This time the money seemed so endless that the old woman built herself a new house, and filled it with the most beautiful things that were to be found in the shops. Her daughters were always wrapped in veils that looked as if they were woven out of sunbeams, and their dresses shone with precious stones. The neighbours wondered where all this sudden wealth had sprung from, but nobody knew about the head. “Good mother,” said the head, one day, “this morning you are to go to the city and ask the sultan to give me his daughter for my bride.” “Do what?” asked the old woman in amazement. “How can I tell the sultan that a head without a body wishes to become his son-in-law? They will think that I am mad, and I shall be hooted from the palace and stoned by the children.” “Do as I bid you,” replied the head; “it is my will.” The old woman was afraid to say anything more, and, putting on her richest clothes, started for the palace. The sultan granted her an audience at once, and, in a trembling voice, she made her request. “Are you mad, old woman?” said the sultan, staring at her. “The wooer is powerful, O Sultan, and nothing is impossible to him.” “Is that true?” “It is, O Sultan; I swear it,” answered she. “Then let him show his power by doing three things, and I will give him my daughter.” “Command, O gracious prince,” said she. “Do you see that hill in front of the palace?” asked the sultan. “I see it,” answered she. “Well, in forty days the man who has sent you must make that hill vanish, and plant a beautiful garden in its place. That is the first thing. Now go, and tell him what I say.” So the old woman returned and told the head the sultan’s first condition. “It is well,” he replied; and said no more about it. For thirty-nine days the head remained in its favourite corner. The old woman thought that the task set before was beyond his powers, and that no more would be heard about the sultan’s daughter. But on the thirty-ninth evening after her visit to the palace, the head suddenly spoke. “Good mother,” he said, “you must go to-night to the bridge, and when you are there cry ‘Ali! Ali! Ali!’ as loud as you can. A negro will appear before you, and you will tell him that he is to level the hill, and to make, in its place, the most beautiful garden that ever was seen.” “I will go at once,” answered she. It did not take her long to reach the bridge which led to the city, and she took up her position on the spot where she had first seen the head, and called loudly “Ali! Ali! Ali.” In an instant a negro appeared before her, of such a huge size that the old woman was half frightened; but his voice was mild and gentle as he said: “What is it that you want?” “Your master bids you level the hill that stands in front of the sultan’s palace and in its place to make the most beautiful garden in the world.”