An outline of humor / Being a true chronicle from prehistoric ages to the twentieth century

by Unknown

MEDIÆVAL AGES

Shakespeare’s line,

“In the vast deep and middle of the night,”

gives no stronger or more absolute effect of darkness and blankness than the state of humorous literature during the vast deep and middle of the Mediæval Ages.

It is not possible to catalogue it with reference to time or place, for the mass of it came from the mouths of Tale-tellers or Song-singers, supplemented by the pencils or chisels of the caricaturists.

In the East, Folk Tales were abundant and they were brought to Europe as the wind scatters the seeds of vegetation.

Fables, Fairy Tales, Mother Goose Jingles, Collections of Anecdotes, all hark back to these jesting stories of the ancient Orientals.

Probably the oldest and most important link in the tracing of Indo-European Folk Lore is found in the Fables of Pilpay, or Bidpai.

This is the Arabic translation of the Pahlavi translation of the Sanscrit original of the Panchatantra.

The scope of the work is advice for the conduct of princes, offered in the guise of beast fables, and perhaps containing much of the material commonly attributed to Æsop.

Little or nothing is known of Pilpay, and his era has been variously placed at different dates between 100 b.c. and 300 b.c.

Others, indeed, declare that Pilpay was not an individual but the name is that of a bidbah, the court scholar of an Indian prince.

The fables, as may be seen from the following selections, inculcate the moral teachings by means of stories about animals, to whom are attributed the thoughts and impulses of men.

Kalidasa, called the greatest poet and dramatist of India, is also of uncertain origin and birth date. He probably lived early in the Christian Era, and his writings, though not strictly humorous are instinct with the spirit of satire.

Kalidasa
HUNTING WITH A KING

Mathavya, a Jester

Mathavya. Heigh-ho, what an unfortunate fellow I am, worn to a shadow by my royal friend’s sporting propensities! “Here’s a deer!” “There goes a boar!” “Yonder’s a tiger!” This is the constant subject of his remarks, while we tramp about in the heat of the day from jungle to jungle on paths where the trees give us no shade. If we are thirsty, we can get nothing to drink but some dirty water from a mountain stream full of dry leaves, tasting vilely bitter. If we are hungry, we are obliged to eat tough, flavorless game, and have to gulp it down at odd times as best we can. Even at night I have no peace. Sleeping is out of the question, with my bones all aching from trotting after my sporting friend; or, if I do contrive to doze, I am awakened at early dawn by the horrible din of a lot of rascally beaters and huntsmen, who must needs begin their deafening operations before sunrise. But these are not my only troubles; for here’s a fresh grievance, like a new boil rising upon an old one: Yesterday, while some of us were lagging behind, my royal friend went into a hermit’s enclosure after a deer, and there—worse luck—he caught sight of a beautiful girl called Sakuntala, the hermit’s daughter. From that moment not a single thought did he have of returning to town; and all night long not a wink of sleep did he get for his thoughts of the girl. But see—here he comes! I will pretend to stand in the easiest attitude for resting my bruised and crippled limbs.

Enter King Dushyanta

Mathavya. Ah, my friend, my hands cannot move to greet you with the accustomed salutation! I can do no more than command my lips to wish your Majesty success.

King. Why, what has paralyzed your limbs?

Mathavya. You might as well ask me how it is my eye waters after you have poked your finger into it!

King. I don’t understand what you mean. Explain yourself.

Mathavya. My dear friend, is that straight reed you see yonder bent crooked by its own act, or by the force of the current?

King. The current of the river is the cause, I suppose.

Mathavya. Yes, just as you are the cause of my crippled limbs.

King. How so?

Mathavya. Here you are, living the life of a savage in a desolate, forlorn region, while the government of the country is taking care of itself. And poor I am no longer master of my own legs, but have to follow you about day after day in your hunting for wild beasts, till all my bones ache and get out of joint. Please, my dear friend, do let us have one day’s rest!—“Sakuntala.”

Unknown Author
THE CREATION OF WOMAN

In the beginning, when Twashtri came to the creation of women, he found that he had exhausted his materials in the making of man, and that no solid elements were left. In this dilemma, after profound meditation, he did as follows:

He took the rotundity of the moon, and the curves of creepers and the clinging of tendrils, and the trembling of grass, and the slenderness of the reed, and the bloom of flowers, and the lightness of leaves, and the tapering of the elephant’s trunk, and the glances of deer, and the joyous gaiety of sunbeams, and the weeping of clouds, and the fickleness of the winds, and the timidity of the hare, and the vanity of the peacock, and the softness of the parrot’s bosom, and the hardness of adamant, and the cruelty of the tiger, and the hot glow of fire, and the coldness of snow, and the chattering of jays, and the cooing of the dove, and the hypocrisy of the crane, and the fidelity of the drake. Compounding all these together, he made woman, and gave her to man.

But after a week man came to him, and said:

“Lord, this creature that you have given me makes my life miserable. She chatters incessantly, and teases me beyond endurance, never leaving me alone. She requires attention every moment, takes up all my time, weeps about nothing, and is always idle. So I have come to give her back again, as I cannot live with her.”

Then Twashtri said, “Very well,” and took her back.

After another week man came to him again, saying:

“Lord, I find that my life is lonely since I surrendered that creature. I remember how she used to dance and sing to me, and look at me out of the corner of her eye, and play with me, and cling to me. Her laughter was music; she was beautiful to look at, and soft to touch. Pray give her back to me again.”

And Twashtri said, “Very well,” and returned woman to man.

But after only three days had passed, man appeared once more before the Creator, to whom he said:

“Lord, I know not how it is, but, after all, I have come to the conclusion that she is more trouble than pleasure to me. Therefore I beg that you take her back again.”

Twashtri, however, replied:

“Out upon you! Be off! I will have no more of this. You must manage how you can.”

Then quoth man:

“But I cannot live with her!”

To which Twashtri answered:

“Neither could you live without her.” And he turned his back on man, and went on with his work.

Then said man:

“Alas, what is to be done? For I cannot live either with or without her!”—The Churning of the Ocean of Time (Sansara-sagara-manthanam).

The Talmud is far from a humorous work, but it embodies many bits of wise wit, and is the original source of many present day proverbs.

In its twelve folio volumes it contains the work of the ancient Jews for nearly a thousand years, and among its fine parables and interesting legends gleams of rare wit frequently occur.

EXTRACTS FROM THE TALMUD

The forest trees once asked the fruit trees: “Why is the rustling of your leaves not heard in the distance?” The fruit trees replied: “We can dispense with the rustling to manifest our presence, our fruits testify for us.” The fruit trees then inquired of the forest trees: “Why do your leaves rustle almost continually?” “We are forced to call the attention of man to our existence.”

Too many captains sink the ship.

Birds of a feather flock together; and so with men—like to like.

He laid his money on the horns of a deer.

Keep partners with him whom the hour favors.

Attend no auctions if thou hast no money.

Poverty comes from God, but not dirt.

Ignorance and conceit go hand in hand.

Better eat onions all thy life than dine upon geese and chickens once and then long in vain for more ever after.

Go to sleep without supper, but rise without debt.

Do not live near a pious fool.

If thy friends agree in calling thee an ass, go and get a halter around thee.

Love your wife truly and faithfully, and do not compel her to hard work.

When our conjugal love was strong, the width of the threshold offered sufficient accommodation for both of us; but now that it has cooled down, a couch sixty yards wide is too narrow.

Man is generally led the way which he is inclined to go.

If the thief has no opportunity, he thinks himself honorable.

Were it not for the existence of passions, no one would build a house, marry a wife, beget children, or do any work.

What should man do in order to live? Deaden his passions. What should man do in order to die? Give himself entirely to life.

He who hardens his heart with pride softens his brain with the same.

Do not reveal thy secret to the apes.

Keep shut the doors of thy mouth

Even from the wife of thy bosom.

Use thy best vase to-day, for to-morrow it may, perchance, be broken.

The world is only saved by the breath of the school-children.

“Repeat,” “repeat,” that is the best medicine for memory.

A woman schemes while plying the spindle.

Alas! for one thing that goes and never returns. What is it? Youth.

Rab Safra had a jewel for which he asked the price of ten pieces of gold. Several dealers saw the jewel and offered five gold pieces. Rab Safra declined, and the merchants left him. After a second consideration, he, however, resolved upon selling the jewel for five pieces. The next day, just as Rab Safra was at prayers, the merchants unexpectedly returned: “Sir,” said they to him, “we come to you again to do business after all. Do you wish to part with the jewel for the price we offered you?” But Rab Safra made no reply. “Well, well; be not angered; we will add another two pieces.” Rab Safra still remained silent. “Well, then, be it as you say; we will give you ten pieces, the price you asked.” By this time Rab Safra had ended his prayer, and said: “Sirs, I was at prayers, and could not hear you. As for the jewel, I have already resolved upon selling it at the price you offered me yesterday. If you then pay me five pieces of gold, I shall be satisfied.”

Chief of the Arabian collections of tales is, of course, The Arabian Nights’ Entertainment, or The Thousand And One Nights.

Many of these tales are of very ancient origin, others have been added as the centuries went by.

Though the stories show their Persian, Indian and Arabian origin, the collection as it stands at present was compiled in Egypt not more than five or six centuries ago.

As is well known, the stories were told night after night, by Scheherazade, to preserve her life so long as the king’s interest might be held. Most of the tales show little or no humor, many are long and wearisome, many more too broad to quote, but several are given that may be considered as representative of Oriental wit.

THE SIMPLETON AND THE SHARPER

A certain simple fellow was once going along, haling his ass after him by the halter, when a couple of sharpers saw him and one said to his fellow, “I will take that ass from yonder man.” “How wilt thou do that?” asked the other. “Follow me and I will show thee,” replied the first. So he went up to the ass and loosing it from the halter, gave the beast to his fellow; then clapped the halter on his own head and followed the simpleton, till he knew that the other had got clean off with the ass when he stood still. The man pulled at the halter, but the thief stirred not; so he turned and seeing the halter on a man’s neck, said to him, “Who art thou?” Quoth the sharper, “I am thine ass and my story is a strange one. Know that I have a pious old mother and came in to her one day, drunk; and she said to me, “O my son, repent to God the Most High of these thy transgressions.” But I took the cudgel and beat her, whereupon she cursed me and God the Most High changed me into an ass and caused me fall into thy hands, where I have remained till now. However, today, my mother called me to mind and her heart relented towards me; so she prayed for me, and God restored me to my former shape of a man.” “There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme!” cried the simpleton. “O my brother, I conjure thee by Allah acquit me of what I have done with thee in the way of riding and so forth.”

Then he let the sharper go and returned home, drunken with chagrin and concern. His wife asked him, “What ails thee and where is the ass?” And he answered, “Thou knowest not what was this ass; but I will tell thee.” So he told her the story, and she exclaimed, “Woe worth us for God the Most High! How could we have used a man as a beast of burden, all this while?” And she gave alms and asked pardon of God. Then the man abode awhile at home, idle, till she said to him, “How long wilt thou sit at home, idle? Go to the market and buy us an ass and do thy business with it.” Accordingly, he went to the market and stopping by the ass-stand, saw his own ass for sale. So he went up to it and clapping his mouth to its ear, said to it, “Out on thee, thou good-for-nought! Doubtless thou hast been getting drunk again and beating thy mother! But, by Allah, I will never buy thee more!” And he left it and went away.

