XXV.

So having said, the youth was seen no more, And straightway our sage Brahmin, the philosopher, Cried, "That was aimed at thee, thou endless bore, Idle and useless as the growth of moss over A rotting tree-trunk!" "I would square that score Full soon," replied the Dervise, "could I cross over And catch thee by the beard! Thy nails I'd trim And make thee work, as was advised by him."