The Tailor and the Jinns

A tailor and a weaver once set out on along journey together They were looking for a country where they could earn much higher wages than their money-grabbing townsmen would pay. To remain forever poor was wearisome, and visions of great wealth swam before their eyes as they pushed steadily on.

But after two days of painful trudging, the weaver's spirits flagged, his heart sickened with thoughts of home and comfort. Somewhat sheepishly, he turned to his companion. "I dreamed last night of my wife and children", he whined, "and they seemed to cry out for me. I do think I must turn back."

"So you must, indeed, my friend," the tailor readily agreed.

As the tailor now plunged forward alone, he swung the emblems of his trade bravely before him, his metal yardstick in one hand and his large pair of scissors in the other. That seemed to give him courage.

By and by, as darkness fell, he came to a thick forest. The trees here shot up straight into the sky, and all round arose fearful sounds that chilled him to the marrow. What could the poor tailor do? He tried banging the tree-trunks with his yardstick and brandishing his scissors as though it were a sword. That helped a little.

He had not made much progress before he perceived in the gathering darkness, right in front of him, a ladder propped up against a tree taller than the rest. "Ha, now indeed I may clamber up into safety for the night," he murmured to himself as he set his feet on the firm, inviting rungs. Up and up he went. There were more rungs, and ever more. "I might find myself in heaven with all this climbing!" the wretched man moaned. His feet dragged painfully and he breathed hard. But when he was about to give up this fruitless adventure, he touched what appeared to be solid, wooden flooring. What a relief! He peered unsteadily into the blackness and espied some distance away a wooden cabin with a faint beam of light showing through a crack in the door.

Even as the tailor's thoughts hovered around visions of food and a bed to stretch his tired limbs on, there was an ominous rumble. The door of the cabin was flung open and out stepped the most ferocious looking Jinn you could imagine. Eyes like saucers, a cruel hooker nose, teeth like a wild beast's fangs, a wide, cavernous mouth. The floor groaned under his weight and his voice rolled out like thunder. "Hr. m.ph...gr..r.r... What brings you here?" he demanded.

"Not a friendly greeting!" muttered the tailor to himself. He was shaking like a leaf in a gale, of course, though luckily that escaped the Jinn's notice. But he was a brave man for his size, and his wits were as sharp as the sharpest needle he had used. In a trice, he had steadied himself.

"Er.. I am frightfully sorry to trouble you," he brought out in level tones. "But my master, the great Lord Solomon, will have only the best hide for his winter robe. If you will excuse me, I must rip the skin off you" (here he snipped his scissors viciously) "and measure it out for a coat" (with a menacing flourish of the yardstick).

"O-o-o-h;" the Jinn groaned and stepped back. It was now his turn to shiver. For all his hulking body, his brains were smaller than a sparrow's ! "No, no;" he wheedled, "perhaps you might seek elsewhere? I shall, of course,...er, make it worth your while."

The tailor's clever stratagem had worked; he was beside himself with relief. He now solemnly pretended to revolve the Jinn's offer in his mind. "Well, well," he whispered like a conspirator, "... I might, you know." But the Jinn had disappeared into his cabin. He was back in the winking of an eye carrying a bag of gold coins and a fistful of glittering gems that he thrust into the tailor's hands. "Now if that will do, take yourself off elsewhere and leave me in peace," he implored, and nearly pushed the bewildered tailor off the tree-top.

As for our hero, he hardly knew whether he was standing on his head or his feet. He spent the night at the foot of the tree, clutching his precious treasure. When day dawned he was hurrying homeward.

Back in his town, what should the tailor do but display his wealth and strut about like a prince! They were all stunned, the good town folk, and none more so than the weaver who had deserted him on the outskirts of the forest. One evening he sidled up to his friend and coaxed the story out of him.

The weaver's eyes bulged with wonder as the tailor unfolded hip wondrous tale. Why, they must set out again. Perhaps there was countless wealth for the mere asking, and the Jinns, poor things, were such awful nitwits!

The tailor, now grown arrogant, hardly needed much persuasion and so one fine morning the two fared forth in search of the Jinn, secret hoard.

After three weary days of journeying, the friends found themselves in the self-same forest. It was pitch dark when they reached the foot of the ladder.

Panting for breath, they gained the very top. But how utterly still things were! Not a breath issued from the cabin. Instead, on a sudden, there arose a spine-chilling din from below.

When the two friends peered down, a most frightful spectacle met their eyes. More than a score of Jinns were seated on their haunches, round a sacrificial fire, chanting, all together, a prayer to lord Solomon. What a horrible noise they setup, ! A thin, old priest, meanwhile, poured oblations into the fire.

The weaver lost his nerve and toppled over the edge, right into the circle of Jinns. It was lucky the tailor kept his presence of mind. With ready wit he yelled out as loud as his lungs would permit, "Quick, round them up, round them up! I'll be down in a moment with scissors and yardstick. Quick!"

Pandemonium was let loose at the foot of the tree. Yelling a screaming, fighting and scratching, the Jinns fled helter-skelter into the forest. The poor priest fell down in a dead faint. The tailor scrambled down and saw beside the prostrate priest a large sack of gold and a heap of precious stones. It was a moment's work to help the shaking weaver to his feet. The two then collected all that they could lay their hands on, and before daybreak turned tired footsteps homeward. '

There was wealth beyond the wildest dreams of avarice in the bag. They shared it equally between themselves and settled down to a life of plenty and ease.

And the wondering townsmen, who had heard whispered tales, pointed to them in the street and nudged one another, "Mere go the two valiant men who conquered the Jinns of the forest!"