THE THIEF TURNED MERCHANT AND THE OTHER THIEF

There was once a thief who repented to God the Most High and making good his repentance, opened himself a shop for the sale of stuffs, where he continued to trade awhile. One day, he locked his shop and went home; and in the night there came to the bazaar a cunning thief disguised in the habit of the merchant, and pulling out keys from his sleeve, said to the watchman of the market, “Light me this candle.” So the watchman took the candle and went to get a light, whilst the thief opened the shop and lit another candle he had with him. When the watchman came back, he found him seated in the shop, looking over the account books and reckoning with his fingers; nor did he leave to do thus till point of day, when he said to the man, “Fetch me a camel-driver and his camel, to carry some goods for me.” So the man fetched him a camel, and the thief took four bales of stuffs and gave them to the camel-driver, who loaded them on his beast. Then he gave the watchman two dirhems and went away after the camel-driver, the watchman the while believing him to be the owner of the shop.

Next morning, the merchant came and the watchman greeted him with blessings, because of the two dirhems, much to the surprise of the former, who knew not what he meant. When he opened his shop, he saw the droppings of the wax and the account-book lying on the floor, and looking round, found four bales of stuffs missing. So he asked the watchman what had happened and he told him what had passed in the night, whereupon the merchant bade him fetch the camel-driver and said to the latter, “Whither didst thou carry the stuffs?” “To such a wharf,” answered the driver; “and I stowed them on board such a vessel.” “Come with me thither,” said the merchant. So the camel-driver carried him to the wharf and showed him the barque and her owner. Quoth the merchant to the latter, “Whither didst thou carry the merchant and the stuff?” “To such a place,” answered the master, “where he fetched a camel-driver and setting the bales on the camel, went I know not whither.” “Fetch me the camel-driver,” said the merchant; so he fetched him and the merchant said to him, “Whither didst thou carry the bales of stuffs from the ship?” “To such a khan,” answered he. “Come thither with me and show it to me,” said the merchant.

So the camel-driver went with him to a khan at a distance from the shore, where he had set down the stuffs, and showed him the mock merchant’s magazine, which he opened and found therein his four bales untouched and unopened. The thief had laid his mantle over them; so the merchant took the bales and the cloak and delivered them to the camel-driver, who laid them on his camel; after which the merchant locked the magazine and went away with the camel-driver. On the way, he met the thief who followed him, till he had shipped the bales, when he said to him “O my brother (God have thee in His keeping!), thou hast recovered thy goods, and nought of them is lost; so give me back my cloak.” The merchant laughed and giving him back his cloak, let him go unhindered.

THE IGNORANT MAN WHO SET UP FOR A SCHOOLMASTER

There was once, among the hangers-on of the collegiate mosque, a man who knew not how to read and write and got his bread by gulling the folk. One day, he bethought him to open a school and teach children; so he got him tablets and written scrolls and hung them up in a conspicuous place. Then he enlarged his turban and sat down at the door of the school. The people, who passed by and saw his turban and the tablets and scrolls, thought he must be a very learned doctor; so they brought him their children; and he would say to this, “Write,” and to that, “Read”; and thus they taught one another.

One day, as he sat, as of wont, at the door of the school, he saw a woman coming up, with a letter in her hand, and said to himself, “This woman doubtless seeks me, that I may read her the letter she has in her hand. How shall I do with her seeing I cannot read writing?” And he would fain have gone down and fled from her; but, before he could do this, she overtook him and said to him, “Whither away?” Quoth he, “I purpose to pray the noontide-prayer and return.” “Noon is yet distant,” said she; “so read me this letter.” He took the letter and turning it upside down, fell to looking at it, now shaking his head and anon knitting his eyebrows and showing concern. Now the letter came from the woman’s husband, who was absent; and when she saw the schoolmaster do thus, she said, “Doubtless my husband is dead, and this learned man is ashamed to tell me so.” So she said to him, “O my lord, if he be dead, tell me.” But he shook his head and held his peace. Then said she, “Shall I tear my clothes?” “Tear,” answered he. “Shall I buffet my face,” asked she; and he said, “Buffet.” So she took the letter from his hand and returning home, fell a-weeping, she and her children.

One of her neighbours heard her weeping and asking what ailed her, was answered, “She hath gotten a letter, telling her that her husband is dead.” Quoth the man, “This is a lying saying; for I had a letter from him but yesterday, advising me that he is in good health and case and will be with her after ten days.” So he rose forthright and going in to her, said, “Where is the letter thou hast received?” She brought it to him, and he took it and read it; and it ran as follows, after the usual salutation, “I am well and in good health and case and will be with thee after ten days. Meanwhile, I send thee a quilt and an extinguisher.”[1] So she took the letter and returning with it to the schoolmaster, said to him, “What moved thee to deal thus with me?” And she repeated to him what her neighbour had told her of his having sent her a quilt and an extinguisher. “Thou art in the right,” answered he. “But excuse me, good woman; for I was, at the time, troubled and absent-minded and seeing the extinguisher wrapped in the quilt, thought that he was dead and they had shrouded him.” The woman, not smoking the cheat, said, “Thou art excused,” and taking the letter, went away.

THE HUSBAND AND THE PARROT

There lived once a good man who had a beautiful wife, of whom he was so passionately fond that he could scarcely bear to have her out of his sight. One day, when some particular business obliged him to leave her, he went to a place where they sold all sorts of birds. Here he purchased a parrot, which was not only highly accomplished in the art of talking, but also possessed the rare gift of telling everything that was done in its presence. The husband took it home in a cage to his wife, and begged of her to keep it in her chamber, and take great care of it during his absence. After this he set out on his journey.

On his return he did not fail to interrogate the parrot on what had passed while he was away; and the bird very expertly related a few circumstances which occasioned the husband to reprimand his wife. She supposed that some of her slaves had betrayed her, but they all assured her they were faithful, and agreed in charging the parrot with the crime. Desirous of being convinced of the truth of this matter, the wife devised a method of quieting the suspicions of her husband, and at the same time of revenging herself on the parrot, if he were the culprit. The next time the husband was absent she ordered one of her slaves during the night to turn a handmill under the bird’s cage, another to throw water over it like rain, and a third to wave a looking-glass before the parrot by the light of a candle. The slaves were employed the greater part of the night in doing what their mistress had ordered them, and succeeded to her satisfaction.

The following day, when the husband returned, he again applied to the parrot to be informed of what had taken place. The bird replied, “My dear master, the lightning, the thunder, and the rain have so disturbed me the whole night, that, I cannot tell you how much I have suffered.”

The husband, who knew there had been no storm that night, became convinced that the parrot did not always relate facts, and that having told an untruth in this particular, he had also deceived him with respect to his wife. Being therefore extremely enraged with it, he took the bird out of the cage and, dashing it on the floor, killed it. He, however, afterward learned from his neighbors that the poor parrot had told no falsehood in reference to his wife’s conduct, which made him repent of having destroyed it.

BAKBARAH’S VISIT TO THE HAREM

Bakbarah the Toothless, my second brother, walking one day through the city, met an old woman in a retired street. She thus accosted him: “I have,” said she, “a word to say to you, if you will stay a moment.” He immediately stopped, and asked her what she wished. “If you have time to go with me,” she replied, “I will take you to a most magnificent palace, where you shall see a lady more beautiful than the day. She will receive you with a great deal of pleasure, and will treat you with a collation and excellent wine. I have no occasion, I believe, to say any more.” “But is what you tell me,” replied my brother, “true?” “I am not given to lying,” replied the old woman; “I propose nothing to you but what is the fact. You must, however, pay attention to what I require of you. You must be prudent, speak little, and must comply with everything.”

Bakbarah having agreed to the conditions, she walked on before, and he followed her. They arrived at the gate of a large palace, where there were a great number of officers and servants. Some of them wished to stop my brother, but the old woman no sooner spoke to them, than they let him pass. She then turned to my brother, and said, “Remember that the young lady to whose house I have brought you is fond of mildness and modesty; nor does she like being contradicted. If you satisfy her in this, there is no doubt you will obtain whatever you wish.” Bakbarah thanked her for this advice, and promised to profit by it.

She then took him into a very beautiful apartment, which formed part of a square building. It corresponded with the magnificence of the palace; there was a gallery all round it, and in the midst of it a very fine garden. The old woman made him sit down on a sofa that was handsomely furnished, and desired him to wait there a moment, till she went to inform the young lady of his arrival.

As my brother had never before been in so superb a place, he immediately began to observe all the beautiful things that were in sight; and judging of his good fortune by the magnificence he beheld, he could hardly contain his joy. He almost immediately heard a great noise, which came from a long troop of slaves who were enjoying themselves, and came toward him, bursting out at the same time into violent fits of laughter. In the midst of them he perceived a young lady of most extraordinary beauty, whom he easily discovered to be their mistress, by the attention they paid her. Bakbarah, who expected merely a private conversation with the lady, was very much surprised at the arrival of so large a company. In the meantime the slaves, putting on a serious air, approached him; and when the young lady was near the sofa, my brother, who had risen up, made a most profound reverence. She took the seat of honor, and then, having requested him to resume his, she said to him, in a smiling manner, “I am delighted to see you, and wish you everything you can yourself desire.” “Madam,” replied Bakbarah, “I cannot wish a greater honor than that of appearing before you.” “You seem to me,” she replied, “of so good-humored a disposition, that we shall pass our time very agreeably together.”

She immediately ordered a collation to be served up, and they covered the table with baskets of various fruits and sweetmeats. She then sat down at the table along with my brother and the slaves. As it happened that he was placed directly opposite to her, she observed, as soon as he opened his mouth to eat, he had no teeth; she remarked this to her slaves, and they all laughed immoderately at it. Bakbarah, who from time to time raised his head to look at the lady and saw that she was laughing, imagined it was from the pleasure she felt at being in his company, and flattered himself, therefore, that she would soon order the slaves to retire, and that he should enjoy her conversation in private. The lady easily guessed his thoughts, and took a pleasure in continuing a delusion which seemed so agreeable to him: she said a thousand soft, tender things, and presented the best of everything to him with her own hand.

When the collation was finished, she arose from table; ten slaves instantly took some musical instruments and began to play and sing, the others to dance. In order to make himself the more agreeable, my brother also began dancing, and the young lady herself partook of the amusement. After they had danced for some time, they all sat down to take breath. The lady ordered him to bring her a glass of wine, then cast a smile at my brother, to intimate that she was going to drink to his health. He instantly rose up, and stood while she drank. As soon as she had finished, instead of returning the glass, she had it filled again, and presented it to my brother, that he might pledge her.

