Immediately on my return I inquired after my child and his mother. “Your slave is dead,” said she, “and it is now more than two months since I have beheld your son; nor do I know what is become of him.” I was sensibly affected at the death of the slave; but as my son only disappeared, I flattered myself that he would soon be found. Eight months however passed, and he did not return; nor could I learn any tidings of him. In order to celebrate the festival of the great Bairam, which was approaching, I ordered my steward to bring me the fattest cow I had for a sacrifice. He obeyed my commands; and the cow he brought me was my own slave, the unfortunate mother of my son. Having bound her, I was about to make the sacrifice, when at the very instant she lowed most sorrowfully, and the tears even fell from her eyes. This seemed to me so extraordinary, that I could not but feel compassion for her, and was unable to give the fatal blow. I therefore ordered her to be taken away, and another brought. My wife, who was present, seemed angry at my compassion, and opposed an order which defeated her malice. “What are you about, my husband?” said she, “why not sacrifice this cow? Your steward has not a more beautiful one, nor one more proper for the purpose.” Wishing to oblige my wife, I again approached the cow; and struggling with my pity, which suspended the sacrifice, I was again going to give the mortal blow, when the victim a second time disarmed me by her redoubled tears and moanings. I then delivered the instruments into the hands of my steward. “Take them,” I cried, “and make the sacrifice yourself, the lamentations and tears of the animal have overcome me.” The steward was less compassionate, and sacrificed her. On taking off the skin we found hardly any thing but bones, though she appeared very fat. “Take her away,” said I to the steward, truly chagrined, “I give her to you to do as you please with; regale both yourself and whomsoever you wish; and if you have a very fat calf, bring it in her place. I did not inquire what he did with the cow, but he had not been gone long, before I saw a remarkable fine calf brought. Although I was ignorant that this calf was my own son, yet I felt a sensation of pity arise in my breast at first sight. As soon also as he perceived me, he made so great an effort to come to me, that he broke his cord. He lay down at my feet, with his head on the ground, as if he endeavoured to excite my compassion, and not have the cruelty to take away his life: striving, in this manner, to make me comprehend that he was my son. I was still more surprised and affected by this action, than I had been by the tears of the cow. I felt a kind of tender pity, which interested me much for him; or, to speak more correctly, my blood guided me to what was my duty. “Go back.” I cried, “and take all possible care of this calf, and, in its room, bring another directly.”