All this was quickly observed by the Khoja, and after a few moments (during which no one asked him to be seated) he slipped out and ran home, where he put on the splendid fur pelisse which he had accepted from the Jew money-lender, and so returned to the door of the house of feasting.
Seeing a guest so richly apparelled draw near, the servants ran out to meet him with all signs of respect, and the master of the feast came out also to meet him with other guests, saluting him and saying, "Welcome, O most learned Khoja!" And all who knew him saluted him in like manner, and secretly blessed themselves that his acquaintance did them credit.
But the Khoja looked neither to the right hand nor to the left, and he made no reply.
Then they led him to the upper end of the table, crying, "Please to be seated, Khoja Effendi!"
Whereupon the Khoja seated himself, but he did not speak, and the guests stood round him, waiting to hear what should fall from his lips.
And when the Khoja had been served with food, he took hold of the sleeve of his pelisse and pulled it towards the dish, saying, in a tone of respect, "O most worthy and honourable pelisse! be good enough to partake of this dish. In the name of the Prophet I beseech you do not refuse to taste what has been hospitably provided."
"What is this, Khoja?" cried the people, "and what do you mean by offering food to a fur pelisse that can neither hear nor eat?"
"O most courteous entertainers!" replied the Khoja, "since the pelisse has commanded such respect at your hands, is it not proper that it should also partake of the food?"
Tale 3.—The Khoja's Slippers.