CHAPTER IX.
THE TWO FRIENDS
"Never forget your friends, Osman. I am glad you are so fond of Selim, although his family is poor. I hope you will always love him as you do now."
"Of course, papa. Selim is just like my brother. He always will be, too."
Osman looked up at his father with a little surprise. Forget Selim! He could not imagine such a thing.
"You ought to feel that way," said his father. "There is nothing so beautiful as friendship. I will tell you a true story about two boys who once lived in this very city."
Osman, with a happy smile, squatted on the rug by his father's side. There was nothing he liked better than a story.
"One of these boys," said the father, "was the son of a rich tobacconist. He was a Moslem, like ourselves, but his dearest friend was a little Armenian, whose father was a poor bread-seller and a Christian. The two boys were always together in work and play. After a while, their parents began to think, 'This is not good. A Christian and a Moslem should not be such close friends. We must not let this go on any longer.'