. . .....,. .. ~k. ~ .; f WILLIAM BREWSTER, EDITORS, SAM. G. WHITTAKER, TERMS: The "HUNTINGDON JOURNAL" ix published at he following:rate.: If paid in advance $1,60 If paid within six months after the time of subscribing 1,75 If paid at the end of the year 9.,00 And two dollars and fifty cents if not paid till after the expiration of the year. No subscription will he takeu for a less period than six months, and no paper will be discontinued, except at the option of the Editor, until all arrearages are paid. Subscribers living in distant counties,or in other Plates, will be required to pay invariably in advance. gir The above terms will be rigidly adhered to in all eases. ADVERTISEMENTS wat ha charged at the following rates. 1 insertion. 2 du. 3 do. Six lines or less, $ 25 $ 37i $ 50 Ono squnre, (16 linen,) 50 75 1 00 Two " (32 ) 100 150 200 Three " (48 ) 150 225 300 Business men advertising by the Quarter, Hall Year or Year, will be charged the following rates: 3 mc;. 6 mo. 12 mo. 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We will thank post masters to !mop us posted up in relation to this matter. *tlcct 'poetry. [Dedicated to Miss of 11titinplon.1 BUT WHERE ART THOU I When pow• in all but youth and low chtspe4 thee to this beating heart, And vowed fur wealth and fame to rove, That we might weep no more to part. Yearn have gone by—long weary years Ur toil, to win my station now— Of ardent hopes and sickening fears. And wealth is mine—but inhere art thou ? Fame's dmrsling wreath for thy dear sake Grew brighter than before to me, clung to all I thought could make This toady heart more worthy thee. Years have gone by—the laurel droops In mocking o'er my withered brow, A nominee,' moral before me stoups, And fame is uthm—but tdarc art flaw ? In lice's first hour, despised and lone I wondered through the busy crowd, And now that life's best joys have flown, They greet with smiles and murmurs loud. Oh tier that voice—thy gentle voice, To breath to me its weleotne new ! Wealth, fame and all that should rejoice, To me are vaitt—fiir where art thou ,eouiville, Pa. II MO Eter. THE STARS, BLEntnn, blessed things I. •Ye are in Heaven and on earth. My soul, Even with the whirlwind's rush can wanderon To your immortal reuhu, hut it must fall Lae your ancient Pleittd from its height, To dint ita now clad glories iu the dust. —.Prentice, SONO. The world go. up, and the world goes down, And the sunshine follows the rain ; And yesterday's sneer, and yesterday's frown, Can never emu over again, Sweet wife, No, never come over again. for woman is warm, though man he cold, And the night will hallow the day ; Till the heart which at even was weary and old, Can rise in the morning gay, Sweet wire, To its work in the morning gay. Tonohing Rhymes, for the Times. [We found the following lines writton upon the back of a one dollar bill: 'Tome rest iu my pocket, my last dollar bill ! Tho' the rest are gone from me, I'll cling to thee still Thro' temptations boar thee, unchang'd and alone, Till the Sheriff, light tapping my shoulder, cries "Comer Yet what wart thou made for, if not to be spent? Thou must e'en go the way that my other bills went ; Lifo's pleasures are fleeting, they lire but a day And liko them, my lasl wonpase away." "A Mile word in kindness spoken 'Ms; boat a heart that's e'ennie,t broken, • • • I SEE NO STAR ',now; THE HORIZON, PROMISING LIGHT TO OI7IDE US, BUT THE INTELLIGENT, PATRIOTIC, UNITED WHIG PARTY OF THE UNITED STATES.". *tied Cale. THE MERRY WIVES OF CONSTANTINOPLE, A TURKISH TALC, Abdool was a young Turkish greenhorn, who was dispatched by his father, with a handsome assortment of silks and stuffs, to seek his fortune in Constantinople. A pleasant voyage accomplished, Abdool found himself in the gorgeous Stamboul, where happiness and splendor are reflec ted in a million different forms. Trans ported at finding himself his own master, and not slightly vain of a well filled purse, and a very handsome, though somewhat simple visage, the young merchant hired a splendid stall in the bezestein, furnished it very handsomely, and displayed his stuffs for sale. Nor had ho long to wait for customers. The public charmed with the acquisition of so easy a dupe, throng ed his shoji morning, noon and night, un til finally his very despoilers gave hits the surname of the Simple, and his fame spreading over the whole city, invited the sharks and the crocodiles in still greater numbers. $1 25 1 50 One morning, Abdool