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.
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