Bakbarah took the glass, and in receiving it from the young lady he kissed her hand, then drank to her, standing the whole time, to show his gratitude for the favor she had done him. After this the young lady made him sit down by her side, and began to give him signs of affection. She put her arm round his neck, and frequently gave him gentle pats with her hand. Delighted with these favors, he thought himself the happiest man in the world; he also was tempted to begin to play in the same manner with this charming creature, but he durst not take this liberty before the slaves, who had their eyes upon him, and who continued to laugh at this trifling. The young lady still kept giving him such gentle taps, till at last she began to apply them so forcibly that he grew angry at it. He reddened, and got up to sit farther from so rude a playfellow. At this moment the old woman, who had brought my brother there, looked at him in such a way as to make him understand that he was wrong, and had forgotten the advice she had before given him. He acknowledged his fault, and, to repair it, he again approached the young lady, pretending that he had not gone to a distance through anger. She then took hold of him by the arm, and drew him toward her, making him again sit down close by her, and continuing to bestow a thousand pretended caresses on him. Her slaves, whose only aim was to divert her, began to take a part in the sport. One of them gave poor Bakbarah a fillip on the nose with all her strength, another pulled his ears almost off, while the rest kept giving him slaps, which passed the limits of raillery and fun.

My brother bore all this with the most exemplary patience; he even affected an air of gaiety, and looked at the old woman with a forced smile. “You were right,” said he, “when you said that I should find a very fine, agreeable, and charming young lady. How much am I obliged to you for it!” “Oh, this is nothing yet,” replied the old woman; “let her alone, and you will see very different things by and by.” The young lady then spoke. “You are a fine man,” said she to my brother, “and I am delighted at finding in you so much kindness and complaisance toward all my little fooleries, and that you possess a disposition so conformable to mine.” “Madam,” replied Bakbarah, ravished with this speech, “I am no longer myself, but am entirely at your disposal; you have full power to do with me as you please.” “You afford me the greatest delight,” added the lady, “by showing so much submission to my inclination. I am perfectly satisfied with you, and I wish that you should be equally so with me. Bring,” cried she to the attendants, “perfumes and rose-water!” At these words two slaves went out and instantly returned, one with a silver vase, in which there was exquisite aloe-wood, with which she perfumed him, and the other with rose-water, which she sprinkled over his face and hands. My brother could not contain himself for joy at seeing himself so handsomely and honorably treated.

When this ceremony was finished, the young lady commanded the slaves who had before sung and played to recommence their concert. They obeyed; and while this was going on, the lady called another slave, and ordered her to take my brother with her saying, “You know what to do; and when you have finished, return with him to me.” Bakbarah, who heard this order given, immediately got up, and going toward the old woman, who had also risen to accompany the slave, he requested her to tell him what they wished him to do. “Our mistress,” replied she, in a whisper, “is extremely curious, and she wishes to see how you would look disguised as a female; this slave, therefore, has orders to take you with her, to paint your eyebrows, shave your mustachios, and dress you like a woman.” “You may paint my eyebrows,” said my brother, “as much as you please; to that I readily agree, because I can wash them again; but as to shaving me, that, mind you, I will by no means suffer. How do you think I dare appear without my mustachios?” “Take care,” answered the woman, “how you oppose anything that is required of you. You will quite spoil your fortune, which is going on as prosperously as possible. She loves you, and wishes to make you happy. Will you, for the sake of a paltry mustachio, forego the most delicious favors any man can possibly enjoy?”

Bakbarah at length yielded to the old woman’s arguments, and without saying another word, he suffered the slave to conduct him to an apartment, where they painted his eyebrows red. They shaved his mustachios, and were absolutely going to shave his beard. But the easiness of my brother’s tempter did not carry him quite so far as to suffer that. “Not a single stroke,” he exclaimed, “shall you take at my beard!” The slave represented to him that it was of no use to have cut off his mustachios if he would not also agree to lose his beard; that a hairy countenance did not at all coincide with the dress of a woman; and that she was astonished that a man, who was on the very point of possessing the most beautiful woman in Bagdad, should care for his beard. The old woman also joined with the slave, and added fresh reasons; she threatened my brother with being quite in disgrace with her mistress. In short, she said so much that he at last permitted them to do what they wished.

As soon as they had dressed him like a woman, they brought him back to the young lady, who burst into so violent a fit of laughter at the sight of him, that she fell down on the sofa on which she was sitting. The slaves all began to clap their hands, so that my brother was put quite out of countenance. The young lady then got up, and continuing to laugh all the time, said, “After the complaisance you have shown to me, I should be guilty of a crime not to bestow my whole heart upon you; but it is necessary that you should do one thing more for love of me: it is only to dance before me as you are.” He obeyed; and the young lady and the slaves danced with him, laughing all the while as if they were crazy. After they had danced for some time, they all threw themselves upon the poor wretch, and gave him so many blows, both with their hands and feet, that he fell down almost fainting. The old woman came to his assistance, and without giving him time to be angry at such ill treatment, she whispered in his ear, “Console yourself, for you are now arrived at the conclusion of your sufferings, and are about to receive the reward for them. You have only one thing more to do,” added she, “and that is a mere trifle. You must know that my mistress makes it her custom, whenever she has drunk a little, as she has done to-day, not to suffer anyone she loves to come near her, unless they are stripped to their shirt. When they are in this situation, she takes advantage of a short distance, and begins running before them through the gallery, and from room to room, till they have caught her. This is one of her fancies. Now, at whatever distance from you she may start, you, who are so light and active, can easily overtake her. Undress yourself quickly, therefore, and remain in your shirt, and do not make any difficulty about it.”

My brother had already carried his complying humor too far to stop at this. The young lady at the same time took off her outer robe, in order to run with greater ease. When they were both ready to begin the race, the lady took the advantage of about twenty paces, and then started with wonderful celerity. My brother followed her with all his strength, but not without exciting the risibility of the slaves, who kept clapping their hands all the time. The young lady, instead of losing any of the advantage she had first taken, kept continually gaining ground of my brother. She ran round the gallery two or three times, then turned off down a long dark passage, where she saved herself by a turn of which my brother was ignorant. Bakbarah, who kept constantly following her, lost sight of her in this passage, and he was also obliged to run much slower, because it was so dark. He at last perceived a light, toward which he made all possible haste; he went out through a door which was instantly shut upon him.

You may easily imagine what was his astonishment at finding himself in the middle of a street inhabited by curriers. Nor were they less surprised at seeing him in his shirt, his eyebrows painted red, and without either beard or mustachios. They began to clap their hands, to hoot at him; and some even ran after him, and kept lashing him with strips of their leather. They then stopped him, and set him on an ass, which they accidentally met with, and led him through the city, exposed to the laughter and shouts of the mob.

To complete his misfortune, they led him through the street where the judge of the police court lived, and this magistrate immediately sent to inquire the cause of the uproar. The curriers informed him that they saw my brother, exactly in the state he then was, come out of the gate leading to the apartments of the women belonging to the grand vizier, which opened into their street. The judge then ordered the unfortunate Bakbarah, upon the spot, to receive a hundred strokes on the soles of his feet, to be conducted without the city, and forbade him ever to enter it again.—History of the Barber’s Second Brother.

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Persian Wit and humor is best known to us through the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.

While their interest lies partly in the adept translation, the wit of the original is clearly self evident.

XXVII

Myself when young did eagerly frequent

Doctor and Saint, and heard great argument

About it and about: but evermore

Came out by the same door where in I went.

XXVIII

With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow,

And with mine own hand wrought to make it grow;

And this was all the Harvest that I reap’d—

“I came like Water, and like Wind I go.”

XXIX

Into this Universe, and Why not knowing

Nor Whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing;

And out of it, as Wind along the Waste,

I know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing.

XXX

What, without asking, hither hurried Whence?

And, without asking, Whither hurried hence!

Oh, many a Cup of this forbidden Wine

Must drown the memory of that insolence!

XXXI

Up from Earth’s Centre through the Seventh Gate

I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate,

And many a Knot unravel’d by the Road;

But not the Master-knot of Human Fate.

XXXII

There was the Door to which I found no Key;

There was the Veil through which I might not see:

Some little talk awhile of Me and Thee

There was—and then no more of Thee and Me.

LIV

Waste not your Hour, nor in the vain pursuit

Of This and That endeavour and dispute;

Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape

Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.

LV

You know, my Friends, with what a brave Carouse

I made a Second Marriage in my house;

Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed,

And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse.

LIX

The Grape that can with Logic absolute

The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute:

The sovereign Alchemist that in a trice

Life’s leaden metal into Gold transmute:

LXI

Why, be this Juice the growth of God, who dare

Blaspheme the twisted tendril as a Snare?

A Blessing, we should use it, should we not?

And if a Curse—why, then, Who set it there?

LXVIII

We are no other than a moving row

Of Magic Shadow-shapes that come and go

Round with the Sun-illumin’d Lantern held

In Midnight by the Master of the Show;

LXIX

But helpless Pieces of the Game He plays

Upon this Chequer-board of Nights and Days:

Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays,

And one by one back in the Closet lays.

LXX

The Ball no question makes of Ayes and Noes,

But Here or There as strikes the Player goes;

And He that toss’d you down into the Field,

He knows about it all—HE knows—HE knows!

LXXII

And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky,

Whereunder crawling coop’d we live and die,

Lift not your hands to It for help—for it

As impotently moves as you or I.

XCIII

Indeed the Idols I have loved so long

Have done my credit in this World much wrong:

Have drown’d my Glory in a shallow Cup,

And sold my Reputation for a Song.

XCIV

Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before

I swore—but was I sober when I swore?

And then and then came Spring, and Rose-in-hand

My thread-bare Penitence apieces tore.

XCV

And much as Wine has play’d the Infidel,

And robb’d me of my Robe of Honour—Well,

I wonder often what the Vintners buy

One half so precious as the stuff they sell.

Firdausi, the greatest Epic poet of Persia, gives us this witty epigram.

ON SULTAN MAHMOUD

’Tis said our monarch’s liberal mind

Is like the ocean, unconfined.

Happy are they who prove it so;

’Tis not for me that fact to know:

I’ve plunged within its waves, ’tis true,

But not a single pearl could view.

Sadi, one of the greatest of Persian poets, was also a great scholar, and wrote in both Persian and Arabian, beside being, it is said, the first poet to write in Hindustani.

His works are numerous and beautiful, both in verse and prose, and show a graceful wit.

DISCOMFORT BETTER THAN DROWNING

A king was embarked along with a Persian boy slave on board a ship. The boy had never been at sea nor experienced the inconvenience of a ship. He set up a weeping and wailing, and all his limbs were in a state of trepidation; and however much they soothed him, he was not to be pacified. The king’s pleasure-party was disconcerted by him; but there was no help for it. On board that ship there was a physician. He said to the king, “If you will order it, I can manage to silence him.” The king replied, “It will be an act of great favor.”

The physician so directed that they threw the boy into the sea, and after he had plunged repeatedly, they seized him by the hair of the head and drew him close to the ship, when he clung with both hands to the rudder, and, scrambling upon the deck, slunk into a corner and sat down quiet. The king, pleased with what he saw, said, “What art is there in this?” The boy replied that originally he had not experienced the danger of being drowned, and undervalued the safety of being in a ship. In like manner, a person is aware of the preciousness of health when he is overtaken with the calamity of sickness.

A barley loaf of bread has, oh, epicure, no relish for thee.

