of his health, and indeed everything but his conviction that it
was a beautiful invention and sure of success. When Aladdin
arrived, he was red and wrinkled, after the everlasting fashion
of the human babe, and had no name, so because of the wonderful
lamp they called him Aladdin. And that rendered his first
school-days wretched and had nothing to do with the rest of his
life, after the everlasting fashion of wonderful names.
Aladdin's mother went out of the world in the very natural act
of ushering his young brother into it, and he remembered her as
a thin person who was not strictly honorable (for, having
betrayed him with a kiss, she punished him for smoking) and had
a headache. So there was nobody to miss Aladdin or to waste the
valuable night in looking for him.

About this time Margaret began to cry and Aladdin to comfort
her, and they stumbled about in the woods trying to find
--anything. After awhile they happened into a grassy glade
between two steep rocks, and there agreeing to rest, scrunched
into a depression of the rock on the right. And Margaret, her
nose very red, her hat at an angle, and her head on Aladdin's
shoulder, sobbed herself to sleep. And then, because being
trusted is next to being God, and the most moving and gentlest
condition possible, Aladdin, for the first time, felt the full
measure of his crime in leading Margaret from the straight way
home, and he pressed her close to him and stroked her draggled
hair with his cold little hands and cried. Whenever she moved
in sleep, his heart went out to her, and before the night was
old he loved her forever.

Sleep did not come to Aladdin, who had suddenly become a