the Simple open ed his last bale of merchandise. Scarce ly had ho completed his arrangements, when a cry of "make room, make room, true believers !" rung through the bezes• Lein, and a lady, riding on a mule, and sur rounded by about forty blacks with naked sabres, entered the market. She was richly habited, closely veiled, and by her numerous train, evidently of rank ; which being observed by the young merchant, he was surprised to see her stop and dismount at his threshold, and holding her veil firm ly to her waist, request the merchant, in a voice sweet as the bulbul's (nightingale's) complaining of the rose's inconstancy, to show her some of his finest stuffs. Abdool flew to obey the order of that honied voice; his richest wares—those most remarkable for the beauty of work. mans . hip or dye, and exquißi , ely scent .d —were displayed in great profusion ; and at length the lady selected as many as she thought proper, and inquired the price.— Abdool the Simple, enchanted with the sweetness of her voice, replied, in some flowery lines from the Turkish, poet [Wiz, that the sight of her lovely face would be a sufficient recompense for the loss of a throne. 'lt is certainly, then, ample payment for these stuffs said the lady, with a slight laugh, 'and I take you at your word. But there are too many persons about us at present—look to hear farther from me, and that ere long.' She then beckoned to a slave, bade him take the stuffs on his head, turned to the merchant, nodded gravely, and set off, fol lowed by her attendants. Abdool was so intoxicated with the sweetness of her voice that for some min utes he remained immovable, bending for ward in an attitude of profound acknowl edgetnent. Abdoul the Simple, indeed, looked pre eminently so; and, as•he recov ered from his fit of enthusiasm, began to consider that a glance even in a howl's face was a very inadequate barter for six fine stuff's. In the course of the day Abdool the Simple find nearly forgotten the lady as she seemed to have forgotten him. One evening, however, he beheld two figures approaching townrds him. One was a powerful Nubian, not quite black, but of a dusky leaden complexion, habited richly in scarlet and blue stuffy, with a yellow shawl on his turban, and with him came a young female slave, in the Persian garb, and closely 'veiled. This pair approached to Abdool, and the black, haltir,g opposite his stall, wills. pered in his ear, that having heard the re nown of his exceeding wealth and gener osity, and having a most beautiful Persian slave to sell he bad taken the liberty to bring her for purchase to his tnagnifieence. Confounded by the splendid eulogiums passed upon his riches and liberality, Ab dool the Simple invited them ter enter, and escorted them into a saloon, spread with a very rich carpet, rnd cushions of purple silk. There the female slave threw aside her thick muffles, and, with downcast eyes, stood before the amazed Abdool—a mira cle of beauty ! 'Site is not dear at three tho'usand gold pieces, and as many bales of silk said the Nubian, rubbing his hands. The words soddenly restored Abdool to his SODSC: I j he arose with an obvious change of complexion. 'Let us see her walk,' he said, in a hes itating manner, hate women that walk like camels.' •Walk, Zuliuia I' said the Nubian, whose name was M tvtapha HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, JUNE 20, 1855. -Alas ! she moves like the breath of mu sic on the flowers !' said poor Abdool, much perplexed, and still more enamoured. The charming slave observed his unea siness, and roguishly increased it by every means in her power for she seemed resolv ed it possible to be bought by Abdool.— She complimented him on his personal charms, the vivacity of his wit, the gaiety and grace of his manner, though with lit tle reason, for Abdool was lost in thought and perplexity. Meanwhile the merchant assiduously pointed out the beauties of his slave to eyes that needed but little direct ing to find them out. 'But—if I am not mistaken,' said Ab dool, tremulously, 'she drinks wine. Ho ly prophet ! what is that she is taking to her lips, and of which she has poured us each a cup 1' 'lt is no more wine than the Mufti's beard said the Nubian, passionately.