[ARTIN THE KURD.]
BY G. B. BURGIN.
I.
am not afraid of you," said the Rev. William P. Marsh. "You know very well that I am an American missionary and that you dare not touch me."
Karin the son of Artog looked somewhat ruefully at Oglou the son of Kizzil. "The infidel dog speaks truth," said he. "We must be careful, or the Vali's soldiers will hear of it, and it will take much bakshish to free us. What shall we do with him?"
Before Oglou the son of Kizzil could reply, the Rev. William P. Marsh took a small Bible from his pocket. "The subject of my discourse," he remarked, tucking a horse-blanket over his feet to keep off the cold, and comfortably resting his back against the side of the mountain—"the subject of my discourse this evening will be on the sinfulness of taking what does not belong to us. I shall be enabled to put more vigor into my remarks from the fact that you have robbed me of all my money, have likewise stolen my horse and saddle-bags. As I came to this country just to look after your miserable souls, it's pretty mean of you. However, we will now consider the subject in its primary aspects; thence we will touch upon original sin; and after that I propose to present for your prayerful consideration the subject of Kurdish sin, which seems to be a pretty big variety in itself."
He deliberately turned over the leaves of his well-thumbed Bible in search of an appropriate text for these two ruffians who had waylaid and robbed him within five miles of Kharput. Karin the son of Artog looked irresolutely at Oglou the son of Kizzil.