Quoth Dunyazad, “O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales,” whereupon Shahrazad replied, “With love and good will.”——It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the Maghrabi, the Magician, said to the tailor’s orphan, “O my son Alaeddin, and I have now failed in the mourning ceremonies and have lost the delight I expected from meeting thy father, my brother, whom after my long banishment I had hoped to see once more ere I die; but far distance wrought me this trouble nor hath the creature aught of asylum from the Creator or artifice against the commandments of Allah Almighty.” Then he again clasped Alaeddin to his bosom crying, “O my son, I have none to condole with now save thyself; and thou standest in stead of thy sire, thou being his issue and representative and ‘whoso leaveth issue dieth not,’[72] O my child!” So saying, the Magician put hand to purse and pulling out ten gold pieces gave them to the lad asking, “O my son, where is your house and where dwelleth she, thy mother, and my brother’s widow?” Presently Alaeddin arose with him and showed him the way to their home and meanwhile quoth the Wizard, “O my son, take these moneys and give them to thy mother, greeting her from me, and let her know that thine uncle, thy father’s brother, hath reappeared from his exile and that Inshallah—God willing—on the morrow I will visit her to salute her with the salam and see the house wherein my brother was homed and look upon the place where he lieth buried.” Thereupon Alaeddin kissed the Maghrabi’s hand, and, after running in his joy at fullest speed to his mother’s dwelling, entered to her clean contrariwise to his custom, inasmuch as he never came near her save at meal-times only. And when he found her, the lad exclaimed in his delight, “O my mother, I give thee glad tidings of mine uncle who hath returned from his exile and who now sendeth me to salute thee.” “O my son,” she replied, “meseemeth thou mockest me! Who is this uncle and how canst thou have an uncle in the bonds of life?” He rejoined, “How sayest thou, O my mother, that I have nor living uncles nor kinsmen, when this man is my father’s own brother? Indeed he embraced me and bussed me, shedding tears the while, and bade me acquaint thee herewith.” She retorted, “O my son, well I wot thou haddest an uncle, but he is now dead nor am I ware that thou hast other eme.”——And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say. Now when it was the Five Hundred and Seventeenth Night,