Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1898-02-19
THE TURKISH PROD|GAL SON
The Story as Told in the Land of the
Oaliphs.

From time immemorial the land of the
Caliphs has abounded in story tellers, and
today one of the chief diversions of the
Turkish people is the telling of tales. One
of these stories which like particularly is
a version of the prodigai son, and this l
have put into English as follows, getting
it, 1 ought to say, by word of mouth and
not from any book.
There was once a venerable mudir, or
governor, who had everything in the world
he could ask for fortune and the respect
Of his fellows, and the consciousness of
well-spent life everything save the knowl-
edge that his only son was growing up to
be good and useful man. Alas, it was
quite the contrary and the mudir saw with
sadness that the young man was FESTIVE
under all restraint and impatient of whole
some counsels caring only for the pursuit
of pleasure and passing his time more and
more with idle and vicious companions.
In vain he reasoned and pleaded with his
son, showing him, now in anger. now in
tears, what the outcome of such living
must be, how he would sQuander his heri-
tage as many had done before him, and
lose his gay friends and finally sink to
the lowest depth. Sometimes the young
man would be moved by these words to re-
pentance and fair promises, but these he
would soon forget all about. and go back
as before to his feasting and drinking, his
gambling and reveling.
At last day came when the mudir
saw that he was near to die; SO he sent
for his son and spoke to him with tender
words. MY son." he said, II have loveo
thee we'll in my life and 1 love thee well
now that my days are spent. Thy follies
have grieved me, but have forgiven them,
and if anything remains | forgive that
freely. All that have shall be thine. this
rnlnf md oil md and a my
Would that could leave thee also my good
name. l give thee no counsels my son, for
l know they would be vain. But ask OF
thee this promise-that if the day comes,
as it will, when all the glitter of pleasure
that tempts thee now has changed to
ashes, when those who have Toasted with
thee turn their backs on tiny distress. when
thou hast no friend in the world. and no
food to put into thy mouth, then, when in
the bitterness Of thy heart thou shalt re-
solve to die, go to the stable where the
asses are and hang myself with a halter
thou wilt find made ready
Having spoken thus, the mudir gave his
son his blessing, and after few days he
was gathered to his ancestors. And the
young man mOurned his father with deep
sincerity, and resolved with all his heart
that now he would carry out the wise pre-
cepts which he had so sadly neglected.
And for a time he led worthier life, so
that some thought he had left his evil
ways. to return to them no more. But this
toe strong, the holdings of pleasure too
alluring. and in a little time the young
nan was back with his merry friends
again. ard now his madness knew no
boz nds, for he wished to forget his father
and the resolutions he had made and the
prayers he had said. And the news of his
follies spread to distant cities.
So it was until the mudir's words came
true, and the young mans heritage was
squandered, and his health was broken and
his friends were turning from him. The
palace was to be taken for his debts, the
gold and lands were gone,s he had scarcely
TODD enough for a single meal, only lit
tie meat So he took mis- meat and made 1t
with rice into a piaff and Joined some of
his former companions who were going on
for holiday in the woods. one bringing
nuts and another cakes and another wine
When they saw the pilaff in his hand they
welcomed him.
But scarcely had they reached the place
in the woods where they were to eat when
a dog stole away the plan which the young
man had laid upon the ground. And when
the others saw that the pilaf which the
young man had laid upon the ground was
gone and that the young man had nothing
let him sit down with them. but laughed at
him when he said he was hungry and cried
out: The dog has taken thy share; go eat
with the dog"
with bitterness in his heart and he remem-
bered his fathers words and saw that of all
his pleasures only ashes remained. and saw
that his friends, those who had Toasted
and reveled with him many times while he
had his heritage, had turned him away
hungry And on the morrow he knew that
the palace would be taken from him and
he would have no roof above his head.
And there was no place in the world where
he could turn for help, so he said to him
self in his despair: The words that my
father spoke were true. i will go and hang
myself in the stable where the asses are;
it is better So" Then he went to the stable
and stood upon a heavy water jar and he
fixed the moose of the halter around his
neck and sprang into the air But his
weight upon the halter caused a little door
in the ceiling to open and Immediately, in
stead of going to his death, he found him
self safe on the ground, half buried in a
shower of gold that came down from above
And at that moment he saw how great had
been his fathers love for him and wisdom
for here at the moment Of his shame and
misery that forgivng hand had been
stretched forth as from beyond the grave
to give him one more chance. AS the
young man thought of this he threw him
self on the floor of the stable and lay there
in tears for long time, thinking Of his
father. And when he rose UP he was
different man.
Some months after this the young man
gave feast at his palace more splendid
than any he had ever given. And he in
vited all his old friends to the feast and
gave them a cordial welcome and they,
with praise and fiattery, showed him how
glad they were to be gathered at his
board once more. But when 1t came time
to carry healths and speak over flowing
cups they saw that the young man touch
ed no. wine. And when, last of ALL 1t came
his turn to speak, he rose to his knees,
while the others sat cross-legged, and in a
low tone related what had befallen him
since his fathers death; how with them
he had wasted his fortune and sunk to di-
rect want; how, when he needed food not
one of them would help him, and, finally,
how he had been saved.
Now my friends he concluded, 81 have
paid every debt l owe in the world save
one, but that. although 1 have fortune
still, will take all my lifes best efforts to
pay. 1t is the debt l owe my father. He
bade me to beware of gambling and of
drinking and of reveling. and to shun those
who do those things, and to shun false
friends. He told me that the secret of
peaceful mind lies in an earnest life and
not in pleasure. For years l gave no heed
to these wise words. and you know what
that cost me, and | know. But l shall
heed them now and follow the teachings
of my father. Dear friends. l hope to see
You here many times in the future but
this l say, that the only ones Of you who
will ever sit around this board again arc
those who will help me pay my debt. Now,
glasses up. give you the last toast of the
evening. gentlemen. nv father"