To the houris, or nymphs of paradise, purgatory would be a hell. Ask the inmates of hell whether purgatory is not paradise.

There is a distinction between the man that folds his mistress in his arms and him whose two eyes are fixed on the door expecting her.—The Rose Garden (Gulistan).

THE STRICT SCHOOLMASTER AND THE MILD

In the west of Africa I saw a schoolmaster of a sour aspect and bitter speech, crabbed, misanthropic, and intemperate, insomuch that the sight of him would derange the ecstasies of the orthodox, and his manner of reading the Koran cast a gloom over the minds of the pious. A number of handsome boys and lovely virgins were subject to his despotic sway; they had neither the permission of a smile nor the option of a word, for this moment he would smite the silver cheek of one of them with his hand, and the next put the crystalline legs of another in the stocks. In short, their parents, I heard, were made aware of a part of his angry violence, and beat and drove him from his charge.

They made over his school to a peaceable creature, so pious, meek, simple, and good-natured that he never spoke till forced to do so, nor would he utter a word that could offend anybody. The children forgot that awe in which they had held their first master, and remarking the angelic disposition of their second master, they became one after another as wicked as devils. Relying on his clemency, they would so neglect their studies as to pass most part of their time at play, and break the tablets of their unfinished tasks over each other’s heads.

When the schoolmaster relaxes in his discipline, the children will stop to play at marbles in the market-place.

A fortnight after I passed by the gate of that mosque, and saw the first schoolmaster, with whom they had been obliged to make friends and to restore him to his place. I was in truth offended, and calling on God to witness, asked, saying, “Why have they again made a devil the preceptor of angels?”

A facetious old gentleman, who had seen much of life, listened to me, and replied, “A king sent his son to school, and hung a tablet of silver round his neck. On the face of that tablet he had written in golden letters, ‘The severity of the master is more useful than the indulgence of the father.’”—The Rose Garden (Gulistan).

HATEFULNESS OF OLD HUSBANDS

An old man married a young virgin. He adorned the bridal chamber with flowers, seated himself with her in private, and riveted his heart and eyes upon her. Many a long night he would lie awake and indulge in pleasantries and jests, in order to remove any coyness on her part, and encourage familiarity. One of those nights he addressed her thus:

“Lofty fortune was your friend, and the eye of your prosperity broad awake, when you fell into the society of such an old gentleman as I am, being of mature judgment, well-bred, worldly experienced, inured to the vicissitudes of heat and cold, and practised in the goods and evils of life, who can appreciate the rights of good-fellowship, and fulfil the duties of loving attachment and is kind and affable, sweet-spoken, and cheerful. I will treat you with affection, as far as I can, and if you deal with me unkindly, I will not be unkind in return. If, like a parrot, thy food be sugar, I will devote my sweet life for thy nourishment. And you did not become the victim of a rude, conceited, rash, and headstrong youth, who one moment gratifies his lust, and the next has a fresh object; who every night shifts his abode, and every day changes his mistress. Young men are lively and handsome, but they keep good faith with nobody. Expect not constancy from nightingales, who will every moment serenade a fresh rose. Whereas my class of seniors regulate their lives by good breeding and sense, and are not deluded by youthful ignorance.”

Court the society of a superior, and make much of the opportunity! for in the company of an equal thy good fortune must decline.

The old man spoke a great deal in this style, and thought that he had caught her heart in his snare, and made sure of her as his prey, when she suddenly drew a cold sigh from the bottom of a much-afflicted bosom, and answered:

“All this speech which you have delivered has not, in the scale of my judgment, the weight of that one sentence which I have heard of my nurse, that it were better to plant a spear in a young maiden’s side than to lay her by an old man in bed. Much contention and strife will arise in that house where the wife shall get dissatisfied with her husband.”

Unable to rise without the help of a staff, how can an old man stir the staff of life?

In short, there being no prospect of concord, they agreed to separate. After lapse of the period prescribed by the law, she united in wedlock with a young man of an ill-tempered and sullen disposition, and in very narrow circumstances, so that she endured much tyranny and violence, penury and hardship. Yet she was thus offering up thanksgivings for the Almighty’s goodness, and saying:

“Praised be God that I have escaped from such hell-torment, and secured a blessing so permanent. With all this violence and impetuosity of temper, I bear with his caprice, because he is handsome. It were better for me to burn with him in hellfire than to dwell in paradise with the other.”

The smell of an onion from the mouth of the lovely is sweeter than that of a rose in the hand of the ugly.

—The Rose Garden (Gulistan).

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1. Locman the wise being asked, “Whence did you learn wisdom?” answered, From the blind, who try the path with a stick before they tread on it....

4. Hormus the tyrant, being asked, why he had put his father’s courtiers in prison, answered, Because they feared me; and the wise say, Fear him who fears thee, though he be a fly, and thou an elephant.

5. A religious was famous at Bagdad for his powerful prayers. Hoschas Joseph, king of Persia, begged him to pray for him. The religious said, O God, take away this man’s life! for no better prayer can I make either for him or his subjects.

6. An infamous king asked a Dervise, “Of all pious offices, which is the chief?” The Dervise answered, For thee, the chief is a long sleep at noon, that thou mayest, for a short time, cease to injure mankind.

7. A courtier being deprived of his place, became a religious. After some time, the king wished to restore him to his station; but he said, Experience has now taught me to prefer ease to dignity.

7. A slave of Omer, the viceroy, fled from his service, but was retaken, and brought before the king; who, at Omer’s instigation, condemned him to death. The slave upon this said, O king, I am an innocent man; and, if I die by thy command, my blood will be required. Permit me then to incur guilt before I meet my sentence. Let me kill this Omer, my master, and I shall die contented. It is for thy sake only I desire this. The king, laughing at this new mode of clearing his own justice, acquitted the wretch.

9. A master had taught a youth to wrestle; who, proud of his acquired skill, and possest of more strength than his master, wished to acquire fame at his expence, and challenged him to wrestle before the court. The master, by one trick, which he had not taught the youth, threw him at once: and, the youth complaining that he had not taught him all his art, the master said, No. I always provide against ingratitude.

10. A religious sitting by the highway, the king passed by; but the religious took no notice of him. A courtier saying “Do not you see the king?” was answered, I want nothing of him. Kings are made for subjects, not subjects for kings. Why then should I respect him who is the publick servant? This anecdote from Sadi differs much from present Eastern despotism.

11. A courtier went to his master, Suelnun, king of Egypt, and begged permission to retire; saying, “Though I am night and day anxious in thy service; yet the fear of once displeasing thee makes me wretched.” Suelnun, in tears, exclaimed, Ah, did I serve God, as thou thy king, I should be one of the just.

12. A king condemned an innocent man to death, who said, O king, thy anger rages against me, but will injure thyself. “How?” rejoined the king. Because my pain lasts but for a moment; but thine for ever. Pardon followed.

13. The courtiers of king Nourshivan consulting with him on important business, when the king had spoken, one of them assented to his opinion, against the rest. Being asked the cause, he said, Human affairs depend on chance, not on wisdom: and, if we err with the king, who shall condemn us? ...

17. A king saying to a Dervise, “Do you never think on me?” was answered, Yes: but it is when I forget God.

18. A Dervise, in a dream, saw a king in paradise, but a religious in hell, and thought that, upon enquiring the cause, he was told, The king used to keep company with Dervises; and the Dervise with kings.

19. Locman, the sage, being asked, where he learned virtue, he answered, Of the vicious, for they taught me what to shun.

20. Abu Hurura used often to visit Mustapha, who one day said to him, O Abu Hurura, visiting seldom feeds love and friendship.

21. Sadi, being taken prisoner by the Franks, or Christians, was redeemed for ten pieces of gold, by one, who also gave him his daughter in marriage, with one hundred pieces of gold as a dower. The lady, being a termagant, once reproached him with this; and he said, Yes, I was redeemed for ten pieces, and made a slave for a hundred.

22. Some wicked men using a religious very ill, he went to an old dervise, and complained much. The elder told him, Son, our habit is that of patience. Why do you wear it, if it does not fit you?

23. A sage seeing a strong man in a passion, asked the cause, and being told that it was on account of an affronting word, he exclaimed, O strong man, with a weak mind! who could bear an elephant’s load, yet cannot bear a word.

24. A lawyer gave his daughter, who was very deformed in marriage to a blind man. A celebrated oculist coming to the place, the lawyer was asked why he did not employ him for his son-in-law? To which he answered, Why should I endeavour to procure the divorce of my daughter?

25. Ardeschir enquiring of a physician, how much food was necessary for a day? was answered, eight ounces. Ardeschir said, “How can so little support a man?” The physician replied, That will support him; if he takes more, he must support it....

27. A robber said to a beggar, “Art thou not ashamed to stretch out thy hand to all for a piece of copper?” The beggar answered, It is better to stretch it out for a piece of copper, than have it cut off for a piece of gold.

29. Sadi being about to purchase a house, a Jew came up and said, “I am an old neighbour, and know the house to be good and sufficient. Buy it by all means.” Sadi answered, The house must be bad if thou art a neighbour....

31. An old man being asked, why he did not take a wife, answered, I do not like old women: and a young woman, I judge from that, can never like me.

32. A courtier sent a foolish son to be educated by a sage. He made no progress, and some time after the sage brought him back, saying, This boy will never be wiser; and he has even made me foolish in teaching him.

33. A king sent his son to an instructor, desiring him to educate the boy, as he did his own sons. The preceptor laboured in vain to teach the young prince, though his own sons made great progress. The king sending for him and reproaching him for this; he answered, O king, the education was the same, but the capacity differed. We find gold in the soil! yet gold is not found in every soil.

34. A man having sore eyes went to a mule-doctor, who gave him an ointment that struck him blind. The man brought his doctor before the cadi, who acquitted him; saying to the patient, If you had not been an ass, you would not have applied to a mule-doctor.

35. Sadi saw two boys, one the son of a rich man, the other of a poor, sitting in a cemetery. The former said “My father’s tomb is marble, marked with letters of gold: but what is your father’s? two turfs and a handful of dust spread over them.” The poor boy answered, Be silent. Before your father shall have moved his marble! mine shall be already in paradise.

36. Muhammed, the learned priest of Gasala, being asked, how he had acquired so much science? answered, I never was ashamed to ask and learn what I did not know....

Jalal uddin Rumi was another Persian who wrote a series of stories conveying moral maxims.

THE SICK SCHOOLMASTER

The boys of a certain school were tired of their teacher, as he was very strict in the exaction of diligence; so they consulted together for the best means of getting rid of him for a time. Said they, “Why does he not fall ill, so that he may be obliged to be away from school, and we be released from confinement and work? Alas! he stands as firm as a rock.” One of them, who was wiser than the rest, suggested this plan: “I shall go to the teacher, and ask him why he looks so pale, saying, ‘May it turn out well! But your face has not its usual color. Is it due to the weather, or to fever?’ This will create some alarm in his mind. Then you, brother,” he continued, turning to another boy, “must assist me by using similar words. When you come into the schoolroom you must say to the teacher, ‘I hope, sir, you are well.’ This will tend to increase his apprehension, even though in a slight degree; and you know that even slight doubts are often enough to drive a man mad. Then a third, a fourth, and a fifth boy must one after another express his sympathy in similar words, till at last, when thirty boys successively have given expression to words of like nature, the teacher’s apprehension will be confirmed.”

