been waiting for since the beginning of time. The Red One has worked magic on the clay, and its old enemy, the water, cannot eat through it."

The next day Oma made baskets lined with clay, and then, putting them on flat stones, pushed them into the heat of the fire. Some of them crumbled, but others baked hard and firm. As the heat burned off the inclosing basket, the pattern was left molded on the clay.

After many experiments Oma learned just what clay to use and how to bake it. And she made pots of all sizes and arranged them on ledges of her cave and filled them with nuts and seeds. Then she learned how to use the clay pots for cooking. In the old days she had placed sc.r.a.ps of meat and bone and roots in a pitch-lined basket and then added water and hot stones from the fire. Of course the pitch softened and gave an unpleasant taste to the stew, and often the hot water softened it so much that the basket became like a sieve. But now Oma could mix her stews and brews and boil them until they were soft and delicious, and the clay dish was just as good as before.

And Suta and other women came to look; and they wondered and tasted, and smacked their lips, and asked how it was done, then went home to do likewise. And the fame of Ang and Oma grew in the north land, and men said, "They are loved by the Great One".

But if Oma made the first pottery and the most useful, Suta, wife of w.a.n.g, made the most beautiful. After she had learned to bake the clay so that neither fire nor water would harm it, she amused herself by making dishes of queer shapes. Then she discovered it was not necessary to make the basket molds, and that if she made marks on the clay they would be baked in. She began by making a little row of nail prints about the rim--((((((((((. Then she made rough pictures of animals and men with a sharpened stick. And the fame of Suta went out also through the north land, and they came from far away to see the wonderful things which she had done. Others tried, but no one could make such beautiful dishes as Suta.

Before the great fire feast an idea came to Suta like a dream in the night, she knew not from where. She would make a great bowl for Odin and she would mold on it pictures of his gifts, so that all who saw would remember from whom the good things came. With great care she shaped a bowl as high as a five-year-old child and so large that a grown man could not circle it with his arms. On it she pictured the man who shot the first deer with a stone-tipped arrow, the man who made the first snare for the wild birds, the man who first crossed the deep water in a hollowed log, Ang striking fire from the flints, Oma baking the clay dishes. Then she hesitated. These and many things more the Great One had given; what would He give next? What did she want most?

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE FIRST POTTER]

Now Suta was not like Ang or w.a.n.g or even like Oma. w.a.n.g had thought sometimes that she was not so good a cook as Oma, and that she spent too much time listening to the song of the birds and watching the play of the light on the water and the woods and the far-off hills. She did these things sometimes when he thought she ought to get wood for the fire or cook something for him, and he grumbled a little. But now that she made dishes of clay which no one else could make and all men said, "What a fortunate man w.a.n.g is to have a woman that can make such things!" w.a.n.g began to be very proud of her. He even went so far as to get wood for the fire, which he did not think man's work.

And what did Suta the dreamer want? She did not want more food or more clothes or a bigger cave; she wanted the power to mold in clay the things she saw and loved. So she put on the great bowl for the All-Father a picture of a woman, with her back turned on the lookers and a sharpened stick in her hand, just ready to work the soft clay, but waiting for the power to draw on clay the picture in her mind. It was the first expression of the unsatisfied yearning of the artist for beauty and the power to express it. For Suta was the mother of those who love the beautiful and long to give it permanent form.

When the bowl for the Giver was finished, it was placed on a stone foundation in front of the stone altar, which Ang and w.a.n.g had made.

At the feast it was filled with sparkling water from a spring near by, and as the men danced about the fire they dipped their hands in it as they pa.s.sed by and sprinkled the water on the fire and on themselves and sang:

Singing water of the brook, Shining laughter of the wood, Talking picture of the clay, Earth and fire and water, all Are voices of the Great.

All who saw the great bowl which Suta had made were filled with wonder, and they wanted her to make something for them. Then the great idea came to w.a.n.g. Now w.a.n.g was not so strong as Ang or so good a hunter, but he wanted just as much to eat and just as warm furs to wear. He liked better to sit talking with some crony in the shade in summer or by the fire in winter. Talking and sitting were the two things of which he never tired. Now when the world was young, such men went hungry and cold, and w.a.n.g had done so often, and, more's the pity, Suta and little Sut; but then came the idea. Every one wanted Suta's clay dishes; he wanted deer's meat and bear's, and furs, and the choicest seeds and nuts. He would barter the things which Suta made for the things he wanted. Suta would do the work; others would bring food and furs and fruits; he would sit in front of the cave and give as little of the first for as much of the second as possible. And the idea worked. Suta loved to mold the plastic clay and decorate it. Many wanted the things which she had made, and w.a.n.g's wily tongue multiplied the number of those who were willing to pay for what they wanted.

So w.a.n.g became the father of a long line of traders, and the w.a.n.g family had more food than they could eat and more furs than they could wear. w.a.n.g grew thick in the belly and thin in the calf, but it suited him, and Suta was too busy with her clay to care. And w.a.n.g the trader became almost as great a man as Ang the priest.

And Oma, wife of Ang, grew envious of Suta, wife of w.a.n.g. And she grumbled to Ang: "Did not you find the Red One and bring w.a.n.g and Suta so that they should not perish from the cold? Have you not fed them with meat of your own hunting? Did not I learn from the Red One how to harden and mold the clay? Did I not show Suta? Do I not work harder than she? Am I not a better cook? Can I not make better coats of fur?

But see, little Sut has finer furs than Om and is fatter. And all who come now pa.s.s by our cave, except at the great feasts, or when they are sick and in trouble, and go to talk with w.a.n.g and look at Suta. Is she so much better to look at than Oma?"

But Ang comforted her with wisdom that had come from long broodings under the shadow of the Keeper of Secrets. "The Giver has differing gifts. To the fire he gives one, to the water another, to the earth another. To Suta he gave the love of beauty; to you he gave the love of doing and making; and the joy of doing is greater than the joy of having. To each her gifts as the Great One wills. And I would rather be the man of Oma than of Suta." So Oma was comforted, though she often sighed wistfully as she saw men and women go by to the cave of w.a.n.g or watched Suta deftly mold some new thought into the yielding clay.

--_From "Around the Fire", by Hanford M. Burr.

Courtesy of a.s.sociation Press._