The Junior Classics, Volume 5: Stories that never grow old
General
The Junior Classics, Volume 5: Stories that never grow old
Children's literature
On the other hand, as Ali Baba and his wife were often seen to go
between Cassim's and their own house all that day, and to seem
melancholy, nobody was surprised in the evening to hear the
lamentable shrieks and cries of Cassim's wife and Morgiana, who
gave out everywhere that her master was dead. The next morning at
daybreak, Morgiana went to an old cobbler whom she knew to be
always early at his stall, and bidding him good-morrow, put a
piece of gold into his hand, saying, "Baba Mustapha, you must
bring with you your sewing tackle, and come with me; but I must
tell you, I shall blindfold you when you come to such a place."
Baba Mustapha seemed to hesitate a little at these words. "Oh!
oh!" replied he, "you must have me do something against my
conscience, or against my honor?" "God forbid," said Morgiana,
putting another piece of gold into his hand, "that I should ask
anything that is contrary to your honor! only come along with me
and fear nothing."
Baba Mustapha went with Morgiana, who, after she had bound his
eyes with a handkerchief at the place she had mentioned, conveyed
him to her deceased master's house, and never unloosed his eyes
till he had entered the room where she had put the corpse
together.
"Baba Mustapha," said she, "you must make haste and sew the parts
of this body together; and when you have done, I will give you
another piece of gold."
After Baba Mustapha had finished his task, she blindfolded him
again, gave him the third piece of gold as she had promised, and
recommending secrecy to him, carried him back to the place where
she first bound his eyes, pulled off the bandage, and let him go
home, but watched him that he returned toward his stall, till he
was quite out of sight, for fear he should have the curiosity to
return and dodge her; she then went home. Morgiana, on her return,
warmed some water to wash the body, and at the same time Ali Baba
perfumed it with incense, and wrapped it in the burying clothes
with the accustomed ceremonies. Not long after, the proper officer
brought the bier, and when the attendants of the mosque, whose
business it was to wash the dead, offered to perform their duty,
she told them that it was done already. Shortly after this the
imaun and the other ministers of the mosque arrived. Four
neighbors carried the corpse to the burying ground, following the
imaun, who recited some prayers. Ali Baba came after with some
neighbors, who often relieved the others in carrying the bier to
the burying ground. Morgiana, a slave to the deceased, followed in
the procession, weeping, beating her breast, and tearing her hair.
Cassim's wife stayed at home mourning, uttering lamentable cries
with the women of the neighborhood, who came, according to custom,
during the funeral, and, joining their lamentations with hers,
filled the quarter far and near with sounds of sorrow.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account