— , Tasto it yourself ; it is only rose water, or, if it be, the sin is mine.' Abdool tasted—and be tasted again— and he thought it tasted very like wine, and of the richest sort; but wasn't for him to dispute the assurances of a man so much older and more experienced than himself ; and the laughing pledge of the bright eyes of Zulima, as she drained her cup, and chucked the drops into her mouth, as if unwilling to lose the least portion. The melancholy position in which lie found himself, prevented Abdool from en joying the pleasure which such charming society was likely to produce ; if he avow ed his delight, what excuse could he make to the merchant for not concluding the purchase ? Meanwhile time wore on, and Abdool felt the expediency of coming to some de cision, to save his credit. In fact Abdool began to feel fuddled. After musing on a variety of faults appropriate to women, none of which could by any possibility find in Zulima, 'Excellent Mustapha!' he said at length, cannot but agree with you that the slave is well worth the trifle you ask for her. But it is not beauty I require at present; my harem is a dower garden, comparable to those of Giamschidr 'No more of this. Wilt you buy her or not ?' said the merchant, advancing with his hand on his sabre. 'Take all I have ! I hare half a bale of the richest silks and cashmere shawls; and when the lady pays me who bought the other half yesterday, you shall have—" 'What is she to give you for them ?" said the Nubian, attentively, 'Alas I' said Abdool, coloring at the re. collection of his folly, 'only a look at her face I' 'The prophet has given this man's brains to a butterfly,' said the merchant, in a tone of mingled rage and contempt. The fair slave, meanwhile, tremblingly followed him to the door. Convinced then that he was about to lose sight of that divine beau. ty forever, and completely vanquished by love and grief, Abdool threw himself at the slave merchant's feet, and exclaimed— Since I cannot purchase her, let me sell myself, and become your slave, mere ly for the happiness of serving the same master.' 'lf I buy such a simpleton, I must have something in with you,' said the merchant, disdainfully. 'When the lady pays you for her stuffs, bring the money into the bargain, and I May perhaps accept you as a slave.' And, laughing hoarsely; he stepped forth, dragging the fair slave with him, who seemed touched with his last strong• mark of affection for she looked back re peatedly as she crossed the bazaar with her master. The despairing Abdool gaz ed after them until they were fairly out of sight ; and then with a profound sigh re entered his dwelling. Time passed on, and Abdool had nearly forgotten all about the lady who had appa rently cheated him out of his stuff's, when one noon-day a porter, carrying a heavy casket, made his appearance. "Be pleas ed to count the contents," he said, ' , and give me a receipt. It is from the lady who bought your stuffs ; and she is so de lighted with your civility in trusting her, that she has doubled the sum for which she purchased them t Abdool was so stupid with grief that he contented himself with merely emptying the casket into his lap, and giving the por ter a handful of pieces, he was left once more to his meditations. In the midst of his reverie a shadow soddenly darkened his downcast eye-lids, and the loud, lusty voice of the Nubian saluted him. 'Wealth makes wants, but hat Mos none. Has the richest of men repented that he did not rather gather the real fruits of beauty,, than the painted glass of the geni- us of gold r Abdool started up in a flutter of delight. have repented of nothing,' In said.— , The lady has paid me for the stuffs, and I am now in a condition, as I imagine, to buy the houri, your slave.' 'Let us see,' replied the merchant, de liberately ; and with a calm and calcula ting look, began counting the pieces. 'Here are seven hundred pieces of geld, and belles many of silver,' said the Nubi an. "Do you dream to purchase that priceless slave with this beggerly sum, which is scarcely sufficient for an oily ne gress of Ethiopia ?' 'Let me purchase, then, at least, the right to be your slave, along with the ador ed Zulima I' returned Abdool keep my slaves in good order ; they seldom see me without the chiboulc, said the Nubian ; "and I have sold the slave Zulima to a rich emir.' Abdool immedi ately threw himself upon his face, and .wept with such vigor that the Merchant seemed somewhat moved. 'lf it will be any consolation for you to see her again, and you will give me this trifle you have received for my pains, I think I can con trive it,' he said at last. Abdool looked up sorrowfully, but at tentively, and instantly threw the money over to him in a turban. 