is poor father was very much troubled, and ordered
Aladdin to come to the workshop to learn to be a tailor, but Aladdin
only laughed, and ran away so swiftly that neither his father nor
mother could catch him.

"Alas!" said Mustapha sadly, "I can do nothing with this idle boy."

And he grew so sad about it, that at last he fell ill and died.

Then the poor widow was obliged to sell the little workshop, and try
to make enough money for herself and Aladdin by spinning.

Now it happened that one day when Aladdin was playing as usual with
the idle street boys, a tall, dark, old man stood watching him, and
when the game was finished he made a sign to Aladdin to come to him.

"What is thy name, my boy?" asked this old man, who, though he
appeared so kind, was really an African Magician.

"My name is Aladdin," answered the boy, wondering who this stranger
could be.

"And what is thy father's name?" asked the Magician.

"My father was Mustapha the tailor, but he has been dead a long time
now," answered Aladdin.

"Alas!" cried the wicked old Magician, pretending to weep, "he was my
brother, and thou must be my nephew. I am thy long-lost uncle!" and he
threw his arms round Aladdin's neck and embraced him.

"Tell thy dear mother that I will come and see her this very day," he
cried, "and give her this small present." And he placed in Aladdin's
hands five gold pieces.

Aladdin ran home in great haste to tell his mother the story of the
long-lost uncle.

"It must be a mistake," she said, "thou hast no uncle."

But when she saw the gold she began to think that this stranger must
be a relation, and so she prepared a grand supper to welcome him when
he came.

They had not long to wait before the African Magician appeared,
bringing with him all sorts of fruits and delicious sweets for desert.

"Tell me about my poor brother," he said, as he embraced Aladdin and
his mother. "Show me exactly where he used to sit."

Then the widow pointed to a seat on the sofa, and the Magician knelt
down and began to kiss the place and weep over it.

The poor widow was quite touched, and began to believe that this
really must be her husband's brother, especially when he began to show
the kindest interest in Aladdin.

"What is thy trade?" he asked the boy.

"Alas!" said the widow, "he will do nothing but play in the streets."

Aladdin hung his head with shame as his uncle gravely shook his head.

"He must begin work at once," he s