“Upon the stream they got ’em.
The wind blew high; he blew his nose,
And—sent her to the bottom.”
She sunk, never again to rise, and the light-hearted husband leaped out of the boat and strolled along the river-side.
By and bye, a damp-looking old customer, half Neptune, half I don’t know what you may call it, comes walking up the river, just as coolly as a ship of war might float on the ocean, and as fresh as though he had only just got in for a dip, instead of having floated ever so many hundred miles.
“Salām alaykum,” says Yusuf, “I hope you’re well.”
“Peace, thou son of a swine,” says the stranger; “What do you mean by sending her there to bother us?”
“Who is it you mean, sir?”
“Who,” said the fierce little man, who was nothing more or less than the Jinn, or Spirit of the Water, “why her, to be sure, that vixen of a wife of yours, who has completely defiled the water. Why there is no peace any more in those regions, and I
have come forth to take a signal vengeance on you: now choose what death you like—hanging, tearing to pieces, or impaling.”
“Sir,” said Yusuf, very humbly, “if you, who are possessed of so much power, cannot control her temper, how could I, a miserable mortal, hope to manage her?”
There was so much truth in this assertion, that the Jinn calmed down amazingly. “My friend,” quoth he, “I see you’re a sensible man; you and I will henceforth unite our fortunes; so just have the kindness to step upon my shoulders, and we will be off like a lightning-flash for Baghdad.” Yusuf did as he was desired; and in the course of the next hour they were safely housed in Baghdad. Now the Caliph had an only daughter, who was reported beautiful as the morning star.