The boys praised his ingenuity, and wished each other success; and they bound themselves by solemn promises not to shirk doing what was expected of them. Then the first boy bade them take oaths of secrecy, lest some telltale should let the matter out.

Next morning the boys came to school in a cheerful mood, having resolved on adopting the foregoing plan. They all stood outside the schoolhouse, waiting for the arrival of the friend who had helped them in the time of need—since it was he who had originated the plan: it is the head that is the governor of the legs. The first boy arrived, entered the schoolroom, and greeted the teacher with “I hope you are well, sir, but the color of your face is very pale.”

“Nonsense!” said the teacher; “there is nothing the matter with me. Go and take your seat.” But inwardly he was somewhat apprehensive. Another boy came in, and in similar words greeted the teacher, whose misgivings were thereby somewhat increased. And so on, one boy after another greeted him, till his worst apprehensions seemed to be confirmed, and he was in great anxiety regarding the state of his health.

He got enraged at his wife. “Her love for me is waning,” he thought. “I am in this bad state of health, and she did not even ask what was the matter with me. She did not draw my attention to the color of my face. Perhaps she is not unwilling that I should die.”

Full of such thoughts, he came to his home, followed by the boys, and flung open the door. His wife exclaimed, “I hope nothing is the matter with you! Why have you returned so soon?”

“Are you blind?” he answered. “Look at the color of my face, and at my condition! Even strangers show sympathetic alarm about my health.”

“Well, I see nothing wrong,” said the wife. “You must be laboring under some senseless delusion.”

“Woman,” he rejoined impatiently, “you are most obstinate! Can you not perceive the altered hue of my face and the shivering of my body? Go and get my bed made, that I may lie down, for my head is dizzy.”

The bed was prepared, and the teacher lay down on it, giving vent to sighs and groans. The boys he ordered to sit there and read the lessons, which they did with much vexation. They said to themselves, “We did so much to be free, and still we are in confinement. The foundation was not well laid; we are bad architects. Some other plan must now be adopted, so that we may be rid of this annoyance.”

The clever boy who had instigated the first plot advised the others to read their lessons very loudly; and when they did so, he said, in a tone to be overheard by the teacher, “Boys, your voices disturb our teacher. Loud voices will only increase his headache. Is it proper that he should be made to suffer pain for the sake of the trifling fees he gets from us?”

The teacher said, “He is right. Boys, you may go. My headache has increased. Be off with you!” And the boys scampered away home as eagerly as birds fly toward a spot where they see grain.

The mothers of the boys, on seeing them return, got angry, and thus challenged them, “This is the time for you to learn writing, and you are engaged in play. This is the time for acquiring knowledge, and you fly from your books and your teacher.”

The boys urged that it was no fault of theirs, and that they were in no way to blame, for, by the decree of fate, their teacher had become very ill.

The mothers, disbelieving, said, “This is all deceit and falsehood. You would not scruple to tell a hundred lies to get a little quantity of buttermilk. To-morrow morning we shall go to the teacher’s house, and shall ascertain what truth there is in your assertions.”

So the next morning the mothers went to visit the teacher, whom they found lying in bed like a very sick person. He had perspired freely, owing to his having covered himself with blankets. His head was bandaged, and his face was covered with a kerchief. He was groaning in a feeble voice.

The ladies expressed their sympathy, hoped his headache was getting less, and swore by his soul that they had been unaware until quite lately that he was so ill.

“I, too,” said the teacher, “was unaware of my illness. It was through those little bastards that I learned of it.”

—Stories in Rime (Masnavi).

THE INVALID AND HIS DEAF VISITOR

A deaf man was informed that an neighbor of his was ill, so he resolved upon going to see him. “But,” said he to himself, “owing to my deafness I shall not be able to catch the words of the sick man, whose voice must be very feeble at this time. However, go I must. When I see his lips moving I shall be able to make a reasonably good conjecture of what he is saying. When I ask him, ‘How are you, oh, my afflicted friend?’ he will probably reply, ‘I am well,’ or ‘I am better.’ I shall then say, ‘Thanks be to God! Tell me, what have you taken for food?’ He will probably mention some liquid food or gruel. I shall then wish that the food may agree with him, and shall ask him the name of the physician under whose treatment he is. On his naming the man, I shall say, ‘He is a skilful leech. Since it is he who is attending upon you, you will soon be well. I have had experience of him. Wherever he goes, his patients very soon recover.”

So the deaf man, having prepared himself for the visit, went to the invalid’s bedside, and sat down near the pillow. Then, rubbing his hands together with assumed cheerfulness, he inquired, “How are you?” “I am dying,” replied the patient. “Thanks be to God!” rejoined the deaf man.

The sick man was troubled in his heart, and said to himself, “What kind of thanksgiving is this? Surely he must be an enemy of mine!”—little thinking that his visitor’s remark was but the result of wrong conjecture.

“What have you been eating?” was the next question; to which the reply was, “Poison!” “May it agree with you,” was the wish expressed by the deaf man which only increased the other’s vexation.

“And pray, who is your physician?” again asked the visitor, “Azrael, the Angel of Death. And now, be-gone with you!” growled the invalid. “Oh, is he?” pursued the deaf man. “Then you ought to rejoice, for he is a man of auspicious footsteps. I saw him only just now, and asked him to devote to you his best possible attention.”

With these words he bade the sick man good-by, and withdrew, rejoicing that he had satisfactorily performed a neighborly duty. Meanwhile, the other man was angrily muttering to himself, “This fellow is an implacable foe of mine. I did not know his heart was so full of malignity.”

—Stories in Rime (Masnavi).

OLD AGE—DIALOGUE

Old Man. I am in sore trouble owing to my brain.

Physician. The weakness of the brain is due to old age.

Old Man. Dark spots are floating before my eyes.

Physician. That, too, comes from old age, oh, venerable sheikh!

Old Man. My back aches very much.

Physician. The result of old age, oh, lean sheikh!

Old Man. No food that I take agrees with me.

Physician. The failure of the digestive organs is also due to old age.

Old Man. I am afflicted with hard breathing.

Physician. Yes, the breathing ought to be affected in that manner. When old age comes, it brings a hundred complaints in its train.

Old Man. My legs are getting feeble, and I am unable to walk much.

Physician. It is nothing but old age which obliges you to sit in a corner.

Old Man. My back has become bent like a bow.

Physician. This trouble is merely the consequence of old age.

Old Man. My eyesight is quite dim, oh, sage physician!

Physician. Nothing but old age, oh, wise man!

Old Man. Oh, you idiot, always harping on the same theme! Is this all you know of the science of medicine? Fool, does not your reason tell you that God has assigned a remedy to every ailment? You are a stupid ass, and with your paltry stock of learning are still fumbling in the mire!

Physician. Oh, you dotard past sixty, know, then, that even this rage and fury is due to old age!

From Abu Ishak we glean this delightful bit of parody on Hafiz.

PARODY ON HAFIZ
Hafiz	Abu-Ishak
Will those who can transmute dust into gold by looking at it ever give a sidelong glance at us?	Will those who sell cooked sheep’s-head give us a sidelong glance, when they open their pots in the morning?
The beauteous Turk, who is the cause of death to her lovers, has to-day gone forth intoxicated. Let us see from whose eyes the heart’s blood shall begin to flow.	The cook has to-day bought onions for giving a relish to minced meat. Let us see, now, from whose eyes tears shall begin to flow.
I have a yearning for seclusion and peace. But, oh! those narcissus-like eyes! The commotion they cause me is inexpressible!	I have an inclination for abstinent living and observing fasts. But, oh! in what a tempting way doth the roasted lamb wink at me!
No one should give up his heart and his religion in the expectation of faithfulness from his sweetheart. My having done so has resulted to me in lifelong repentance. And from	No one should partake of sauce to accompany sweetened rice colored with saffron. My having done so has given me cause for infinite regret.

Do-Pyazah
THESE DEFINITIONS

Angel. A hidden telltale.

King. The idlest man in the country.

Minister of State. The target for the arrows of the sighs of the oppressed.

Flatterer. One who drives a profitable trade.

Lawyer. One ready to tell any lie.

Fool. An official, for instance, who is honest.

Physician. The herald of death.

Widow. A woman in the habit of praising her husband when he is gone.

Poet. A proud beggar.

Mirror. One that laughs at you to your face.

Bribe. The resource of him who knows he has a bad cause.

National Calamity. A ruler who cares for nothing but the pleasures of the harem.

Salutation. A polite hint to others to get up and greet you with respect.

Priest Calling to Prayers. A disturber of the indolent.

Faithful Friend. Money.

Truthful Man. One who is regarded as an enemy by every one.

Silence. Half consent.

Service. Selling one’s independence.

Hunting. The occupation of those who have no work to do.

Mother-in-Law. A spy domiciled in your house.

Debtor. An ass in a quagmire.

Liar. A person making frequent use of the expression, “I swear to God it is true!”

Guest. One in your house who is impatient to hear the dishes clatter.

Poverty. The consequence of marriage.

Hunger. Something which falls to the lot of those out of employment.

Soporific. Reading the verses of a dull poet.

Druggist. One who wishes everybody to be ill.

Learned Man. One who does not know how to earn his livelihood.

Miser’s Eye. A vessel which is never full.

DIVING FOR AN EGG—ANECDOTE

The Emperor Akbar was one day sitting with his attendants in the garden of the palace, close to a large cistern full of water. At the suggestion of a courtier, the emperor commanded some of the men present to procure an egg each, and to place it in the cistern in such a manner that it could easily be found when searched for.

Soon after the order had been obeyed, the Mollah Do-pyazah came to this spot. Akbar then turned to his attendants, saying he had dreamed the night before that there were eggs in the cistern, and that all who were his faithful servants had dived in, and brought out an egg. Whereupon the attendants one by one dived into the water, each one issuing forth with an egg in his hand. Do-pyazah, not disposed himself to enter the water, the emperor asked why he alone held aloof. The mollah, thus pressed, divested himself of his outer garments and plunged in.

He searched for a long time, but could not find a single egg. At length he emerged from the cistern, and, moving his arms in the manner of a cock flapping his wings, he cried aloud, “Cock-a-doodle-doo!”

“What,” asked Akbar, “is the meaning of this?”

“Your Majesty,” came the reply, “those who brought you the eggs were hens, but I am a cock, and you must not expect an egg from me.”

At which Akbar laughed heartily, and had Do-pyazah well rewarded.

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The Chinese are more noted for their wit that is wisdom, than for their humor.

Confucius, doubtless the greatest of their philosophers, born 551 B.C., left many sayings which became proverbs, yet which embodied only the elementary morality of all ages and races.

These are some of the sayings from The Analects of Confucius.

“While a man’s father is alive, look at the bent of his will; when his father is dead, look at his conduct.”

“An accomplished scholar is not a cooking-pot.”

“When good order prevailed in his country, Ning Wu acted the part of a wise man; when his country was in disorder, he acted the part of a fool. Others may equal his wisdom, but they cannot equal his folly.”

