The Junior Classics, Volume 5: Stories that never grow old — John Shaqi
The Junior Classics, Volume 5: Stories that never grow old
General
The Junior Classics, Volume 5: Stories that never grow old
Children's literature
His son, who was called Aladdin, was a very careless and idle
fellow. He was disobedient to his father and mother, and would go
out early in the morning and stay out all day, playing in the
streets and public places with idle children of his own age.
When he was old enough to learn a trade, his father took him into
his own shop, and taught him how to use his needle; but all his
father's endeavors to keep him to his work were vain, for no
sooner was his back turned than he was gone for that day. Mustapha
chastised him; but Aladdin was incorrigible, and his father, to
his great grief, was forced to abandon him to his idleness, and
was so much troubled about him that he fell sick and died in a few
months.
Aladdin, who was now no longer restrained by the fear of a father,
gave himself entirely over to his idle habits, and was never out
of the streets from his companions. This course he followed till
he was fifteen years old, without giving his mind to any useful
pursuit, or the least reflection on what would become of him. As
he was one day playing, according to custom, in the street with
his evil associates, a stranger passing by stood to observe him.
This stranger was a sorcerer, known as the African magician, as he
had been but two days arrived from Africa, his native country.
The African magician, observing in Aladdin's countenance something
which assured him that he was a fit boy for his purpose, inquired
his name and history of some of his companions; and when he had
learned all he desired to know, went up to him, and taking him
aside from his comrades, said, "Child, was not your father called
Mustapha the tailor?" "Yes, sir," answered the boy; "but he has
been dead a long time."
At these words the African magician threw his arms about Aladdin's
neck, and kissed him several times, with tears in his eyes, and
said, "I am your uncle. Your worthy father was my own brother. I
knew you at first sight; you are so like him." Then he gave
Aladdin a handful of small money, saying, "Go, my son, to your
mother, give my love to her, and tell her that I will visit her
to-morrow, that I may see where my good brother lived so long, and
ended his days."
Aladdin ran to his mother, overjoyed at the money his uncle had
given him. "Mother," said he, "have I an uncle?" "No, child,"
replied his mother, "you have no uncle by your father's side or
mine." "I am just now come," said Aladdin, "from a man who says he
is my uncle and my father's brother. He cried and kissed me when I
told him my father was dead, and gave me money, sending his love
to you, and promising to come and pay you a visit, that he may see
the house my father lived and died in." "Indeed, child," replied
the mother, "your father had no brother, nor have you an uncle."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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