"Listen, uncle!" she said.

"Yes."

"Won't you make me a dress of wood? I'll pay you as much as you want."

"Yes," he answered, "I'll make you one."

"In that case," she suggested, "hide me here in your shop until you finish it. And if someone should come by, beware of telling them you've seer me!"



He hid her behind the planks of wood and set to making her dress. Now (the distant one!), the ghouleh, her insides burning (her daughter and son were gone!) Came chasing the girl. She ran here and there, and whomever she saw she asked, "O uncle, haven't you seen a bride all decked out and perfumed?"

"No."

"O uncle, haven't you seen a bride all decked out and perfumed?"

"Not at all. We haven't seen anyone like that."

She kept running from one direction to another, always returning to the carpenter and asking him, and he always answered her, "Not at all," until he had finished the dress. The dress finished, the girl put it on and walked away.

"What's your name, niece?" those who saw her on the road asked, and she answered, "My name is Little Woodling." The ghouleh too, running back and forth, asked her, "Little Woodling, have you seen a bride all decked out and bustling?"

"Not at all," she answered. "I can't see, and I don't know. I haven't seen anybody."

Now (the distant one!), the ghouleh kept running and searching until she burst and died. And the girl took off her wooden dress and went home. When her father came back from the hajj and heard the story, he blamed his neighbor for what he had done, marrying the girl off without his permission. After that they lived in bliss and happiness, and may Allah save the mouths of my listeners!

Pomegranate Seeds

There was once a woman who had no children except an only daughter whom she indulged. She had a pair of golden slippers made for her. The mother loved her daughter very much and would send her to the sheikh for lessons. (In the old days there were no schools; the sheikhs were the teachers.) Early one morning the girl went to the house of the sheikh and found him skinning a little boy and devouring him.

She gathered herself and ran away, not returning to her mother. "If I return to my mother," she thought, "she'll want to take me back to him, and he'll devour me. I'd rather not stay in this place at all." She ran away in fear, leaving one of her golden slippers by the doorstep. One slipper fell off, while 'the other remained on her foot as she ran. She came to a shopkeeper.

"O uncle!" she pleaded, "It's now evening, and I'm a stranger in town. Won't you let me sleep here tonight, in your shop?"

"Yes, my daughter," he replied, "why not?"

He left her in his shop and went home. Who came to her? The sheikh. He said to her: "Tell me, Pomegranate Seeds!

What strange sights did you see, When by the doorstep of the master You forgot your golden slipper?"

She answered: "I saw him praying and fasting, The eternal Lord worshipping."

The sheikh tore up all the cloth, turning the big shop upside down, and left. When the owner came to open his shop and check on the girl, he found it all torn up. "Oh! My son!" he cried out. "Help, people, help!" The townspeople felt sorry for him. They brought a tray and collected money for the goods he had lost. He beat the gift until he nearly killed her. "Have pity? they reproached him. "Why are you beating her? Could she have torn up your shop?"

Eventually the girl made her escape to another town. She came to a grocer who sold ghee, sesame oil, sugar, and olive oil.

"O uncle!" she begged him, "Won't you let me sleep here tonight?"

"Yes, my daughter," he replied, "why not?"

The sheikh came to her at night, and he said: "Tell me, Pomegranate Seeds!

What strange sights did you see, When by the doorstep of the master You forgot your golden slipper?"

She answered: "I saw him praying and fasting, The eternal Lord worshipping."

The sheikh poured the olive oil into the sesame oil, mixing them together with the ghee, the rice, and the sugar. Then, turning his back, he left.

In the morning the owner opened his shop. "Oh! My son!" he lamented, beating his breast. As they had done for the other one, the people collected money for this one.

The girl meanwhile pulled herself together and left. "Where am I to go?" she wondered. "I've nowhere left except this tall tree here. Live or die, I'm going to climb it. He won't see me up there." She climbed and sat up in the tree, looking like the full moon, like a doll.

In a while the king came to water his horse by the pool under the tree, but the animal shied. The king looked up and saw a maiden like the full moon sitting in the tree.

"Young woman!" he called out, "Are you human or jinn?"

"By Allah, I'm human," she answered. "From the choicest of the race."

"Come down and ride behind me!"

She was hungry. She had not eaten in two days (and of course the Son of Adam cannot live if he does not eat). She collected herself, came down, and rode behind him. He took her to his mother and said, "Mother!"

"Yes, son."

"I've captured a treasure. If you like me, you must like her. And if you love me, you must love her."

"Of course, son," she said. "Like my own eyes." The mother brought the girl up until she became a young woman, lovely like the moon.

"Mother!" said the king when the maiden came of age, "I want to marry her."

"Marry her," said the mother.

The king married her, and she became pregnant and gave birth to a boy. When she had given birth to her first son, the sheikh came to her in the night. He said: "Tell me, Pomegranate Seeds!

What strange sights did you see, When by the doorstep of the master You forgot your golden slipper?"

And she answered: "I saw him praying and fasting, The eternal Lord worshipping."

s.n.a.t.c.hing her son away from her, he smeared her hands and mouth with blood and disappeared.