“How can one know about death, when one does not understand life?”

“Four horses cannot overtake the tongue.”

“If you were not covetous, you could not even bribe a man to steal from you.”

“When their betters love the Rules [of Propriety], then the folk are easy tools.”

“Why use an ox-knife to kill a hen?”

“There are two classes that never change: the supremely wise and the profoundly stupid.”

“If a man is disliked at forty, he always will be.”

“When driving with a woman, hold the reins in one hand and keep the other behind your back.”

Chwang Tze, another ancient, wrote much of life, death and immortality, but showed little sense of humor therein.

One of his anecdotes, in lighter vein, follows.

THE PLEASURE OF FISHES—ANECDOTE

Chwang Tze and a friend had strolled on to a bridge over the Hao, when the former observed, “Look how the minnows are darting about! That is the pleasure of fishes.”

“Not being a fish yourself,” objected the friend, “how can you possibly know in what the pleasure of fishes consists?”

“And you not being I,” retorted Chwang Tze, “how can you know that I do not know?”

To which the friend replied, “If I, not being you, cannot know what you know, it follows that you, not being a fish, cannot know in what the pleasure of fishes consists.”

“Let us go back,” rejoined Chwang Tze, “to your original question. You ask me how I know in what the pleasure of fishes consists. Well, I know that I am enjoying myself over the Hao, and from this I infer that the fishes are enjoying themselves in it.”—Autumn Floods.

Sung Yu gives us this satirical outburst about

POPULARITY

The eagle is king of the birds; among fishes

Leviathan holds the first place.

Cleaving the far, crimson clouds,

The eagle soars upward apace,

With only the blue sky above,

Into remote realms of space;

But the grandeur of heaven and earth

Is naught to the hedge-sparrow race.

The whale through one oceans swims,

To take its course through a second;

While the minnow measures a puddle

As the width of the sea might be reckoned.

And just as with birds and fishes,

Is the case, to be sure, with man.

Here soars a resplendent eagle,

There swims one huge leviathan:

Behold the philosopher sapient,

Whose fame will never grow dim;

Alone in the might of his wisdom—

Can the rabble understand him?

Yuan Mei, however, possessed a satiric humor so keen as to place him among the true wits.

His letter to a friend might have been written today and his Cookery Notes are such as are found in our current comics.

A STANZA FOR A TOBACCO-POUCH

Dear Friend:

I have received your letter of congratulation, and am much obliged. At the end of the letter, however, you mention that you have a tobacco-pouch for me, which will be forwarded upon the receipt of a stanza. But such an exchange would seem to establish a curious precedent. If for a tobacco pouch you expect in return a stanza, for a hat or a pair of boots you would demand a whole poem; while your brother might bestow a cloak or coat upon me, and believe himself entitled to an epic. At this rate, dear friend, your congratulations would become rather costly to me.

Let me instruct you, on the other hand, that a man once gave a thousand yards of silk for a phrase, and another man a beautiful girl for a stanza—which makes your tobacco-pouch look like a slight inducement, does it not?

Mencius forbids the taking advantage of people on the ground of one’s rank or merits. How much worse, therefore, to do so by virtue of a mere tobacco-pouch! Elegant as a tobacco-pouch may be, it is only the work of a sempstress; but my poetry, poor as it may be, is the work of my brain. The exchange would evidently be complimentary to the sempstress, and the reverse to me.

Now, if you had taken needle and thread and made the pouch yourself—ah, then what a difference! Then, indeed, a dozen stanzas would not have been too great a return. But it would hardly be proper to ask a famous warrior like yourself to lay down sword and shield for needle and thread. Nor, dear friend, am I likely to get the pouch at all, if you take offense at these little jokes of mine. What I advise you to do is, to bear with me patiently, send the tobacco-pouch, and wait for the stanza until it comes.

—Letters.

RECIPES

Birds’ nests and water-slugs have no particular flavor of their own, and are therefore not worth eating.

The best cook cannot prepare artistically more than five or six different dishes in one day. A host of mine once had forty courses served at a meal, and as soon as I got home I called for a bowl of rice to still my hunger.

In order to enjoy the pleasures of the palate to the fullest degree, you must be sober. If you are drunk, you cannot tell one flavor from another.

The ingredients of a dish should always harmonize with one another—like two people in marriage.

Some cooks use the flesh of chickens and pigs for one soup, and as chickens and pigs have souls, they will hold those cooks to account, in the next world, for their treatment of them in this.

Bamboo-shoots ought never to be cut with a knife which has just been used on onions.

While cooking, do not allow ashes from your pipe, perspiration from your face, soot from the fuel, or beetles from the ceiling to drop into the saucepan: the guests would be likely to pass the dish by.—Cookery Book

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The following proverbs are generally attributed to the Chinese, some of them being the wisdom of Confucius.

PROVERBS

An avaricious man, who can never get enough, is like a snake trying to swallow an elephant.

To draw the picture of a tiger, and make a dog out of it, is to imitate a masterpiece and spoil it.

Human pleasures are like the flittings of sparrows.

A narrow-minded man resembles a frog in a well.

Do not pull up your stockings in a melon-patch, or straighten your hat in a peach orchard; any one seeing you may think you are stealing.

To talk much and arrive nowhere is the same as climbing a tree to catch a fish.

One thread does not make a rope.

The tiger does not walk with the hind.

You can neither buy wood in the forest nor fish by the lake.

If a blind man leads another blind man, they will both fall into a hole.

No maker of idols worships the gods; he knows their composition too well.

A man with a purple nose may be very temperate in drink, only no one will believe it.

Money makes the blind man see.

We admire our own writings, but other men’s wives.

If you are afraid of being found out, leave it alone.

Bend your neck if the eaves are low.

It’s not the wine that makes a man drunk; it’s the man himself.

A whisper on earth sounds like thunder in heaven.

To get a favor granted is harder than to kill a tiger.

Sweep the snow from your own door.

If there were no error there could be no truth.

A needle never pricks with both ends.

Don’t put two saddles on one horse.

Trust nature rather than a bad doctor.

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The Japanese offer little that can be quoted. Their comedies are long and not very funny, their wit is heavy and bitterly satirical.

One specimen is given from The Land of Dreams by Kiokutei Bakin.

ON CLOTHES AND COMFORTS

However much money you have, you will not keep it long; it will leave you, just like a traveler who has stayed overnight at an inn. The only substantial things in life are food and drink. Any little house you can just crawl into is large enough. The only difference between an emperor’s palace and a straw hut is in their size and their situation, one being in town and the other in the country. A single room, with a mat long enough for you to stretch out your whole body, is quite sufficient lodging. As for the clothes which you dress your carcass in, the richest brocades and the commonest sackcloth differ only in being clean or dirty. After you are dead, no one can tell, from looking at your naked body, what sort of clothes you wore while alive. If these facts were to become recognized, our clothes would be patched with any sort of material or color. Now, however, a man will buy new, expensive garments which he does not really want, owe the money for them, strut about in these borrowed plumes, and finally pawn them.

—The Land of Dreams.

COLLECTIONS

Apologues and stories, now common to all the world, had their origin in remote antiquity. Eastern narratives were for the most part brought to Europe orally, but some were later translated from the Oriental writings.

Since at first, Religion and Learning went hand in hand, these stories were of a moral and instructive nature. Their wit was the wit of wisdom, the pithiness of graphic representation of truth.

But with the development of the wit of amusement, the rise of ribald laughter and the supremacy of priests and monks, the stories took on a mirthful character which may or may not have added to their efficacy as cautionary teachings.

Humor, then, as now, was founded on the feeling of superiority which comes from knowledge. The stories were invariably of the discomfiture of some foolish person, and thereby, either definitely or tacitly advised against that particular foolishness.

Narrative fiction was entirely in parables or apologues, the latter term having come to be used exclusively for the tales in which animals are invested with human traits.

Fables, also, is a term usually restricted to moral lessons taught by anecdotes of beasts in human conditions.

As usual in the matter of legendary literature various countries contend for the honor of producing the first fables.

The bestowal of the palm rests between the Hindus and the Hebrews, but the decision may never be made.

A plausible assumption for the necessity of fables lies in the fact that it was not the part of wisdom openly to administer reproof or advice to the Asiatic potentates, wherefore it was done by the device of speaking through the mouths of the fictitious characters.

And, through the ages, this plan has been found to work with intractables of less celebrity.

But the question of the origin of these stories is outside our Outline,—we may merely state that before, during and after the Crusades, the flood of stories and tales from the Orient into Europe was continuous.

Which accounts for the fact that among the oldest stories of the various countries, duplicates are always found, and the ancient jests of the Far East have raised and will raise appreciative laughter as they are translated into all European tongues, including the Scandinavian.

As religion gave rise to laughter, so religion was the medium for disseminating mirth.

The preachers of the mediæval ages used many amusing stories in their sermons and the monks often preserved these, with additions of their own, in enduring literature.

But literature then was not in the form of circulating libraries, so the tales traveled from mouth to mouth, gaining sometimes in interest and sometimes losing charm or worth.

Perhaps about the tenth century translations began to be grouped into collections, in Europe, and among the first was the Greek version of the Fables of Pilpay. Soon after came the Book of Sindibad, which would seem to be the original form of the story of Scheherazade.

But in most cases the monks were the go-between.

Their zeal and indefatigability produced masses of material, primarily designed for the use of preachers, but easily adopted by the laymen.

The Sermones of Jacques de Vitry, Crusader and prelate, and the Liber de Donis of Etienne de Bourbon are both remarkable collections that predated and later gave material to the Gesta Romanorum.

As an instance of the ubiquity of stories, it may be mentioned here that in both the books above noticed, occurs the old tale of the husband who had two wives, the younger one of whom plucked out all his gray-white hairs, the older one plucked out all his black hairs, leaving the poor chap entirely bald. This story is also in the Talmud, in Chinese Jestbooks and in innumerable others.

So with many of the ancient tales. They come down through the Fabliaux, Gesta Romanorum, the Heptameron, the Decameron and on to our own dinner tables, where many of the “latest” are merely rehashed witticisms of the ancient monks and priests.

Nor are the stories fastened on to celebrities often authentic. Many of Sydney Smith’s witticisms hark back to the Eastern Tales, most of Joe Miller’s jests have similar paternity.

Hierocles made a famous collection of old stories translated into Greek. Others followed rapidly even before the invention of printing.

After that achievement, collections of stories flooded the book mart even as they do today.

Selections from various collections follow.

Perhaps the oldest collection of tales in the world is that known as the Fables of Bidpai or Pilpay. Both author and date of production are unknown, but tradition tells us that they were written in Sanscrit and were the work of one Vishnu Sarma, who wrote them for the advice and edification of certain princes. The book is enormously long and though not of humorous intent shows much of the native wit of the country.