'Can you play on any instrument ?' ask. ed the merchant, thoughtfully. 'On the theorbo,' replied Abdool. 'Very well. lam a dealer also tire musical cattle supplied for the entefin meat of seraglios; you shall accomtfany me to that of the noblemua of whom I speak ; and if you play your part well, your head will be in very little danger, and I will find some excuse not to sell you, whether they approve your performance or not' Ab 100 l procured a suitable drrsq. The Nubian then commanded his new slave to follow, and led the way to the En show, where he embarked in a little boat, rowed by two !flutes, which he himsel: steered. Atter a time, Abdool observed at t: distance a palace or vast extent, ornamented with imiume.able to t.!,t, .To whom belongs this magnificent structure—to some genie said Abdool, in great admiration, gTo a vizier, and favorite of the sultan-; a man so exceedingly jealous and feroci ous, that notwithstanding the character in which you go, where ho not absent, I should not dare to introduce you in his ha rem,' replied the Nubian. Abdool was but little alarmed at this statement, for his thoughts were absorbed in the prospect of seeing Znlima again They landed at ono of the stairs, and as cending it together, the Nubian halted in the midst of a large open dome, of white marble, supported on pillars of the same material, richly carved and silvered in the ornaments. Abdool had scarcely satiated his gaze with the sight of all this splendor, when his ears were saluted with a soft flourish of dulcimers ; and a great number of ladies app.ared in various directions, ascending the steps towards the saloon. They were all veiled; but as they came on laughing and chatting together, Abdool, alarmed at the eight of so many ladies, and so richly clad, would have retreated. !Fool !' whis• pored the black, !stand firm, or you tell cause both our ruins ! And tell me which is Zulima.' Looking up at the beloved name, Ab• dool, after an instant's scrutiny, perceived a figure which he did net for an instant doubt was that of the fair slave; and pros trating himself at her feet, as she advan ced with a number of her companions, the Nubian introduced him as as Egyptian eunuch perfectly skilled in the theorbo, for whom ho entreated their favor. The ladies laughed pleasantly. and Zulima ex claiming, •Let us unveil then, and take the air,' threw off her veil, and the rest imita ting her example disclosed such a diversi ty of beauty, that Abdool believed he was transported among the houries of paradise; but the loveliest were undoubtedly the Persian Zulima, the lonian Aphrodite, and the Indian girl, Nourmahal, so famous for her brilliant eyes. 'lt is the same, Nourmahal, that was t)o poor to purchase me I' said Zulima, laughing satirically; but at the same mo ment she turned and whispered to A bdoel, perceive your artifice, and applaud it, most faithful of lovers I' Enraptured beyond measure at his re ception, Abdool prostrated himself repeat edly ; and the ladies, seated themselves on their solos, when a slave suddenly appear ed rushing up the steps, and calling ns loudly as he could, for speed and exhaus tion—'The vizier!—the vizier !' At this cry, all stood aghast. and Abdool almost telt the stroke of a sabre on his neck. 'Cover him in the carpet !' exclaimed. Zulima ; and at a signal from her white hand, four blacks rushed forward, seized Abdool, who made no resistance in the be wilderment, and among them they rolled him up in a mummy shape, and marched off with their burden at the moment when the clash of cymbals announced the arri val of the vizier. Abdool was congratulating himself as he was carried away, though nearly smother ed, when suddenly a dreadful voice called to the slaves to stop. But here we must observe that this pan ' ic was only part of a preconcerted plan.— Although Abdool the Simple was very far from imagining himself guilty of so un speakable a sacrilege, he was now in the seraglio of the magnificent Sultan Soly man, who was absent from his capital en gaged in the extirpation of the misbeliev ing Gebers of Persia, with his famous vi zia r, Ibrahim. Zulinta was one of the Sultan's favorites, and the Nubian was no less a person titan the chief of the eunuchs, Mustaphn, so renowned for his facetious sayings. It was one of Mustapha's theo ries, that the only way to keep women out of mischief was to amuse them ; and, struck with Zulima's extraordinary account of the stuff.merchant—for it was elm who had purchased the bale of him—and being a personage exceedingly fond of practical jokes, lie had, with rare imprudence, fal len into her plans of diverting herself, and the other ladies of the harem, at the ex pense of the simple Abdool. 