“Yes; I saw in my dream that you stooped and picked up something.”
“Then your dream was wrong,” hastily interposed the camel-driver, “for I have picked up nothing.”
“And lo! in my dream,” continued the wily servant, “I saw that the thing which you picked up was worthless, only a cheap thing which will bring you no gain.” The camel-driver here looking sad, the servant continued: “But the owner of that worthless thing is very anxious to find it, as although of no value in money, yet he cherishes it as a thing he loves.”
“But I told you,” repeats the camel-driver, “that I never picked up anything.”
“Then in my dream,” continues the servant, carefully ignoring the reiterated denial of the camel-driver, “I saw you glance at this useless object in your hand and then place it inside your aba” (cloak).
“No, no,” cries the driver, “I never picked it up.”
“So if you will let me show you where it is, I can relieve you of this worthless object.”
After a little more parleying of this sort, the camel-driver produces my husband’s watch and chain, and receives in return a small backsheesh. The servant, highly delighted with himself and his sagacity, smiled as he pockets in imagination the promised reward of five tomans (£1). The camel-driver confessed afterwards that he was so taken aback at the idea of his deeds being revealed in a dream to this man that he would not have kept the watch at any cost.
Needless to say the “dream” was only a faked one, manufactured to work on the superstitious mind of the simple camel-driver.
In Mosul the chief of the Seyyids once told the doctor a story relating to a remarkable dream. It was as follows. Two men once called on a mullah to question him regarding a matter which had been troubling them. The cause of their dispute was this. On going to their work each day these men passed a ladder leaning against a wall. One of the two always avoided going under lest it should fall and kill him; while the other said, “No, I will not run from danger, for whatever Allah has decreed must be. If it is written that I am to be killed by the ladder, I shall be.” So the two friends, after having spent much time in arguing this knotty question, decided to lay the matter before a mullah and leave the decision to him. The mullah listened to them both, but told them that such a serious question needed much thought. He appointed a day for them to return and hear his verdict. After their departure the mullah fell into a sleep, and in his sleep he dreamed. In the dream he beheld a beautiful boy, the son of a king whom his soul loved exceedingly; then later he met a stranger, who told him that he (the mullah) was to cause the death of the boy he loved so much. The mullah, filled with indignation, repudiated the idea, saying that he loved the boy too much to do him any harm. “Nevertheless,” said the stranger, “it must be, for Allah has decreed that the boy is to meet his death through you, and what is written is written.” The old mullah returned to his house troubled and sad at heart, but determined that he would do nothing that could in any way bring disaster to the boy. Still dreaming, the mullah received a summons to visit the young prince. Remembering the words of the stranger, he took with him nothing that could in any way injure the boy, contenting himself by taking with him one gift only—an apple. The boy received the mullah in his beautiful island home, and the two enjoyed some blissful hours of converse together.