Fables
THE GREEDY AND AMBITIOUS CAT

There was formerly an old Woman in a village, extremely thin, half-starved, and meager. She lived in a little cottage as dark and gloomy as a fool’s heart, and withal as close shut up as a miser’s hand. This miserable creature had for the companion of her wretched retirements a Cat meager and lean as herself; the poor creature never saw bread, nor beheld the face of a stranger, and was forced to be contented with only smelling the mice in their holes, or seeing the prints of their feet in the dust. If by some extraordinary lucky chance this miserable animal happened to catch a mouse, she was like a beggar that discovers a treasure; her visage and her eyes were inflamed with joy, and that booty served her for a whole week; and out of the excess of her admiration, and distrust of her own happiness, she would cry out to herself, “Heavens! Is this a dream, or is it real?” One day, however, ready to die for hunger, she got upon the ridge of her enchanted castle, which had long been the mansion of famine for cats, and spied from thence another Cat, that was stalking upon a neighbour’s wall like a Lion, walking along as if she had been counting her steps, and so fat that she could hardly go. The old Woman’s Cat, astonished to see a creature of her own species so plump and so large, with a loud voice, cries out to her pursy neighbour, “In the name of pity, speak to me, thou happiest of the Cat kind! why, you look as if you came from one of the Khan of Kathai’s feasts; I conjure ye, to tell me how, or in what region it is that you get your skin so well stuffed?” “Where?” replied the fat one; “why, where should one feed well but at a King’s table? I go to the house,” continued she, “every day about dinner-time, and there I lay my paws upon some delicious morsel or other, which serves me till the next, and then leave enough for an army of mice, which under me live in peace and tranquillity; for why should I commit murder for a piece of tough and skinny mouse flesh, when I can live on venison at a much easier rate?” The lean Cat, on this, eagerly inquired the way to this house of plenty, and entreated her plump neighbour to carry her one day along with her. “Most willingly,” said the fat Puss; “for thou seest I am naturally charitable, and thou art so lean that I heartily pity thy condition.” On this promise they parted; and the lean Cat returned to the old Woman’s chamber, where she told her dame the story of what had befallen her. The old Woman prudently endeavoured to dissuade her Cat from prosecuting her design, admonishing her withal to have a care of being deceived. “For, believe me,” said she, “the desires of the ambitious are never to be satiated, but when their mouths are stuffed with the dirt of their graves. Sobriety and temperance are the only things that truly enrich people. I must tell thee, poor silly Cat, that they who travel to satisfy their ambition, have no knowledge of the good things they possess, nor are they truly thankful to Heaven for what they enjoy, who are not contented with their fortune.”

The poor starved Cat, however, had conceived so fair an idea of the King’s table, that the old Woman’s good morals and judicious remonstrances entered in at one ear and went out at the other; in short, she departed the next day with the fat Puss to go to the King’s house; but alas! before she got thither, her destiny had laid a snare for her. For being a house of good cheer, it was so haunted with cats, that the servants had, just at this time, orders to kill all the cats that came near it, by reason of a great robbery committed the night before in the King’s larder by several grimalkins. The old Woman’s Cat, however, pushed on by hunger, entered the house, and no sooner saw a dish of meat unobserved by the cooks, but she made a seizure of it, and was doing what for many years she had not done before, that is, heartily filling her belly; but as she was enjoying herself under the dresser-board, and feeding heartily upon her stolen morsels, one of the testy officers of the kitchen, missing his breakfast, and seeing where the poor Cat was solacing herself with it, threw his knife at her with such an unlucky hand, that he stuck her full in the breast. However, as it has been the providence of Nature to give his creature nine lives instead of one, poor Puss made a shift to crawl away, after she had for some time shammed dead: but, in her flight, observing the blood come streaming from her wound; “Well,” said she, “let me but escape this accident, and if ever I quit my old hold and my own mice for all the rarities in the King’s kitchen, may I lose all my nine lives at once.”

A RAVEN, A FOX, AND A SERPENT

A Raven had once built her nest for many seasons together in a convenient cleft of a mountain, but however pleasing the place was to her, she had always reason enough to resolve to lay there no more; for every time she hatched, a Serpent came and devoured her young ones. The Raven complaining to a Fox that was one of her friends, said to him, “Pray tell me, what would you advise me to do to be rid of this Serpent?” “What do you think to do?” answered the Fox. “Why, my present intent is,” replied the Raven, “to go and peck out his eyes when he is asleep, that so he may no longer find the way to my nest.” The Fox disapproved this design, and told the Raven, that it became a prudent person to manage his revenge in such a manner, that no mischief might befall himself in taking it: “Never run yourself,” says he, “into the misfortune that once befell the Crane, of which I will tell you the Fable.”

THE CRANE AND THE CRAY-FISH

A Crane had once settled her habitation by the side of a broad and deep lake, and lived upon such fish as she could catch in it; these she got in plenty enough for many years; but at length being become old and feeble, she could fish no longer. In this afflicting circumstance she began to reflect, with sorrow, on the carelessness of her past years; “I did ill,” said she to herself, “in not making in my youth necessary provision to support me in my old age; but, as it is, I must now make the best of a bad market, and use cunning to get a livelihood as I can”: with this resolution she placed herself by the waterside, and began to sigh and look mighty melancholy. A Cray-fish, perceiving her at a distance, accosted her, and asked her why she appeared so sad? “Alas,” said she, “how can I otherwise choose but grieve, seeing my daily nourishment is like to be taken from me? for I just now heard this talk between two fishermen passing this way: said the one to the other, Here is great store of fish, what think you of clearing this pond? to whom his companion answered, no; there is more in such a lake: let us go thither first, and then come hither the day afterwards. This they will certainly perform; and then,” added the Crane, “I must soon prepare for death.”

The Cray-fish, on this, went to the fish, and told them what she had heard: upon which the poor fish, in great perplexity, swam immediately to the Crane, and addressing themselves to her, told her what they had heard, and added, “We are now in so great a consternation, that we are come to desire your protection. Though you are our enemy, yet the wise tell us, that they who make their enemy their sanctuary, may be assured of being well received: you know full well that we are your daily food; and if we are destroyed, you, who are now too old to travel in search of food, must also perish; we pray you, therefore, for your own sake, as well as ours, to consider, and tell us what you think is the best course for us to take.” To which the Crane replied, “That which you acquaint me with, I heard myself from the mouths of the fishermen; we have no power sufficient to withstand them; nor do I know any other way to secure you, but this: it will be many months before they can clear the other pond they are to go about first: and, in the mean time, I can at times, and as my strength will permit me, remove you one after another into a little pond here hard by, where there is very good water, and where the fishermen can never catch you, by reason of the extraordinary depth.” The fish approved this counsel, and desired the Crane to carry them one by one into this pond. Nor did she fail to fish up three or four every morning, but she carried them no farther than to the top of a small hill, where she eat them: and thus she feasted herself for a while.

But one day, the Cray-fish, having a desire to see this delicate pond, made known her curiosity to the Crane, who, bethinking herself that the Cray-fish was her most mortal enemy, resolved to get rid of her at once, and murder her as she had done the rest; with this design she flung the Cray-fish upon her neck, and flew towards the hill. But when they came near the place, the Cray-fish, spying at a distance the small bones of her slaughtered companions, mistrusted the Crane’s intention, and laying hold of a fair opportunity, got her neck in her claw, and grasped it so hard, that she fairly saved herself, and strangled the Crane.

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“This example,” says the Fox, “shows you, that crafty tricking people often become victims to their own cunning.” The Raven, returning thanks to the Fox for his good advice, said, “I shall not by any means neglect your wholesome instructions; but what shall I do?” “Why,” replied the Fox, “you must snatch up something that belongs to some stout man or other, and let him see what you do, to the end he may follow you. Which that he may easily do, do you fly slowly; and when you are just over the Serpent’s hole, let fall the thing that you hold in your beak or talons whatever it be, for then the person that follows you, seeing the Serpent come forth, will not fail to knock him on the head.” The Raven did as the Fox advised him, and by that means was delivered from the Serpent.

THE MERCHANT AND HIS FRIEND

A Certain Merchant, said Kalila, pursuing her discourse, had once a great desire to make a long journey. Now in regard that he was not very wealthy, it is requisite, said he to himself, that before my departure I should leave some part of my estate in the city, to the end that if I meet with ill luck in my travels, I may have wherewithal to keep me at my return. To this purpose he delivered a great number of bars of iron, which were a principal part of his wealth, in trust to one of his friends, desiring him to keep them during his absence; and then taking his leave, away he went. Some time after, having had but ill luck in his travels, he returned home; and the first thing he did was to go to his Friend, and demand his iron: but his Friend, who owed several sums of money, having sold the iron to pay his own debts, made him this answer: “Truly friend,” said he, “I put your iron into a room that was close locked, imagining it would have been there as secure as my own gold; but an accident has happened which nobody could have suspected, for there was a rat in the room eat it all up.” The Merchant, pretending ignorance, replied, “It is a terrible misfortune to me indeed; but I know of old that rats love iron extremely; I have suffered by them many times before in the same manner, and therefore can the better bear my present affliction.” This answer extremely pleased the Friend, who was glad to hear the Merchant so well inclined to believe that the rats had eaten his iron; and to remove all suspicions, desired him to dine with him the next day. The Merchant promised he would, but in the mean time he met in the middle of the city one of his Friend’s children; the child he carried home, and locked up in a room. The next day he went to his Friend, who seemed to be in great affliction, which he asked him the cause of, as if he had been perfectly ignorant of what had happened. “Oh, my dear friend,” answered the other, “I beg you to excuse me, if you do not see me so cheerful as otherwise I would be; I have lost one of my children; I have had him cried by sound of trumpet, but I know not what is become of him.” “Oh!” replied the Merchant, “I am grieved to hear this; for yesterday in the evening, as I parted from hence, I saw an owl in the air with a child in his claws; but whether it were yours I cannot tell.” “Why, you most foolish and absurd creature!” replied the Friend, “are you not ashamed to tell such an egregious lie? An owl, that weighs at most not above two or three pounds, can he carry a boy that weighs above fifty?” “Why,” replied the merchant, “do you make such a wonder at that? as if in a country where one rat can eat an hundred ton weight of iron, it were such a wonder for an owl to carry a child that weighs not above fifty pounds in all.” The Friend, upon this, found that the Merchant was no such fool as he took him to be, begged his pardon for the cheat which he designed to have put upon him, restored him the value of his iron, and so had his son again.

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Other and very ancient Hindoo stories follow.