'What ! nre you hurrying from my sight ?' again demanded the voice, which was, Iti truth, that of Mustapha Aga coun terfeiting another. .Let my lord forgive his slave !' return ed Zurima, sinking on the ground at the vizier's feet. Since I must needs tell the truth, I will. I have broken my theorbu in a hi of passion, because, being hung in a damp place, it was out of tune; and ashamed of my unreasonable violence, desired Mustapha to send it to some musi• clan of his acquaintance, who might put order. 'Take it then, Alustapha, and let your friend repair the damage without loss of time, tor t..1c0 much pleasure in hearing Zulima play ; two of my gardeners shall help you.' Abdool, who had listened to this dialogue in speechless terror, found himself lifted in the arms of two stout slaves, and carried along as a theorbo.— But having no doubt that Mustapha would provide for his liberation, he stiffened him self as much as possible to represent the instrument. It seemed the unlucky theorbo was sent to a certain musician of the city to be re paired ; an old, shriveled man, like most of his tribe, very peevish, and absorbed in his pursuits. He was in his shop, busily en gaged in tuning the strings of a cittern, bent nearly double over it, with his ear to the opening, and tinkling the wires with his long yellow nails. The slaves, with out the least respect to his anxiety, enter ed with their burden, and flung it care lessly down on the carpet. 'Hark you, mummy !' said the foremost, striking the musician familiarly on the back with his lance, "the vizier's lady hes broken her theorbo, and you are to mend it before sun set, or you will find your neck in a bow- string.' .flay the vizier's lady be saved eternal ly !' said the musician, shaking with in. dignation :—..and the messengers damned for the same period !' he added, as the slaves quitted his door; and then betiding his back again nearly double, he resumed his eternal tink.tink-tink. In the midst of the most melancholy re flections, Abdool expected every moment that Ebn Iladjee, us the musician was cal. led, would seize upon him. But Ebn, ab sorbed in tuning the cittern, scarcely is. collected the vizier's order until he had completed the task to his satisfaction.— But suddenly recollecting the peremptory nature of the command, he cursed his for getfulness aloud, and began searching for some tool which he appeared to have lost. Abdool fervently hoped that the search might lead him into another chamber, and was not disappointed in this one expects. tion ; fur the musician not being able to find his tool, went into a closet to look for another. The theorbo immediately took advantage of this movement, of gliding out of his carpet, and hiding himself among some straw in which the musician usually slept. Ile had scarcely concealed himself era Dm returned with his tools, and thought• fully unrolled the carpet—,a sudden cry •announced his discovery of the 113ss. The cry instantly attracted the notice of some passers-by, who entered the shop, and ea ' gerly inqaired the reason of the disturb. once. Unluckily fur AlRlool, among the °- [WEBSTER. kind persons who run in was a dog, which came with the rest- to ascertain the cause of the uproar, and quickly snuffed him out in his straw. A bdool was dragged head foremost from his concealment, and stood aghast before a crowd, who saluted him as a robber. 'Where is the theorbo, abhorred by all men ?' shouted Ebn, shaking his fist in a palsy of rage ; and Abdool the Simple was hurried off, without being heard a single ward in justification,'almost without attempting one, to the presence of the Ca di, saluted by the crowd with more exe crations than would have been sufficient for them altogether. When questioned by the magistrate, Abdool declared that he himself was the theorbo ! at which an nouncement the audience burst into a peal of laughter, from which the judge himself with difficulty refrained. 'Cut oft his right hand, and throw him into the sea I.' said the Cadt ; and Abdool was immediately hurried out upon a stone balcony adjoining the Cadi's place of judg meat, in the midst of which was a steel block, upon which lay a hatchet, a bow string, and a knife to perform amputations. 