"
"And how rapidly you learned all this!" said Osman. "It surprised
everybody, and I assure you the scha-rer is always charmed when he
speaks of you, and he listens admiringly to what you say after the
lessons are over. Yes, the scha-rer says, if you only would you
could become one of the greatest of scholars, so rapid has been your
progress; but-"
"But one thing I have not learned", said Mohammed, interrupting him
with a smile". You were about to begin the old story, were you not,
Osman? 'But you never would learn to write,' you were about to say."
"Yes, that is what I intended to say, my friend, and this one thing
you must still learn: to use the pen and write down your thoughts on
paper."
"I cannot", cried Mohammed, impatiently; "my hands are too rough.
The oar and the gun have made my fingers so stiff that I cannot use
the pen."
"Then let it be so. I will torment you about it no longer." said
Osman, with a sigh. "You are my head and I am your hand. You think
for me, and I shall write for you. So shall it be throughout our
entire lives, for together we two must remain, and nothing can
separate us. Is it not so, my friend? Say it, and say it often, that
nothing can separate us. For you must know that if fate should tear
you from me it would kill me, and that you cannot intend: therefore,
we shall ever remain together, shall we not?"
"We shall ever remain together," said Mohammed.
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