"You must come to school before breakfast," said the mullah. "If any one eats any food before coming to his lessons I shall pull out his ears." If a boy was at all tardy he exclaimed, "You silly animal, hah! Have you been eating, and so are late?" "Oh no, indeed I did not eat anything!" "Put out your tongue!" Once Karim's breath smelled of onions, and the mullah gave him so sharp a tap that he felt it for an hour. They studied a little arithmetic, but spent most of the time learning to write the Persian language, and to read from the Koran. As the Koran was printed in the Arabic language, which none of the boys knew, at first they did not understand what it meant, although the mullah explained a great many things to them. It was very important to learn to recite a good many chapters from this holy book, even if one could not understand what he recited. No one could pray to God in a way that was pleasing, the mullah said, unless he repeated in his prayer parts of these chapters, which the holy prophet Muhammad long ago had brought down from heaven. Studying the Persian language was more interesting work. In a short time Karim was given stories to read which told of the wonderful deeds of King Solomon, who talked with the birds and made the spirits of the air obey him. He also read other interesting stories, very much like those to be found in the "Arabian Nights' Tales." While they were studying the boys all swayed their bodies forwards and back and read from their books in a loud sing-song tone. If a boy became tired he did not dare to stop. Karim did so once, but a stroke from the mullah's stick and his question, "Son of a dog, why are you not studying?" made him yell out with the loudest. He soon learned not to ask questions. Once when there had been a slight earthquake shock he asked what it was that had made the earth shake. "The ox," said the mullah, "which holds up the earth upon his twenty-one horns has become angry, and is shaking his horns." "What is he angry at?" asked Karim. "God knows, and He has not told us," said the mullah. "I wonder what the ox stands upon," added Karim, after a minute. "If it were right for us to know God would have told us," was the answer. "Such questions are irreverent, and fools ask them. Pray to God to forgive you, and then begin your study again." When Karim was eleven years old Almas was married. The friends of the bridegroom came to the house, and were given a good dinner. Almas was so bundled up that no one could recognize her. Then they put her on a horse, and in a noisy procession led her off to her new home. She now lived in a village ten miles away, and Karim saw her only two or three times a year. He missed his sister for a long time, because she had always waited upon him so carefully.