'l'he executioner, who was a negro, over come hy•the heat of the day, had fallen fast asleep in the sun ; the guards went to wake the negro to his task, execrating his laziness ; Abdool glanced at the deep wa ters, then at the executioner, who, clad in a buffalo's skin, thickly clotted with blood, awoke grumblingly from his sweet sleep. The sight gave him courage, and while the guards were occupied in explaining their mission to the yawning negro, Ab dool slung himself softly over a balustrade, slid down one of the pillars, and dived deeply and silently as a fish into the was, spicing care net to rise again until he was at too great a distance to be observ ed. 'Phe guards and the executioner sud denly looking round, perceived that the prisoner wan gone, and had no doubt that be had effected his escape; but to conceal their carelessness, they agreed among themselves to declare that the sentence sun executed, sod fortunately there hap ! petted to be two or three dead bodies ly ing about, which the black bad been too lazy to remove, front which they selected n suitable hand. Meanwhile, the ladies in the seraglio were in high good humor, expecting to hear a laughable account of the scene be tween Ebn and his living theorbo, when Mustapha entered the harem with a very angry countenance. The women, cling ing about him, entreated him, for a long time in vain, to tell them what had hap pened. At last he complied, and the grief and compassion of those gentle creatures knew no bounds. Meanwhile, the object of all this kind. ness swain till his strength was nearly ex hausted ; but as he tad now reached a part of the shore principally occupied by the gardens of wealthy citizens, lie landed without much danger, in an olive grove. Flying lie knew not whither, and en tangled in the mazes of those vast gar dens., Abdool at length came to a path which ho hoped would conduct hint to some exit. As lie ran along it, with the rapidity of a heron flying from a hawk, he suddenly came upon two dervises who were driving an ass before them, as if they were going to the palace to beg charity.-- The confusion and agitation with which Abdool inquired if they would direct him how to leave those accursed premises, in stantly attracted their attention. 'We were goinz to beg charity, but we will rather bestow it,' returned one of the dervises, with a scrutinizing look. 'We will guide you out, on condition that you tell us by what means and for what pur pose you are in.' Touched by the kindness of these holy men, and at the same time burning w;th grief and indignation, Abdool solemnly promised that if they would accompany him to his home, he would satisfy their cu riosity, and divide between them the little property lie had remaining. The dervi ses readily consented, and Ahidool had the satisfaction in a few minutes to find him self in the city, whence he easily hound his way to his own honse. lie fulfilled his promised revelations amply, and the dervises listened with ma ny expressions of wonder and incredulity, until the circumstantial narration of Ab dool obliged them to believe hint. The countenance of ono of the dervises grew of red hot bronze; and yet at times he could not refrain from laughing at the sin gularity of the adventures which Abdool the .‘,:itnple had undergone. At last, hav ing satisfied himself by the numerous questions of the truth of what Ito had heard, and moreover that the young man was Ignorant into whose seraglio he liad intruded ; the chief dervisc 1... , due. very VOL. 20. NO. 25. grave. Both gave Abdool much good ad. vice, and after a time, alleging the neces sity of attending prayers in the mosque, they went their ways. Almost an hour .had elapsed after their departure, and Abdool was about to com pose his wearied limbs to rest, when he was alarmed by hearing a loud knock at the door. Opening it, he perceived with unqealtable consternation a great number of the bostangis, or armed police, comman ded by one on horseback, in an extremely rich garb. Without uttering a word in explanation, the bostangis .seized, bound him hand and foot, bandaged his eyes, and carried him among them to a considerable distance, when they suddenly released him. Abdool found himself alone in a splen did apartment, but he had scarcely stood for a moment, wondering where he was when a door opened, and Mustapha Aga appeared, tremulously following the officer who had arrested Abdool. 