the favourite Sultana ; the first place in my heart,
and on my throne, will be ever yours."

Miss Bule, upon that assurance, consented to
propound the idea to her seven beautiful
companions. It occurring to me, in the course of
the same day, that we knew we could trust a
grinning and good-natured soul called Tabby,
who was the serving drudge of the house, and had
no more figure than one of the beds, and upon
whose face there was always more or less blacklead,
I slipped into Miss Bule's hand after supper,
a little note to that effect: dwelling on the blacklead
as being in a manner deposited by the finger
of Providence, pointing Tabby out for Mesrour,
the celebrated chief of the Blacks of the Hareem.

There were difficulties in the formation of the
desired institution, as there are in all combinations.
The other creature showed himself of a
low character, and, when defeated in aspiring
to the throne, pretended to have conscientious
scruples about prostrating himself before the
Caliph; wouldn't call him Commander of the
Faithful; spoke of him slightingly and
inconsistently as a mere "chap;" said he, the other
creature, "wouldn't play"—Play!— and was
otherwise coarse and offensive. This meanness of
disposition was, however, put down by the
general indignation of an united Seraglio, and I
became blessed in the smiles of eight of the
fairest of the daughters of men.

The smiles could only be bestowed when Miss
Griffin was looking another way, and only then
in a very wary manner, for there was a legend
among the followers of the Prophet that she saw
with a little round ornament in the middle of
the pattern on the back of her shawl. But,
every day after dinner, for an hour, we were all
together, and then the Favourite and the rest of
the Royal Hareem competed who should most
beguile the leisure of the Serene Haroun
reposing from the cares of State—which were
generally, as in most affairs of State, of an
Arithmetical character, the Commander of the
Faithful being a fearful boggler at a sum.

On these occasions, the devoted Mesrour,
chief of the Blacks of the Hareem, was always in
attendance (Miss Griffin usually ringing for that
officer, at the same time, with great vehemence),
but never acquitted himself in a manner
worthy of his historical reputation. In the first
place, his bringing a broom into the Divan of
the Caliph, even when Haroun wore on his
shoulders the red robe of anger (Miss Pipson's
pelisse), though it might be got over for the
moment, was never to be quite satisfactorily
accounted for. In the second place, his breaking
out into grinning exclamations of "Lork
you pretties!" was neither Eastern nor respectful.
In the third place, when specially instructed
to say " Bismillah!" he always said
"Hallelujah!" This officer, unlike his class, was
too good-humoured altogether, kept hls mouth
open far too wide, expressed approbation to an
incongruous extent, and even once—it was on the
occasion of the purchase of the Fair Circassian
for five hundred thousand purses of gold, and
cheap, too—embraced the Slave, the Favourite,
and the Caliph, all round. (Parenthetically let
me say God bless Mesrour, and may there have
been sons and daughters on that tender bosom,
softening many a hard day since !)

Miss Griffin was a model of propriety, and
I am at a loss to imagine what the feelings of
the virtuous woman would have been, if she had
known, when she paraded us down the
Hampstead-road two and two, that she was walking
with a stately step at the head of Polygamy
and Mahomedanism. I believe that a
mysterious and terrible joy with which the
comtemplation of Miss Griffin, in this unconscious state,
inspired us, and a grim sense prevalent among
us that there was a dreadful power in our
knowledge of what Miss Griffin (who knew all
things that could be learnt out of book) didn't
know, were the mainspring of the preservation
of our secret. It was wonderfully kept, but was
once upon the verge of self-betrayal. The
danger and escape occurred upon a Sunday.
We were all ten ranged in a conspicuous part
of the gallery at church, with Miss Griffin at
our head—as we were every Sunday—
advertising the establishment in an unsecular sort of
way—when the description of Solomon in his
domestic glory, happened to be read. The
moment that monarch was thus referred to,
conscience whispered me, "Thou, too, Haroun!"
The officiating minister had a cast in his eye,
and it assisted conscience by giving him the
appearance of reading personally at me. A crimson
blush, attended by a fearful perspiration,
suffused my features. The Grand Vizier became
more dead than alive, and the whole Seraglio
reddened as if the sunset of Bagdad shone direct
upon their lovely faces. At this portentous
time the awful Griffin rose, and balefully
surveyed the children of Islam. My own impression
was, that Church and State had entered into
a conspiracy with Miss Griffin to expose us, and
that we should all be put into white sheets, and
exhibited in the centre aisle. But, so Westerly
—if I may be allowed the expression as opposite
to Eastern associations—was Miss Griffin's
sense of rectitude, that she merely suspected
Apples, and we were saved.

I have called the Seraglio, united. Upon the
question, solely, whether the Commander of the
Faithful durst exercise a right of kissing in that
sanctuary of the palace, were its peerless
inmates divided. Zobeide asserted a counter-right
in the Favourite to scratch, and the fair Circassian
put her face, for refuge, into a green
baize bag, originally designed for books. On
the other hand, a young antelope of transcendant
beauty from the fruitful plains of Camden-
town (whence she had been brought, by traders,
in the half-yearly caravan that crossed the
intermediate desert after the holidays), held more
liberal opinions, but stipulated for limiting the
benefit of them to that dog, and son of a dog,
the Grand Vizier—who had no rights, and was
not in question. At length, the difficulty was
compromised by the installation of a very youthful
slave as Deputy. She, raised upon a stool,
officially received upon her cheeks the salutes