People's Pilot, Volume 3, Number 41, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 March 1894 — THE STRING OF PEARLS. [ARTICLE]

THE STRING OF PEARLS.

A Woman’s Aje Spoils Her Prospect! Before the Court. “Sir,” said Abdullah, a» he appeared with his sister, Fatima, before the judge, “perhaps you will remember the brave Abbas, who died thirty years ago. He was our father, a»d left both of us his property in equal proportions, on which we have hitherto subsisted in common. Fatima, it is true, has been peevish and quarrelsome during the last few years, but I always gave way, as I am a lover of peace. But I have recently chosen the beautifhl Zoraida for my bride and thought of giving her this valuable string of pearls—the most precious keepsake of my father’s in my possession; for he gave it to me on his return from a journey when I was five years old, and it has been mine ever since. But Fatima will have it that the pearls are part of our fathers legacy and claims half of them as her share. She refuses to listen to my arguments and insists upon her claim —not, indeed, for the sake of the pearls; oh, no! I see quite plainly she wants to spoil my pleasure and that of my bride-elect, for my sister does not like tho idea of Zoraida entering the paternal home as mistress. Now, wise cadi, give judgment.** The cadi bowed his head and said: “Fatima, is the case as your brother has stated?”

“It is all quite correct, excepting th« assertion that the string of pearls belongs to him alone. How does he mean to prove that father gave it to him? I dispute the fact and claim my share; my reason for so doing is immaterial to the question at issue.” “Well, Abdullah,” said the cadi addressing the plaintiff, “have you any living witnesses or handwriting to prove that your father gave you the pearls?” “I have nothing of the kind,” wm the reply. “That is a bad lookout,” the cadi continued. “I fear there is no prospect of an amicable settlement by persuading your sister to accept a sum of money for her share.” “No,” she broke in; “I want half of the pearls!” “very well,” said the cadi, beckoning to his clerk; “I must have a report of the case drawn up before delivering judgment. Say, defendant, your name is Fatima —what is your age?” Here she blushed, hesitated, tried more than once to speak, but never uttered a syllable. “How old are you?” tho cadi ro peated; “speak!” At last she replied in faltering tones: “I am twenty-eight.” “Really?” said the judge with an ironical smile. “I hereby award the whole string of pearls to Abdullat alone. Take them, plaintiff, and go your way in peace! Fatima is not your sister; for Abbas died thirty years ago, and she is only twenty-eight*”—Flio-gende Blaetter.