As the affair between Ali Cogia and the merchant was a new thing, and much talked of in the city of Bagdad, even among children, the rest of this youthful party fully agreed to the proposal, and each chose the character he would perform. No one disputed the part of the cadi with him who had made choice of it; and when he had taken his seat with all the pomp and gravity of a cadi, another, personating the officer who attends the tribunal, presented two others to him, one of whom he called Ali Cogia, and the next the merchant against whom Ali Cogia preferred his complaint.
The pretended cadi then addressed the feigned Ali Cogia. “Ali Cogia,” said he, “what do you require of this merchant?” He who personated this character then made a low bow, and informed the cadi of the facts, and concluded by beseeching him to be pleased to interpose his authority to prevent his sustaining so considerable a loss. The feigned cadi, after having listened to Ali Cogia, turned to the merchant, and asked him why he did not return to Ali Cogia the sum he demanded of him. This young merchant made use of the same arguments which the real one had alleged before the cadi of Bagdad, and also in the same manner asked him to suffer him to swear that what he said was the truth.
“Not so fast,” replied the pretended cadi; “before we come to swearing I should like to see the jar of olives. Ali Cogia,” said he, addressing the boy who acted this part, “have you brought the jar with you?” As the latter replied that he had not, he desired him to go and fetch it.
Ali Cogia disappeared for a few minutes, and then returning, pretended to bring a jar to the cadi, which he said was the same that had been deposited with the merchant, and was now returned to him. Not to omit any of the usual forms, the cadi asked the merchant if he owned it to be the same jar, and the merchant proving by his silence that he could not deny it, he ordered it to be opened. The feigned Ali Cogia then made a motion as if he were taking off the cover, and the cadi that of looking into the jar. “These are fine olives; let me taste,” said he. Then, pretending to take one to taste, he added: “They are excellent. But,” continued he, “I think that olives which have been kept seven years would not be so good. Order some olive merchants to be called, and let them give their opinion.” Two boys were then presented to him. “Are you olive merchants?” he inquired; to which they having replied in the affirmative, he added: “Tell me, then, if you know how long olives, that are prepared by people who make it their business, can be preserved good to eat?”
“Sir,” replied the feigned merchants, “whatever care may be taken to preserve them, they are worth nothing after the third year; they lose both their flavor and color, and are only fit to be thrown away.” “If that be the case,” resumed the young cadi, “look at this jar, and tell me how long the olives have been kept that are in it.”
The feigned merchants then pretended to examine and taste the olives, and told the cadi that they were fresh and good. “You are mistaken,” replied the cadi; “here is Ali Cogia, who says that he put them into the jar seven years ago.” “Sir,” said the merchants, “we can assure you that these olives are of this year’s growth, and we will maintain that there is not a single merchant in Bagdad who will not be of the same way of thinking.” The accused merchant was going to protest against this testimony of the others, but the cadi did not allow him time. “Silence!” said he; “thou art a thief, and shalt be hanged.” The children then clapped their hands, showed great marks of joy, and finished their game by seizing the supposed criminal, and carrying him off as if to execution.
It is impossible to express how much the Caliph Haroun-al-Raschid admired the wisdom and acuteness of the boy, who had pronounced so just a sentence on the very case which was to be pleaded before him on the morrow. Taking his eyes from the crevice, he rose, and asked the grand vizier, who had been attending to all that passed, if he had heard the sentence given by the boy, and what he thought of it. “Commander of the Faithful,” replied Giafar, “I am astonished at the wisdom evinced by this boy at so early an age.”
“But,” resumed the caliph, “do you know that to-morrow I am to give my decision on this very affair, and that the true Ali Cogia has this morning presented a petition to me on the subject?”
“So I understand from your majesty,” replied the grand vizier. “Do you think,” said the caliph, “that I can give a juster sentence than that we have now heard?” “If the affair be the same,” returned the grand vizier, “it appears to me that your majesty cannot proceed in a better manner, nor give any other judgment.” “Notice well this house, then,” said the caliph, “and bring me the boy to-morrow, that he may judge the same cause in my presence. Order the cadi, also, who acquitted the merchant, to be at the palace, that he may learn his duty from this child, and correct his deficiencies. I desire, too, that you will tell Ali Cogia to bring with him his jar of olives, and do you procure two olive merchants to be present at the audience.” The caliph gave this order as he continued his walk, which he finished without meeting with anything else that deserved his attention.
On the morrow the grand vizier repaired to the house where the caliph had been witness to the game the children had played at, and he asked to speak to the master of it, but he being gone out, he was introduced to the mistress. He asked her if she had any children; she replied that she had three, whom she brought to him. “My children,” said he to them, “which of you acted the cadi last night as you were playing together?” The eldest replied that it was he; and as he was ignorant of the reason for this question, he changed color. “My child,” said the grand vizier, “come with me; the Commander of the Faithful wishes to see you.”