There once lived a poor tailor, who had a son called Aladdin,
a careless, idle boy who would do nothing but play all day long in
the streets with little idle boys like himself. This so grieved the
father that he died; yet, in spite of his mother's tears and prayers,
Aladdin did not mend his ways. One day, when he was playing in the
streets as usual, a stranger asked him his age, and if he was not
the son of Mustapha the tailor. "I am, sir," replied Aladdin;
"but he died a long while ago." On this the stranger, who was
a famous African magician, fell on his neck and kissed him saying:
"I am your uncle, and knew you from your likeness to my brother.
Go to your mother and tell her I am coming." Aladdin ran home
and told his mother of his newly found uncle. "Indeed, child," she
said, "your father had a brother, but I always thought he was dead."
However, she prepared supper, and bade Aladdin seek his uncle,
who came laden with wine and fruit. He fell down and kissed the
place where Mustapha used to sit, bidding Aladdin's mother not to
be surprised at not having seen him before, as he had been forty
years out of the country. He then turned to Aladdin, and asked
him his trade, at which the boy hung his head, while his mother
burst into tears. On learning that Aladdin was idle and would
learn no trade, he offered to take a shop for him and stock it with
merchandise. Next day he bought Aladdin a fine suit of clothes and
took him all over the city, showing him the sights, and brought him home
at nightfall to his mother, who was overjoyed to see her son so fine.

Next day the magician led Aladdin into some beautiful gardens a
long way outside the city gates. They sat down by a fountain and
the magician pulled a cake from his girdle, which he divided
between them. Then they journeyed onwards till they almost reached
the mountains. Aladdin was so tired that he begged to go back,