THE FAIR PERSIAN.
BY JAMES PAYN.
To those young ladies and gentlemen who are acquainted with the Arabian Nights, I foresee that the title of my tale will at once cause to spring up in their recollection the adventure of Nourhadeen and his fair Persian; that a vision will instantly present itself to their gaze of singing trees and dancing fountains, of hanging gardens, and groves of palm, and purses of sequins; and I am sure they will thank me for having recalled to their minds (though I didn't mean to do it) remembrances so charming. To other little folks, on the other hand, who have not read the Arabian Nights, my story will have none the less attraction, since it has no more to do with Nourhadeen than with their excellent grandmother (if they happen to have one), and the fair Persian is not a "young person" at all.
How it all happened was thus: It was papa's birthday, you see, and the children knowing—clever creatures—exactly when it was coming, had prepared a surprise for him. They knew his tastes to a nicety, and had put their money together and bought the present that he would be sure to welcome most. Only he was not to know what it was to be; and yet it being "such fun" to hear him guess, he was allowed three chances, and if he guessed right he was to be told. Only you mightn't say, "You're burning" (which is the same as "you're near it," you know), or anything more to help him than this, namely, that the present was "half alive and half not," and that "one part of it was within the other."
Papa said that he would rather not have been helped in this way, as it did him more harm than good, by putting all probable things—the guesses he would naturally have made—out of the question. The children gave him one minute to guess in, and not till fifty-nine seconds had gone by did he utter a syllable, and then he only said, "I give it up."
They thought it rather stupid of dear papa, but then, you see, they knew, and he didn't, which makes an immense difference in guessing.
Then he asked them to give him "a light"—not a light for his cigar, of course, for all this took place in the drawing-room—but a hint as to what the present was. Then they said, which was a pretty broad one, that it was "a fair Persian;" but even then he couldn't guess. "I have never heard," he said, twiddling his watch chain, "of any fair Persian, except in connection with Nourhadeen, and she was not half alive and half not." "Very good," said Polly, who had given the biggest subscription, and had therefore the best right to speak; "it is plain to us, dear papa, that you want more prompting. When I tell you that Nourhadeen, in this case, is a little basket house, with a lovely red rug in it, that will let the cat out of the bag;" whereupon dear, clever papa guessed it was a Persian cat.
But it wasn't, for it was only a kitten.
It didn't look like a kitten, however, being, when rolled up and asleep, a mere round fluffy black ball, and, when awake, a little black bear, looked at through the wrong end of a telescope. It would have taken about ten thousand of it to have made a real bear, and even then it would have been a small bear, only its tail was by no means small, but a splendid article. Otherwise it was so very tiny that it lay upon its red rug like an ink spot on a piece of blotting-paper. It had a fine house of basket-work, just like what Robinson Crusoe built for himself for a summer residence, with a sloping roof, and a little door that fastened with a pin outside, when he wished to be private; and as every house which has not a number must have a name (so that the postman may know where to leave the letters), it was called Nourhadeen (because of the fair Persian), and the tenant of it was called Fluffy.
Of course, since a gift is a gift, it was papa's own Fluffy, but that did not prevent its being the pet of the whole house, baby included; and to see these two little creatures together was (almost) as good as a play. One was so black, and the other so pink and white, and yet both so soft and warm, and about equal as to talking. For though baby could babble, he couldn't purr, and though Fluffy could purr, she couldn't babble, while neither could stand up on their hind-legs for more than two seconds together.