Baba Mustapha was seated with an awl in his hand, just beginning work. The robber saluted him, bidding him good-morrow; and perceiving that he was old, said, “Honest man, you begin to work very early: is it possible that one of your age can see so well? I question, even if it were somewhat lighter, whether you could see to stitch.”
“You do not know me,” replied Baba Mustapha; “for old as I am, I have extraordinary eyes; and you will not doubt it when I tell you that I sewed the body of a dead man together in a place where I had not so much light as I have now.”
“A dead body!” exclaimed the robber, with affected amazement. “Yes, yes,” answered Baba Mustapha, “I see you want to have me speak out, but you shall know no more.”
The robber felt sure that he had discovered what he sought. He pulled out a piece of gold, and putting it into Baba Mustapha’s hand, said to him, “I do not want to learn your secret, though I can assure you you might safely trust me with it. The only thing I desire of you is to show me the house where you stitched up the dead body.”
“I cannot do you that favor,” replied Baba Mustapha, “I was taken to a certain place, whence I was led blindfolded to the house, and afterward brought back again in the same
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