"Not much of a story, dear," was the reply"only a little legend of the manna trees; but, such as it is, you shall have it:

The manna-seller was evidently irritated, and intimated, in dumb show, that I must leave the caravanserai at once, as he was shutting up for the night.

Here blooms the lily; there the fragrant rose; Here spouts a fountain; there a riv'let flows; From every spray the liquid manna trills, And honey from the softening bark distills.