"And I found none, Mother Khadra; I must learn to do with little, to
conquer hunger, and I fought with it for two days. See how I am
rewarded!--my food never tasted so deliciously before."

"Eat, my boy! Allah bless your food and drink! How fortunate that I
have something for your thirst, too! Uncle Toussoun Aga brought me
to-day a bottle of Cyprian wine, a present from Mr. Lion. You must
drink of it, my boy."

He shook his head. "No, Sitta Khadra, I will not drink of the wine
sent you by the noble merchant to restore your strength. Water from
the well, from the spring of life, is a better drink for me. For
you, the Cyprian wine, for me the spring-wine that bubbles from the
rock."

He took down the gourd cup from the wall, and went out and quenched
his thirst with long draughts at the spring, and then returned to
his mother. He was now restored to strength and vigor; the color
returned to his cheeks, and his knees no longer trembled.

"My eyes' delight, my Mohammed fresh and full of life again!" cried
Mother Khadra. "Light of my life, I am glad to see you yourself
again. But I beg you, my boy, not to make such cruel experiments on
yourself. It is wholesome to harden the body, but not to abuse it,
and you abuse your own handsome self when you torment yourself with
hunger and thirst unnecessarily."

"Not unnecessarily, Mother Khadra," he replied, shaking his head.
"He, only, who knows how to practise self-denial, can enjoy. At
first I couldn't understand this, now I do, and have experienced it