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of a Butterfly what he ought to have done long ago for his own
sake, and the quarrelsome Queens will be frightened!'

The the butterfly stamped. The Djinns jerked the Palace and the
gardens a thousand miles into the air: there was a most awful
thunder-clap, and everything grew inky-black. The Butterfly's
Wife fluttered about in the dark, crying, 'Oh, I'll be good! I'm
so sorry I spoke. Only bring the gardens back, my dear darling
husband, and I'll never contradict again.'

The Butterfly was nearly as frightened as his wife, and
Suleiman-bin-Daoud laughed so much that it was several minutes
before he found breath enough to whisper to the Butterfly,
'Stamp again, little brother. Give me back my Palace, most
great magician.'

'Yes, give him back his Palace,' said the Butterfly's Wife, still
flying about in the dark like a moth. 'Give him back his Palace,
and don't let's have any more horrid.magic.'

'Well, my dear,' said the Butterfly as bravely as he could, 'you
see what your nagging has led to. Of course it doesn't make any
difference to me--I'm used to this kind of thing--but as a favour
to you and to Suleiman-bin-Daoud I don't mind putting things right.'

So he stamped once more, and that instant the Djinns let down the
Palace and the gardens, without even a bump. The sun shone on the
dark-green orange leaves; the fountains played among the pink
Egyptian lilies; the birds went on singing, and the Butterfly's
Wife lay on her side under the camphor-tree waggling her wings and
panting, 'Oh, I'll be good! I'll be good!'

Suleiman-bin-Daolld could hardly speak for laughing. He leaned
back all weak and hiccoughy, and shook his finger at the
Butterfly and said, 'O great wizard, what is the sense of
returning to me my Palace if at the same time you slay me with
mirth!'

Then came a terrible noise, for all the nine hundred and
ninety-nine Queens ran out of the Palace shrieking and shouting
and calling for their babies. They hurried down the great marble
steps below the fountain, one hundred abreast, and the Most Wise
Balkis went statelily forward to meet them and said, 'What is
your trouble, O Queens?'

They stood on the marble steps one hundred abreast and shouted,
'What is our trouble? We were living peacefully in our golden
palace, as is our custom, when upon a sudden the Palace
disappeared, and we were left sitting in a thick and noisome
darkness; and it thundered, and Djinns and Afrits moved about in
the darkness! That is our trouble, O Head Queen, and we are most
extremely troubled on account of that trouble, for it was a
troublesome trouble, unlike any trouble we have known.'

Then Balkis the Most Beautiful Queen--Suleiman-bin-Daoud's Very
Best Beloved--Queen that was of Sheba and Sable and the Rivers of
the Gold of the South--from the Desert of Zinn to the Towers of

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