'This is the wretch, excellent Musta pha, faithful guardian of the most slippery of things—women,' said the officer : the wretch whose boastings have reached the sublime ear, who gives out that he has been an honored guest in the seraglio du- ring our lord's absence.' , The monster !' groaned Mustapha. .The sultan may be every instant expec ted. and lie will do justice,' returned the officer. , Meanwhile he has commanded me that I accompany you and this traitor throughout the harem, and see if he really has the knowledge which he pretends in it: 'Mirror of thy master, sublime Ibrahim! let us see whether the villain has the im pudence ; but I imagine he is out of his mind !' said Mustapha Abdool stared is' dumb amazement on this revelation, and now more than suspec ting that he had been made the victim of a perfidious jest, still lie regectod with hor ror on the dreadful punishment to which, in all likelihood, Zulima would be exposed. Mustapha was so agitated that he scarcely knew whether he ,went on his head or on his feet ; but he purposely led the way in tilt, first place, to the women's apartment. Ibrahim, (for it was the great vizier him self,) he knew, dared not enter the sacred precincts; and under pretence of ascertain ing whether the wretch pretended to have been within the oda, he led him is. 'rite women all threw thems,lves at Ahdool's feet, and with sobs and tears implored him to have mercy on them. Alustapha join ed, in the most deplorable manner ; but Abdool's heart remained steeled, while Zulima, Ndirmahal, and Aphrodite knelt and embra-ing his knees with streaming eyes, and with their fair cheeks crimson with anxiety—large eyes glittering, and bosoms wildly palpitating; but when Zu lima threw herself on his neck and exclai med, 'Drop a tear, at least, in the sea which shall soon swallow me memory of one who loved you,' he we cvercome. I know not who can have infused sus picion into the sultan, unless it was oue of the treacherous dorvises ho said. 'Be not afraid, I will deny all.' • At this moment the clash of drums and cymbals was heard, and a slave rushed in to announce that the sultan had arrived, and was coming immediately to visit his ladies, to receive their compliments on his return. ,- .:omforted by Abdool'a promise, the odaliskas had scarcely time to smoothen their tigitaied features ere the great Solyman, in all his glory and majes ty, attended by all the mutes of the serag- Ito, with their b,ewstrings ready set, and the grand vizier, Ibrahim, carrying three sacks, entered. 'Let the slave who related that he had been made the-guest of a certain vizier's seraglio, inform me if he recognizes this place and these persons !' said the sultan, in a tremendous tone, and all present fell prostrate, wishing it might be into some bottomless gulf. Abdool raised himself, at length, shod tiering, ovithout darieg to iift his eye, de clared that he had never made any such statement to any dervise. Look at tile, fool, but good-natured! and deny it again ! returned the sultan; and glancing fearfully up, with a start of hor ror, A bdool recognized the dervise in the ighty sovereign himself ! He ceald not, of course, utter another word; and the sul tan commanded the mutes instantly to . put Zulima, Nourmabal, and Aphrodite into the sacks, and throw them into the sea, while the bow was fitted round the neck or Muatapha. The sultan himself opened a window up to which the green waves of the sea flowed; and with shrieks of despair the unhappy ladies were stripped of their ornaments, and thrust into the sacks, while the rest of the harem looked on with tears and sobs. '!'he dismal sight quite overcame all fee ling of revenge in Abdool's heart. He prostrated himself at the sultan's feet, and In mpiteous voice implored mercy. The sultan inquired if he were willing to perish in the place of the three ladies rThis was a dreadful moment ; hut Abdool the Sim ple very frankly consented. 'You shall do worse than die for them ! said the sultan, after a pause of the most intense excitement— , you shall live with thorn ! I give them to you all three for 1 your wives and appoint you the care of my silk-worms, wl4ich is a post of great honer and profit. and requires no exertion of sur f passing genies. As for you, Mustapha Aga, if in a mouth ydu do not find 1130 woman wore beautiful than all these three put together, the bowstring shall be drawn which, until then, you are to carry about 1 with you on yuur neck.'