ing. The Grand Vizir seemed much impressed. I saw him tap his forehead inquisitively and feel for his simitar. But the Master of Ceremonies soon reassured him. Then they turned to me.
"See here, Mudjahoy, old man—" began the Vizir, with a refreshing absence of conventionality. Dorema looked horrified. She was about to clap her hands, undoubtedly to order the Vizir's instant execution, but I restrained her.
"Vizir," I said, "I do not care for ceremony, but civility is a sine quâ non" (That staggered him; he was weak on Latin.) "So drop the titles, but proceed carefully. Now go on."
He went on: "Mudjahoy, sire, I have been told of your contemplated reforms, and I am bound to tell you, as an honest adviser, that they will not work. You propose to dismiss the Chief Barber?"
"I do," said I firmly.
"And, I suppose, the Turban-Twister, and so on?"
"Yes."
"And to live in a simple and businesslike way?"
"I do," I replied.
"Well," said he, spinning his turban upon his forefinger and looking at it with one eye closed, "it will never do in the world—never! There was formerly an autocrat who tried to run this government on business principles, and—" he paused and sighed.
"Where is he?" I asked.
"The Garahoogly contains all that is mortal of him,—in a sack!" said the Grand Vizir meaningly.
Dorema clung to me and looked at my face imploringly.
"No matter," I said determinedly; "I shall carry out these reforms."
"You will fail," said the Master of Ceremonies, and the Grand Vizir nodded solemnly.
