perhapsofthebeautifulchrist-child,dressedingoldandsilver,whichwasdownbelowinthechapel,wherethesilvercandlesticksgleamedsobright,andwhereherlittlefriendssungthehymnsinwhichshealsocouldjoin?iknownot.presentlyshemovedagain-shestumbled:theearthenvesselfellfromherhead,andbrokeonthemarblesteps.sheburstintotears.thebeautifuldaughteroftheimperialpalaceweptovertheworthlessbrokenpitcher;withherbarefeetshestoodthereweeping;anddarednotpullthestring,thebell-ropeoftheimperialpalace!"

twentiethevening

itwasmorethanafortnightsincethemoonhadshone.nowhestoodoncemore,roundandbright,abovetheclouds,movingslowlyonward.hearwhatthemoontoldme.

"fromatowninfezzanifollowedacaravan.onthemarginofthesandydesert,inasaltplain,thatshonelikeafrozenlake,andwasonlycoveredinspotswithlightdriftingsand,ahaltwasmade.theeldestofthecompany-thewatergourdhungathisgirdle,andonhisheadwasalittlebagofunleavenedbread-drewasquareinthesandwithhisstaff,andwroteinitafewwordsoutofthekoran,andthenthewholecaravanpassedovertheconsecratedspot.ayoungmerchant,achildoftheeast,asicouldtellbyhiseyeandhisfigure,rodepensivelyforwardonhiswhitesnortingsteed.washethinking,perchance,ofhisfairyoungwife?itwasonlytwodaysagothatthecamel,adornedwithfursandwithcostlyshawls,hadcarriedher,thebeauteousbride,roundthewallsofthecity,whiledrumsandcymbalshadsounded,thewomensang,andfestiveshots,ofwhichthebridegroomfiredthegreatestnumber,resoundedroundthecamel;andnowhewasjourneyingwiththecaravanacrossthedesert.

"formanynightsifollowedthetrain.isawthemrestbythewellsideamongthestuntedpalms;theythrusttheknifeintothebreastofthecamelthathadfallen,androasteditsfleshbythefire.mybeamscooledtheglowingsands,andshowedthemtheblackrocks,deadislandsintheimmenseoceanofsand.nohostiletribesmetthemintheirpathlessroute,nostormsarose,nocolumnsofsandwhirleddestructionoverthejourneyingcaravan.athomethebeautifulwifeprayedforherhusbandandherfather.'aretheydead?'sheaskedofmygoldencrescent;'aretheydead?'shecriedtomyfulldisc.nowthedesertliesbehindthem.thiseveningtheysitbeneaththeloftypalmtrees,wherethecranefluttersroundthemwithitslongwings,andthepelicanwatchesthemfromthebranchesofthemimosa.theluxuriantherbageistrampleddown,crushedbythefeetofelephants.atroopofnegroesarereturningfromamarketintheinterioroftheland:thewomen,withcopperbuttonsintheirblackhair,anddeckedoutinclothesdyedwithindigo,drivetheheavily-ladenoxen,onwhosebacksslumberthenakedblackchildren.anegroleadsayounglionwhichhehasbrought,byastring.theyapproachthecaravan;theyoungmerchantsitspensiveandmotionless,thinkingofhisbeautifulwife,dreaming,inthelandoftheblacks,ofhiswhitelilybeyondthedesert.heraiseshishead,and-"butatthismomentacloudpassedbeforethemoon,andthenanother.iheardnothingmorefromhimthisevening.

twenty-firstevening

"isawalittlegirlweeping,"saidthemoon;"shewasweepingoverthedepravityoftheworld.shehadreceivedamostbeautifuldollasapresent.oh,thatwasagloriousdoll,sofairanddelicate!shedidnotseemcreatedforthesorrowsofthisworld.butthebrothersofthelittlegirl,thosegreatnaughtyboys,hadsetthedollhighupinthebranchesofatreeandhadrunaway.

"thelittlegirlcouldnotreachuptothedoll,andcouldnothelpherdown,andthatiswhyshewascrying.thedollmustcertainlyhavebeencryingtoo,forshestretchedoutherarmsamongthegreenbranches,andlookedquitemournful.yes,thesearethetroublesoflifeofwhichthelittlegirlhadoftenheardtell.alas,poordoll!