he amused himself with throwing about the stones of the fruit with considerable force. Finally he washed his hands, his face, and his feet, and repeated a prayer, like a good Mussulman.
He was still on his knees, when he saw a genie, white with age, and of enormous stature, advancing toward him with a scimitar in his hand. As soon as he was close he cried in a terrible tone: “Get up, that I may kill thee with this scimitar, as thou hast caused the death of my son.” He accompanied these words with a dreadful yell. The merchant, alarmed by the horrible figure of this genie, as well as the words he heard, replied in trembling accents: “How can I have slain him? I do not know him, nor have I ever seen him.” “Didst thou not,” replied the genie, “on thine arrival here, sit down, and take some dates from thy wallet; and after eating them, didst thou not throw the stones about on all sides?” “This is all true,” replied the merchant; “I do not deny it.” “Well, then,” said the other, “I tell thee thou hast killed my son; for while thou wast throwing about the stones, my son passed by invisible; one of them struck him in the eye, causing his death and thus hast thou slain my son.” “Ah, sire, forgive me,” cried the merchant. “I have neither forgiveness nor mercy,” added the genie; “and is it not just that he who has inflicted death should suffer it?” “I grant that; but I have done so innocently, and therefore I entreat you to pardon me, and suffer me to live.” “No, no,” cried the genie, “I must de-
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