The next spring, I was busy pumping off from one cask into the other,
according to our custom, when the aga of the janissaries came in. He was
a great wine-bibber, and one of our best customers. As his dependents
were all well-known, it was not his custom to send them for wine, but to
come himself to the store and select a pipe. This was carried away in a
litter by eight strong slaves, with the curtains drawn close, as if it
had been a new purchase which he had added to his harem. My master
showed him the pipes of wine prepared for that year's market, which were
arranged in two rows; and I hardly need observe that the one containing
the Ethiopian was not in the foremost. After tasting one or two which
did not seem to please him, the aga observed, "Friend Issachar, thy
tribe will always put off the worst goods first, if possible. Now I have
an idea that there is better wine in the second tier, than in the one
thou hast recommended. Let thy Greek put a spile into that cask,"
continued he, pointing to the very one in which I had headed up the
black slave. As I made sure that as soon as he had tasted the contents
he would spit them out, I did not hesitate to bore the cask and draw off
the wine, which I handed to him. He tasted it and held it to the
light--tasted it again and smacked his lips--then turning to my master,
exclaimed, "Thou dog of a Jew! wouldst thou have palmed off upon me vile
trash, when thou hadst in thy possession wine which might be sipped with
the Houris in Paradise?"
The Jew appealed to me if the pipes of wine were not all of the same
quality; and I confirmed his assertion.
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