“Now, you may think that golden sunshine and blue skies are very lovely things to possess, but the people tired of having them all the time. They felt that a nice shower of rain occasionally, even if it came out of an ugly black cloud, would be better than all the pink and violet and green shades of their clear heavens. The only thing that saved their trees and their gardens from burning up as in the dry heat of the desert, and that gave them water, was the glorious big river flowing by. No wonder, then, they loved and prized its drops. Broad and long, it ran through the country, and curled in silver splashes about the banks. Twice every year it overflowed, and then, with feasting and joy, they caught it in pools and canals dug to hold and preserve the precious liquid. In this way they kept the gardens green and lovely, but oh, the work was so hard! Thousand of poor slaves labored day and night to accomplish it. The kind-hearted king offered a big reward to any one who would devise some way to make rain fall in his country, and many wise men spent days and nights studying over the great question. Big trees were planted to catch and draw the moisture, and many other means were tried, but in spite of all these doings the clouds sailed by, as fleecy and white as snow. “So things went on for many years, and still no rain ever came. Now, the king had an only son, to whom he was perfectly devoted. The child was very beautiful, and was also wise, as a prince should be. It was a common thing to see the handsome little fellow standing in the midst of a grave council of men, listening to their words of wisdom. He never seemed to tire of their long discussions, and would remain, solemn and silent, among them, instead of playing with the children about him. Thus he grew in wisdom and strength to manhood, but he was seldom seen at the court balls and festivals, preferring to wander about among the beautiful mosques of his father’s city, or to stand on one of their daintily carved minarets and gaze across the yellow sands of the desert. Often he would remain thus for hours, and though his eyes were looking far out over the appalling yet wonderful beauty of the desert, his thoughts were always only of how he might solve the riddle of his country, and bring it the cool drops of rain it so earnestly wanted. This one idea absorbed him utterly, he could think literally of nothing else, for he noticed with sorrow how terribly hard his father’s slaves toiled to carry the precious water from the river when they tilled the ground.