THE MAID, THE MONKEY, AND THE MENDICANT

On the banks of the Ganges there was once a city named Makandi. And in a temple, not far from the river, there lived a religious mendicant with a large number of disciples. He was a great rogue, but to impress the minds of the credulous people of the neighbourhood, he affected to be perfectly indifferent to all worldly affairs, and even went so far as to have taken a vow of perpetual silence. Now, in this city there resided a wealthy merchant, who believed in the mendicant, and was one of his devoted followers. The merchant had a beautiful daughter, who had just come of age, and who, entertaining a tender feeling for a handsome prince who lived in the neighbourhood, had begun to communicate with him by means of a confidential servant. One day the mendicant came on a begging excursion to the house of the merchant, and his daughter, beautifully dressed, came out with a silver cup in her hand to give him alms. The beggar as soon as he saw her forgot his vow of perpetual silence, and exclaimed, “Oh! what a sight!” but immediately afterwards he was ashamed of the words which he had uttered, and hastened home to the temple. The merchant, who had heard these words, thought that there was something unusual in them, and followed the mendicant to his abode. The latter, on seeing him, said with tears in his eyes, “Friend, I know that you are greatly devoted to me, and I grieve to say that a great misfortune will come upon you. The marks upon the body of your beautiful daughter foretell the ruin of your family, and the loss of your wealth as soon as she is married.” These words frightened the merchant almost out of his wits, and he implored the hypocritical mendicant to tell him if there were any means of averting the catastrophe. “There is one remedy,” he replied, “but you will find it hard to practise. You must make a box with holes in the lid, in the form of a boat, and having administered a narcotic to your daughter, place her in it, and closing the box, put it into the Ganges with a lamp burning on it. The waters of the river will carry her to some distant country, where doubtless she will be married, but her marriage there will not affect your fortune here.” Pleased with this apparently disinterested advice, the silly merchant returned home, and did as he was told. Fortunately, however, for the girl, her confidential servant heard what was going to be done, and immediately informed the young prince, the girl’s lover, of the intentions of her father. At night he accordingly watched by the river, and as soon as the box was left there he got hold of it, and brought it home, and taking the sleeping girl out, put into her place a large and ferocious monkey, and, having closed the lid, sent it back to the river upon whose broad stream it was floated once more. In the meantime the mendicant was enjoying golden dreams about the future. Thinking to secure the girl for himself, he sent some of his disciples to the river side, and told them to get hold of the box as it came floating down the stream. He further enjoined them not to pay any attention to anything they might hear inside the box, but to bring it directly to him as soon as they found it. On the box being brought, he had it carried to his cell, and then told his disciples to remain at a distance, and not to disturb him, as he had to perform some religious ceremonies in connection with it. The disciples then retired, and the mendicant began to open the box with the most pleasing anticipations. But alas, the retribution of sin is often too near. The ferocious monkey, exasperated by his confinement, jumped out at once, and began to bite, scratch, and tear the poor mendicant in every way. The latter bawled out as loud as he could, but his disciples thinking that he was performing religious ceremonies, or fighting with the devil, did not come to his assistance. At last he succeeded in opening the door of his room, and got away with the loss of his nose and an ear. The monkey also bolted through the door, and disappeared into the jungle. The good people of Nakandi were much amused with the incident, and drove the mendicant out of the town. The merchant’s daughter was delighted to find herself with her lover, while her father, covered with shame, consoled himself with the idea that she had got a good husband.

ABOUT A WOMAN’S PROMISE

In the city of Madanpur there reigned a king, named Birbar. In the same city there lived a trader, called Hermyadutt, who had a daughter, by name Madansena. One day, in the season of spring, she went with her female friends to a garden, and when there met a young man, named Somdatt, the son of the merchant Dharmdatt. This young man fell violently in love with her at first sight, and involuntarily went up to her, and, taking hold of her hand, began to say, “If thou wilt not love me, I shall abandon my life on thy account.” The girl said, “You must not do so, for in doing this you will commit a great sin.” Somdatt replied, “Excessive love has pierced my heart. The fear of separation has burnt up my body. From the pain all my memory and intellect are lost, and at present, through my excess of love, I have no regard for virtue or sin. If you will give me a promise, I shall hope to live.” Madansena said, “On the fifth day from this I am going to be married, then I shall first meet you, and after that I shall go with my husband.” Having given this promise, and affirming it by oath, she went home.

On the fifth day after this she was married, and her husband took her to his house. After several days her sisters-in-law forcibly took her to her husband at night, but she would have nothing to do with him; and, when he wished to embrace her, she jerked him with her hand, and told the story of her promise to the merchant’s son. Hearing this, her husband said, “If thou truly wishest to go with him, then go.”

Having thus obtained her husband’s consent, she put on her best clothes and jewels, and started for the merchant’s house. On her way she met a thief, who asked her where she was going alone at that midnight hour so adorned. She replied, “That she was going to meet her lover.” On hearing this, the thief said, “Who is your protector here?” She replied, “Kama, the god of love, with his weapons is my protector.” She then told the whole story to the thief, and said, “Do not spoil my attire. I promise you that, on my return, I will give you up all my jewels.”

The thief let her go, and she proceeded to the place where Somdatt was lying asleep. Awaking him suddenly, he arose bewildered, and asked her who she was, and why she had come. She replied, “I am the daughter of the merchant Hermyadutt. Do you not remember that you forcibly took my hand in the garden, and insisted on my giving you my oath, and I swore, at your bidding, that I would leave the man I was married to, and come to you. I have come accordingly; do to me whatever thou pleasest.”

Somdatt asked her if she had told the story to her husband, and she said that she had told him all, and that he had allowed her to come. The youth said: “This affair is like jewels without apparel; or food without clarified butter; or singing out of tune; all these things are alike. In the same way, dirty garments take away beauty, bad food saps the strength, a wicked wife takes away life, a bad son ruins the family. What a woman does not do is of little moment, for she does not give utterance to the thoughts of her mind; and what is at the tip of her tongue she does not reveal, and what she does, she does not tell of. God has created a woman in the world as a wonder.”

After uttering these words, the merchant’s son said: “I will have nothing to do with the wife of a stranger.” Hearing this, she returned homeward. On her way she met the thief, and told him the whole story. He applauded her highly, and let her go, and she went to her husband and related to him the whole circumstance. Her husband, however, evinced no affection for her, but said, “The beauty of the cuckoo consists in its note alone; the beauty of a woman consists in her fidelity to her husband; the beauty of an ugly man is his knowledge; the beauty of a devotee is his patient suffering.”

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Having related so much, the sprite said, “O king! whose is the highest merit of these three?” Vickram replied: “The thief’s merit is the greatest.” “How,” asked the sprite? The king answered: “Seeing that her heart was set on another man, the husband let her go; through fear of the king, Somdatt let her alone; whereas there was no reason for the thief leaving her unmolested; therefore the thief is superior.”

OF A QUEER RELATIONSHIP

There is a city in the south named Dhurumpoor, the king of which was named Mahabal. Once upon a time another king of the same region led an army against him, and invested his capital. After much fighting Mahabal was defeated, and, taking his wife and daughter with him, he fled by night into the jungle. After travelling several miles the day broke, and a village came in view. Leaving the queen and princess seated beneath a tree, he himself went to the village to get something to eat, and in the meantime a band of Bhils, or hill robbers, came and surrounded him, and told him to throw down his arms.

The king, on hearing this, commenced discharging arrows at them, and the Bhils did the same from their side. After fighting for some time, an arrow struck the king’s forehead with such force that he reeled and fell, and one of the Bhils came up and cut off his head. When the queen and the princess saw that the king was dead, they went back into the jungle weeping and beating their breasts. After going some distance they became tired and sat down, and began to be troubled with anxiety.

Now, it happened that a king named Chandrasen, together with his son, while pursuing game, came into that very jungle, and the king, noticing the footprints of the two women, said to his son, “How have the footprints of human feet come into this vast forest?” The prince replied, “These are women’s footprints, a man’s foot is not so small.” The king said, “Come let us look for them, and if we find them I will give her whose foot is the largest to thee, and I will take the other for myself.” Having entered into this mutual compact, they went forward, and soon perceived the two women seated on the ground. They were delighted at finding them, and seating them on their horses in the manner agreed upon, they brought them home. The prince took possession of the queen, as her feet were the largest, and the king took the princess, and they were married accordingly.

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Having related so much the sprite said, “Your majesty, what relationship will there be between the children of these two?” On hearing this, the king held his tongue through ignorance, being unable to describe the relationship.

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Hierocles’ collection of jests is mostly short anecdotes of pedants who are shown up as simpletons or noodles.

This principle of humor which is, of course, the rock bottom theory of the feeling of superiority induced by the discomfiture of the other man, often pins the jest on the pedant or scholar by way of emphasizing the point.

Hierocles was an Alexandrian Neoplatonic philosopher who lived in the Fifth Century A.D.

With authorship of the usual legendary haziness the collection may not have been made by him at all, but it passes for his work.

The stories themselves came into popular knowledge among the churchmen of the Middle Ages, and in their existing form probably date about the ninth century.

As will be seen from the following examples, many of the jests are still being used as the basis of Twentieth century after dinner stories and Comic Weekly jokes.

Jests of Hierocles

A scholar meeting a physician, said, I beg your pardon for never being sick, though you are one of my best friends.

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A scholar wishing to catch a mouse that eats his books, baited and set a trap, and sat by it to watch.

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A scholar wishing to teach his horse to eat little, gave him no food at all; and the horse dying, How unlucky, said he; as soon as I had taught him to live without food he died!

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A scholar meaning to sell a house, carried about a stone of it as a specimen.

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A scholar desiring to see if sleep became him, shut both his eyes, and went to the mirror.

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A scholar having bought a house, looked out of the window, and asked the passengers, If the house became him?

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A scholar dreaming he hit his foot on a nail, felt it pain him when he waked, and bound it up. Another scholar coming to see him, asked him, Why he went to bed without shoes.

A scholar being told the river had carried off a great part of his ground, answered, What shall I say?

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A scholar sealed a wine vessel he had, but his man bored the bottom and stole the liquor. He was astonished at the liquor’s diminishing, though the seal was entire; and another saying, “Perhaps it is taken out at the bottom.” The scholar answered, Most foolish of men, it is not the under part, but the upper that is deficient.

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A scholar meeting a person, said to him, “I heard you were dead.” To which the other answered, “You see I am alive.” The scholar replied, Perhaps so, but he who told me the contrary was a man of much more credit than you.

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A scholar hearing that crows lived two hundred years, bought one, saying, I wish to make the experiment.

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A scholar being on board a ship in a tempest, when the rest seized upon different articles to swim ashore on, he laid hold of the anchor.

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A scholar hearing one of two twins was dead, when he met the other, asked, Which of you was it that died? You or your brother?

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A scholar coming to a ferry, went into the boat on horseback. Being asked the reason, he said, I am in great haste.

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A scholar wanting money sold his books, and wrote to his father, Rejoice with me, for now my books maintain me.

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A scholar sending his son to war, the youth said, “I shall bring you back an enemy’s head.” To which the scholar replied, If you even lose your own head, I shall be happy to see you return in good health.

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A scholar in Greece receiving a letter from a friend, desiring him to buy some books there, neglected the business. But the friend arriving some time after, the scholar said, I am sorry I did not receive your letter about the books.

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A scholar, a bald man, and a barber, travelling together, agreed each to watch four hours at night, in turn, for the sake of security. The barber’s lot came first, who shaved the scholar’s head when asleep, then waked him when his turn came. The scholar scratching his head, and feeling it bald, exclaimed, You wretch of a barber, you have waked the bald man instead of me.

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Pope Alexander VII. asking the celebrated Greek, Leo Allatius, why he did not enter into orders? he answered, Because I desire to have it in my power to marry if I chuse. The pope adding, And why do you not marry? Leo replied, Because I desire to have it in my power to enter into orders if I chuse.

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Erasmus, himself a Satirist, collected thousands of the jests of the Greeks and Romans. These more often noted the wit than the witlessness of the speakers and include all degrees of wit from mere whimsicality to sharpest satire.

Some of the best ones follow.