I used to travel with musicians once."
God bless him!--what a workman. He conversed
With all the customers who passed that way.
He took them in the shop and told his case--
"I'm here for a short while." Then he began
To praise his patron, who, he said, would have
A gift for him.
And his lieutenant, named
Oulyd-el-Hadj Oualy, is a fool
Who thinks his word superior to all,
And that there's no one like him in this world.
When he has gone there and come back again,
He will be perfect. All he contradicts
Who speak to him, and will not let them lift
A finger. Little love he hath for those
Who speak with candor, but he's very fond
Of liars, and always bids them come to him.
"My childhood was so pampered!" he remarks,
And flies into a passion if one doubts.
He only lives on semolina coarse,
And empty is his paunch, all slack and limp.
Yet every day he tells you how he's dined.
"I have discovered," he is wont to say
"A certain semolina lately brought
By a Maltese, who lives some distance off.
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