Author : Robert Blatchford
Release : 2013-09
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Book Rating : 123/5 ( reviews)

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The Nunquam Papers - read free eBook in online reader or directly download on the web page. Select files or add your book in reader. Download and read online ebook The Nunquam Papers write by Robert Blatchford. This book was released on 2013-09. The Nunquam Papers available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1895 edition. Excerpt: ... A MERRY BARD. jjISMILLAH! The barn-cock is a bumptious bird, and given much to crowing. He scratcheth all day in the rubbish heap for a few poor grains of barley, and, having found them, hops upon the handle of the muck rake and toots his horn. Praise be to Allah! I am a merry bard. He will walk a league to fight another rooster, and return with bloody comb and draggled plumage, and stand on one leg to crow in the darkness. He joyeth in the gobbling up of worms, but hath not time to view the sun-rise. Praise be to Allah! I am a merry bard. The redbreast is an idle vagrant. He toils not, neither doth he spin; but he taps at my window when the East is streaked with grey, and crieth "It is morning." Praise be to Allah! The morning is good business. He perches gaily on a holly bough, and sings, because he is glad. Praise be to Allah! The redbreast is a bul-bul, but the rooster is a nuisance. I am a merry bard. There is a money-spinner in the City of the Infidels who labours through a bunch of years that he may get many shekels and give them to another man to lock up in an iron chamber. Praise be to Allah! The money-spinner is a merchant. He has a ruby nose, and his belly trembles with fatness. The poet sits in the hanging gardens of Stamboul, and tootles upon a pipe of gold. He makes verses and sings them through his nose, like a Frankish tenor; but he scorns to soil his hands with trade. Praise be to Allah! The young damsels cast upon him the tender glances of the sheep, and the smooth-chinned youth presenteth him with backsheesh. I am a merry bard. The poet knows somewhat; but the monney-spinner is an ass. Selah? The Pasha rides forth in his carriage when the sun is hot, and behold he is languid, and lacketh energy to curse the flies....