"Certainly I do," replied the shopkeeper, "and let me tell you it is very cheap at that price."
Abdul Karim pictured the disappointment of his wife. "Poor Zeeba," he sighed.
"Poor who?" said the silk merchant.
"My wife," said Abdul Karim.
"What have I to do with your wife?" asked the merchant, getting angry because he saw that all his trouble was in vain.
"I will tell you about it," said Abdul Karim. "Because I did my work well, my master gave me ten krans, the first time I ever have had any money. After giving two krans to the shrine, I intended to buy a piece of silk for my wife, a horse and sword for my little boy Yusuf, and an Indian handkerchief and a pair of gold slippers for my little girl Fatima. And here you ask me two hundred krans for one piece of silk. How can I pay you and buy the other things?"
"Here I have been wasting my time and rumpling my beautiful silks for a fool like you," cried the angry merchant. "Get out of my shop! Go home to your stupid Zeeba and your stupid children. Buy them some stale cakes and some black sugar, and don't put your head in my shop again, or it will be worse for you."
Then he took off his slipper, and with many blows drove poor Abdul Karim out into the street. Then Abdul Karim went to the horse market, only to find that the lowest-priced horse would cost two hundred and fifty krans.
The horse dealer mocked him when they found he had only eight krans, and suggested that he buy the sixteenth part of a donkey for his little son. As for a sword, he found that it would cost at least thirty krans; while a pair of golden slippers would run into many hundreds of krans; and for an Indian handkerchief, the price was twelve krans.