In the morning the servant went up to the master's quarters: "O Master, she's all b.l.o.o.d.y!"

"Don't worry about it," the king said.

The next time, the sheikh did with the second son as he had done with the first and disappeared. The king questioned his wife, but she would not say a word, neither yes nor no. She was afraid to speak.

The third time, she gave birth to a girl. The sheikh came, seized the baby, and disappeared.

"That's it!" announced the king. "She's hereby deserted! Put her in a separate house!"

"But," protested the servants and his mother, "tomorrow she'll devour us and our children!"

"No!" insisted the king, "I won't get rid of her. I'll leave her in separate quarters." And every day after that he himself came to give her food through the window.

One day the king decided to go on the hajj. He said to himself, "I might as well go see what Pomegranate Seeds wants."

"Pomegranate Seeds!" he said, "What do you want from the Hijaz?"

"I only want the box of myrrh and seven switches of pomegranate wood," she answered. "And if you don't bring them, may your camels start dropping blood and pus, and stop you from coming back!"

He traveled and traveled. He bought the whole world but forgot the box of myrrh. Halfway home, the men were going to leave the camels behind. They had collapsed, and not one of them was able to move.

"Boys!" said the king, "I've forgotten something." He went back and started asking around, "O Uncle, do you happen to have the box of myrrh and seven whips of pomegranate wood?" People laughed at him, snickering, "What's with you, uncle? Are you crazy? Are you in your right mind? By Allah, this thing you mention, we've never heard of it before."

He asked a second person, and a third. Finally, he came upon a clever one, who said, "What are you looking for, O hajj?"

"I want the seven whips of pomegranate wood and the box of myrrh," replied the king. "How much do they cost?"

"Fifty dinars."

"Here! Take a hundred, and let's finish with this business!"

Taking the money, the other went to an orchard and cut seven switches of pomegranate wood. He then went back to the market and bought a small amount of bitter myrrh, put it in a box, and brought it, along with the whips of pomegranate wood, saying, "Please accept these!"

Before the king had even reached them, the camels were running.

"Here you are!" he said to his wife.

A short time after the hajj, the king wanted to marry again. It was the unveiling of the bride (people everywhere!), and the king was about to remarry. Pomegranate Seeds started whipping the box of myrrh with the pomegranate switches, crying out: "O box of myrrh, give me patience!

To his school I went and found him Devouring a boy. I ran away, Dropped my slipper thereto O box of myrrh, give me patience!

Then I climbed the tree, And the king married me.

I gave birth to the first ones - O box of myrrh, give me patience!

Then I gave birth to the girl, And they told him I was a ghouleh - O box of myrrh, give me patience!"

She had not finished, when lo! the wall split open and she saw her children walking out of it. Children of kings, like full moons they were! And what were they like? Well behaved and very, very handsome.

"Children!" she said to them. "Your father's getting married, and tonight's the night of the unveiling. Go there, and walk right in! When people stop you to ask who you are, say to them, 'This is our father's house, and you, the strangers, are going to kick us out?' Don't listen to anyone! The girl will sit in her father's lap, and you boys one on each side of him."

They went and entered the bridal room. When the king beheld them, what a sight they were! He stopped looking at his bride, to see what she was like.

"Get out of here!" the people around shouted at them. "What a disaster you are! d.a.m.n your father and the fathers of those who gave birth to you!"

"This is our father's house," they answered, "and you, the strangers, are going to kick us out?"

"Where's your father from?" the king asked them, taken by surprise. "Who are you? Who's your mother?"

"We're the children of the One who lives in the house of desertion," they answered.

"Speak again," he said, "and tell me the truth!"

"That's the way it is," they answered.

"What's the bride's name?" asked the king, and they told him it was Salha.

"Salha's hereby 'divorced as of last night!" announced the king. "Seven servants are to go escort the queen here!"

They went and accompanied the queen, and the celebration turned out to be for him and his children.

Hail! Hail! Finished is our tale!

The Woodcutter

Once upon a time there was a poor man, a woodcutter. Every day he would bring a bundle of wood, sell it, and eat from his earnings. One day, before setting out to the woods in the morning, he roasted a handful of fava beans to entertain himself along the way. He walked along munching on them, taking the road to Bab il-Wadi. As he approached the well belonging to the house of Yusif is-Sliman, the one in the middle of the road, he tossed a bean up in the air - but it did not land in his mouth, it fell right into the well. Driven by his poverty and his sadness over its loss, he squatted by the mouth of the well and cried out: "Oh! My fava bean, My protection against hunger!

Oh! My fava bean, My protection against hunger!"

And how he cried over the loss of that bean!

Now, the well, in it they say there were (in the name of Allah, the Compa.s.sionate, the Merciful!) dwellers.

"Hey uncle, leave us alone!" they answered him "What's the matter with you? You hurt our ears with all this din?

"I want my lava bean back," he answered, crying again: "Oh! My lava bean, My protection against hunger!"

"Uncle!" they :said, "Is it worth all this din? Here! Take this wooden bowl - whatever you tell it to fill with, it will fill, and you can eat something other than these lava beans."

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