a little better and as well as the two strings permitted, he suddenly gave vent to great emotion, pressed my hands and begged me to give him some instruction, which I gladly promised to do.
"Then they would not let us leave the harem, and I had to play without end. One of the girls fell to dancing and exhibited a very strong feeling for rhythm and real poetry in her movements, especially those of the hands and the shoulders. All of the ladies then gathered close around us, stroking our hair and our faces, which appealed to us as far from agreeable, though we could not but feel that it was the evidence of great sympathy. Slaves brought in tea with mint and quantities of sweets. Once I had emptied my cup, I had to play and play. When I stopped for a moment, there was a violent clapping of hands and such noisy protests that I recalled, in those very different surroundings, the story of a musician who fell into a wolf's den, as he was returning through a forest from a wedding. Beside himself with fright and awaiting certain death, he bethought him of his violin and played with such enchantment that the wolves sat listening around him and forgot to eat him.
"Though my harem ladies were in a way as voracious as the wolves, I was not afraid, for I had already sufficient evidence that they felt kindly toward me. A little later a slave came in to tell us that the gentlemen were waiting for us, so that we had at last to take our leave. The Arab women said good-bye to us with very evident regret and sadness, pressing our hands to their hearts and speaking with sincere feeling. I pitied them, I pity the
