I entered into conversation with this man Sadik, and was lucky to find in him a very lantern of traditions. The works of Baidáwí, of Abú Sa’íd al-Khadrí, of al-Farrá of Bagh, of Nu’man Ibu Bashír, of Abú Hurairah, of ’Abd Allah Ibu Mas’ud, to say nothing of the Persian and Arabian poets, he seemed to know by heart. When I complimented him on his learning, he replied, saying: “If I am blessed by God with a good memory, it is because I have never eaten a quince, or a sour apple, or fresh coriander, or garlic, or the remainder of a mouse’s meal; nor have I, to the best of my belief, ever read a book written by the blind, nor drawn blood from the nape of my neck. For these things weaken the memory and produce folly. From the unseemly demeanour of your guide”--the rascal had been more exasperating than usual--“I would hazard the conjecture that he has tasted of many a mouse’s meal.” The guide grew exceeding wrath, and would have struck the speaker had I not prevented him; then he cried, “You lie! the humiliation you would thrust on me, see, I cast it back in your face!” The seal-maker smiled good-humouredly. “Friend,” said he, “the humiliation was mine, and not yours, for have I not spoken to a careless listener? Know, however, for your future guidance, that a man, if he meet with humiliation, has sometimes nobody but himself to blame. This will certainly be his sorry case if he sit down uninvited to another’s table, or if he respect not his host, or if he hope for kindness from a foe or for learning from the low-born; so much the more will he suffer the inevitable consequence if he honour not his Prophet, his country, and his King. And”--here he turned to the crowd--“to listen inquisitively to another’s conversation has the same effect as addressing an inattentive audience. I would not have ye be guilty of the former, which is the extreme of discourtesy, any more than I would have the latter, which is the acme of humiliation, thrust on me a second time by the friend to whom I spoke.” I watched the guide, who could not contain his spleen. “Thou sententious ass!” he shrieked, making as if to take off his sandal wherewith to belabour the seal-maker. Once more he was met by a meek and smiling countenance. “Verily,” quoth Sadik, “if one show leniency to the mean, the low, or the servant, one must expect to be imposed on. I do but light a lamp in broad daylight, or sow seed in the desert sand, which is as wasteful as eating when one’s stomach is laden, or as showing consideration to one who is not deserving of it. Three things tend towards madness: the first is to walk with the blind, the second is to talk to the deaf, and the third is to sleep alone.”