Page:A child of the Orient (IA childoforient00vakarich).pdf/174

 By the time I had finished the story of the philosopher, we were approaching the other side of the Golden Horn.

"You see," I concluded, "you get more than Charon did out of the transaction; and besides, since I am going over there three times a week, you may become my regular boatman, and if you are over here with a fare at sunset you may wait for me, and take me back, too—only then I shall pay you one para less."

It was not because I was of a miserly disposition that I was bargaining so hard; but I had only one medjedié a month, and the elders invariably borrowed a part of it back from me, so that I was always in straitened circumstances.

"Why are you going over there so often?" he asked kindly.

I liked his baggy bloomers, of the colour of the stained glass windows one sees in the old cathedrals; I liked his being faithful to the turban, and I fell in love with his kind, beaming old face. Besides, the way he enjoyed the story of the philosopher and Charon convinced me that he was not like most of the dreadful elders—so I told him the reason.

His oars again became suspended in the air, and he listened with intent interest.

"Is it in the Koran you read all those things?"

"Oh, no," I said, "in a book bigger than the Koran."