Your Majesty, in the capital of a kingdom in China, whose name escapes me, there lived a tailor by the name of Mustafa. He was unremarkable, except for his professional demeanor. Mustafa was very poor, and his work barely provided enough for him, his wife, and their son.
The son, Aladdin, was raised quite carelessly and, as a result, fell into bad company. He became mischievous, stubborn, and disobedient to his parents. As he grew older, his parents could not keep him at home, and he would spend his days roaming the streets and public places with other vagrant children, some even younger than him.
When Aladdin came of age to learn a trade, his father could not find him any other occupation besides his own. He took his son into his shop and tried to teach him sewing and mending. However, neither gentleness nor threats could prevent Aladdin from idling away his time or make him apply himself diligently and attentively to his work, as his father desired.
Mustafa would turn his back, and Aladdin would immediately run out and spend the entire day away from home. No amount of punishment from his father could correct him. Regretfully, Mustafa had to give up and leave his son to his vagabond ways. This caused him great sorrow, and his grief at not being able to reform his son made him fall sick and die a few months later.
Aladdin’s mother, seeing that her son would not follow in his father’s trade, closed the shop and sold off the goods and tools of her husband’s trade to provide for their livelihood, supplemented by the little she earned from spinning.
Illustration.
Aladdin, now free from the fear of his father and even less afraid of his mother, whom he often threatened when she chided him, gave himself up entirely to idleness and spent more time than ever with his young companions, indulging in all sorts of fun and mischief. This continued until he was fifteen years old, doing nothing to improve his mind or think of how he would earn a living when he was older.
One day, while he was idling away his time in the public square with his gang of young vagrants, a stranger passed by, stopped, and looked at him. This man was none other than a formidable African sorcerer.
The African sorcerer, either by his skill in physiognomy, recognizing in Aladdin’s features the qualities he sought, or by his art, having learned about his family, character, and inclinations, approached the young man, drew him aside from his companions, and asked him:
“My boy, is not your father the tailor Mustafa?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Aladdin, “but he has been dead a long time.” At this, the African sorcerer embraced Aladdin, kissed him several times, and burst into tears. Aladdin, seeing the sorcerer weep, asked him why he was crying.
“Alas, my child,” cried the sorcerer, “how can I help but weep? I am your father’s brother, your uncle, and the most affectionate friend he had in the world. I have been abroad for many years, and the first news I hear on my return is that my dear brother is no more! I would have embraced him and given him every possible testimony of my love and friendship, and now I can only offer them to you, his son, in his place.”
Saying this, he put his hand into his purse and gave Aladdin some small money, adding, “Go and tell your mother that you have seen your father’s brother, who will come and pay his respects to her this evening, if she will permit him, and talk over matters with her concerning the friendship between her husband and me.”
As soon as the African sorcerer had left him, Aladdin ran home to his mother and, showing her the money the supposed uncle had given him, told her what the stranger had said. “Child,” said his mother, “your father had no brother, neither on his father’s nor on his mother’s side.”
“Mother,” replied Aladdin, “do not you remember he had a brother who traveled abroad many years ago? The stranger is certainly that uncle returned. He cried when I told him of my father’s death, and he gave me this money, begging you would permit him to come and see you this evening.”
“Son,” said his mother, “your father had a brother, indeed, but he has been dead a great while. However, since this good man wishes to see me, and has sent money into the bargain, I will see him. Go and tell him he will be welcome.”
The next day, the African sorcerer met Aladdin in another part of the town and embraced him with as much joy as he had pretended to show the day before. He gave him two pieces of gold and asked him where he lived, for he wanted to come and see his mother and the place where his brother used to sit.
Aladdin showed him the way, and the sorcerer, loading him with caresses, left him and went into the house. Aladdin’s mother, who had prepared a supper against his coming, received him with a great deal of joy, making him sit down in the place where her husband used to sit. The sorcerer would not sit there but chose another seat, saying that he would keep the other to look at and talk to, as it was the place where his dear brother used to sit.
“Madam,” said he to Aladdin’s mother, “do not be surprised that I have been so long unknown to you. I have been abroad these forty years and more in India, Persia, Arabia, Syria, Egypt, and in all the countries of Africa, and it was but a few days ago that I returned to this city, where I was born, hoping to find my brother still alive, that I might once more embrace him and end my days with him; but when I inquired about him, I learned that he had been dead some time. I cannot express to you how much I am affected by this loss.”
Then, seeing Aladdin’s mother in tears at the remembrance of her husband, he changed the subject and turned to Aladdin, asking him his name. “My name is Aladdin,” replied the boy. “And what business do you follow, Aladdin?” asked the sorcerer. At this question, Aladdin hung his head and looked confused. His mother replied for him:
“Aladdin is an idle boy. His father, while he lived, took all imaginable pains to teach him his trade, but could not succeed. Since his death, though I have used a thousand persuasions and threats to induce him to apply, I have not been able to make him mind his business. He passes his time rambling the streets with his idle companions and depends on me for his subsistence, though I earn but little myself by spinning.”
“This is very wrong, son,” said the pretended uncle. “Industry is necessary, and there are many ways of getting a livelihood. If you do not like your father’s trade, you may choose another, and I will take care to find you a master. There are different trades—you may choose the one you like best, and I will pay your master’s fees and buy you tools. Only tell me what you would like to be, and depend on me for the rest.”
Aladdin, seeing that the sorcerer was so generous, thought he might as well take advantage of his kindness and told him he had a great inclination to turn peddler. “Be it so,” said the sorcerer. “I will provide you with a stock of fine goods tomorrow, and the day after, you may set up a stall in the public market and trade like the rest.”
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