Deep pages, 1

Down to the second level of the well

His Majesty the Sultan bet me his beard that no man could count the sand in his garden. I asked for a spoon and one afternoon. At sundown I gave him a number so long it took two clerks to say it. He checked none of it, shaved at once, and wept.

Camels spit only at liars, so you can guess why they adore me. In Arabia a herd of them followed me for miles, dry as dust and full of respect. One old bull offered me his hump. I declined, being a modest man, and rode two of them instead.

Turtles make slow ferries, but they are very sure. I boarded one at Cape Verde with a lunch, a book, and a folding chair. We reached Brazil after three years. On the way I wrote a long poem, grew quite thin, and taught the beast to nod at a lady.

Flags are hard to carry on a windy day. At the battle of Bender mine grew so large with pride that it lifted me off my horse. I floated over both armies, waving. Everyone stopped to clap. Then we all had lunch, and the war just sort of ended.

Onions won me a wife. I peeled one in front of her father, and the old miser wept for the first time in his life. He gave me her hand, her dowry, and the key.