Upon Arrival At The Brink Of The Dirty Brook, That
Was About Three Feet Deep, The Mule Positively Refused To Enter The
Water, And Stood Firm With Its Fore Feet Sunk Deep In The Mud.
The
attendant attempted to push it on behind, and at the same time gave it a
sharp blow with his sheathed sword.
This changed the scene to the "opera
comique." In one instant the mule gave so vigorous and unexpected a kick
into the bowels of the attendant that he fell upon his back, heels,
uppermost, while at the same moment the minstrel, in his snow-white
garments, was precipitated head fore-most into the muddy brook, and, for
the moment disappearing, the violin alone could be seen floating on the
surface. A second later, a wretched-looking object, covered with slime
and filth, emerged from the slongh; this was Paganini the second! who,
after securing his fiddle, that had stranded on a mud-bank, scrambled up
the steel slope, amid the roars of laughter of my people and of
ourselves, while the perverse mule, having turned harmony into discord,
kicked up its heels and galloped off, braying an ode in praise of
liberty, as the "Lay of the Last Minstrel." The discomfited fiddler was
wiped down by my Tokrooris, who occasionally burst into renewed fits of
laughter during the operation. The mule was caught, and the minstrel
remounted, and returned home completely out of tune.
On the following morning at sunrise I mounted my horse, and, accompanied
by Taher Noor and Bacheet, I rode to pay my respects to Mek Nimmur.
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