seeing the Stoker washing and rubbing him, said, "This is doing injury to the keeper's rights." Replied the Fireman, "The master overwhelmeth us with his favours!" Then the bathman proceeded to shave Zau al-Makan's head, after which he and the Stoker washed themselves and returned to the house, where he clad Zau al-Makan in a shirt of fine stuff and a robe of his own; and gave him a handsome turband and girdle and a light kerchief which he wound about his neck. Meanwhile the Fireman's wife had killed and cooked two chickens; so, as soon as Zau al-Makan entered and seated himself on the carpet, the husband arose and, dissolving sugar in willow-flower water, made him drink of it. Then he brought the food-tray and, cutting up the chickens, fed him with the flesh and gave him the broth to drink till he was satisfied; when he washed his hands and praised Allah for recovery, and said to the Fireman, "Thou art he whom the Almighty vouchsafed to me and made the cause of my cure!" "Leave this talk," replied the other, "and tell us the cause of thy coming to this city and whence thou art. Thy face showeth signs of gentle breeding." "Tell me first how thou camest to fall in with me," said Zau al-Makan; "and after I will tell thee my story." Rejoined the Fireman, "As for that, I found thee lying on the rubbish-heap by the door of the fire-house, as I went to my work near the morning, and knew not who had thrown thee there. So I carried thee home with me; and this is all my tale." Quoth Zau al-Makan, "Glory to Him who quickeneth the bones, though they be rotten! Indeed, O my brother, thou hast not done good save to one worthy of it, and thou shalt presently gather its fruitage." And he added, "But where am I now?" "Thou art in the city of Jerusalem," replied the Stoker; whereupon Zau al-Makan called to mind his strangerhood and remembered his separation from his sister and wept. Then he discovered his secret to the Fireman and told him his story and began repeating, "In love they bore me further than my force would go, * And for them made me suffer resurrection-throe: Oh, have compassion, cruel! on this soul of mine * Which, since ye fared, is pitied by each envious foe; Nor grudge the tender mercy of one passing glance * My case to lighten, easing this excess of woe: Quoth I 'Heart, bear this loss in patience!' Patience cried * 'Take heed! no patience in such plight I'm wont to show.' "