HE KISSED HIS MOTHER SO ROUGHLY, THAT SHE NEARLY FELL BACWARDS.
“And was that all you did?” asked the old woman.
“I cut capers in the savannahs; I stroked wild horses, and shook cocoa-nut trees. Oh! I have plenty of tales to tell! Only one must not tell all one knows, as you well know good mammy.” And he kissed his mother so roughly, that she had nearly fallen backwards. He was a shocking wild lad.
Now, in came the South Wind in a turban and Bedouin’s flying mantle.
“It is very cold hereabouts!” said he, throwing wood upon the fire. “It is easy to perceive that the North Wind has preceded me.”
“It is hot enough here to roast a northern bear!” said the North Wind.
“You are a bear yourself!” answered the South Wind.
“Have you a mind to be both put into the bag?” asked the old woman. “There! sit down on that stone, and tell us where you have been.”
“AN OSTRICH RAN A RACE WITH ME.”
“In Africa, mother,” returned he. “I was amongst the Hottentots, who were lion-hunting in Caffraria. The grass in their plains looks as green as an olive. An ostrich ran a race with me, but I beat him hollow. I reached the yellow sands of the desert, which look like the bottom of the sea. I met a caravan. ⟨They killed their last camel to obtain some water; but they only got a very little. The sun was scorching above, and the sand equally scorching beneath one’s feet. The desert stretched out into boundless expanse.⟩ I then rolled in the fine, loose sand, and made it whirl about in large columns. A fine dance I led it! You should have seen how dejected the dromedaries looked as they stood stock still, and how the merchants pulled their caftans over their heads. They threw themselves on the ground before me as they would before Allah, their God. They are now all buried
