Genre - Fantasy. You are on the page - 28
he Chief of Police47. Al-Malik Al-Nasir and the Three Chiefs of Policea. Story of the Chief of Police of Cairob. Story of the Chief of the Bulak Policec. Story of the Chief of the Old Cairo Police48. The Thief and the Shroff49. The Chief of the Kus Police and the Sharper50. Ibrahim Bin Al-Mahdi and the Merchant's Sister51. The Woman Whose Hands were Cut Off For Giving Alms to thePoor52. The Devout Israelite53. Abu Hassan Al-Ziyadi and the Khorasan54. The Poor Man and His Friend in Need55. The
ing packages by the door. Dayne didn't know what the fuss had been about. The man's hair had regrown in a mere matter of months."Just a moment, please." Whoever was calling after midnight could only be bringing trouble with them. For a while, after what was later called: the tribal massacre, the lone hero had darkened his door, convinced Dayne was up to something nefarious and had to be taken down. Or another Cary Town villain decided to rise to infamy and needed Dayne out of the way
indeed to be such a warrior as she neededin her enterprise, and her hopes of success tooka sudden bound when Files told her he knewwhere a gun-tree grew and would go there atonce and pick the ripest and biggest musket thetree bore.Chapter Two Out of Oogaboo Three days later the Grand Army of Oogabooassembled in the square in front of the royalpalace. The sixteen officers were attired ingorgeous uniforms and carried sharp, glitteringswords. The Private had picked his gun and,although it was not
y) allthat discontent and trouble seemed to slip off him.It was a beautiful night of early winter, the air just sharp enoughto be refreshing after the hot room and the stinking railwaycarriage. The wind, which had lately turned a point or two north ofwest, had blown the sky clear of all cloud save a light fleck or twowhich went swiftly down the heavens. There was a young moon halfwayup the sky, and as the home-farer caught sight of it, tangled in thebranches of a tall old elm, he could scarce
>"I b'lieve, Cap'n," remarked Trot, at last, "thatit's time for us to start."The old man cast a shrewd glance at the sky, thesea and the motionless boat. Then he shook his head. "Mebbe it's time, Trot," he answered, "but I don'tjes' like the looks o' things this afternoon." "What's wrong?" she asked wonderingly. "Can't say as to that. Things is too quiet to suitme, that's all. No breeze, not a ripple a-top the water,nary a gull a-flyin'
b. The Breslau Textc. The Macnaghten Text and the Bulak Editiond. The same with Mr. Lane's and my VersionAppendix II--Contributions to the Bibliography of the Thousand andOne Nights and their Imitations, By W. F. KirbyThe Book Of TheTHOUSAND NIGHTS AND A NIGHT MA'ARUF THE COBBLER AND HIS WIFE There dwelt once upon a time in the God-guarded city of Cairo acobbler who lived by patching old shoes.[FN#1] His name wasMa'aruf[FN#2] and he had a wife called Fatimah, whom the folk hadnicknamed