He presently fell down and kissed the place where Mustapha used to sit, bidding Aladdin’s mother not to be surprised at not having seen him before, as he had been forty years out of the country.
“Indeed, child,” she said, “your father had a brother, but I always thought he was dead.” However, she prepared supper, and bade Aladdin seek his uncle, who came laden with wine and fruit. Go to your mother and tell her I am coming.” Aladdin ran home and told his mother of his newly found uncle. “I am, sir,” replied Aladdin “but he died a long while ago.” On this the stranger, who was a famous African magician, fell on his neck and kissed him, saying, “I am your uncle, and knew you from your likeness to my brother. One day, when he was playing in the streets as usual, a stranger asked him his age, and if he was not the son of Mustapha the tailor. This so grieved the father that he died yet, in spite of his mother’s tears and prayers, Aladdin did not mend his ways. There once lived a poor tailor, who had a son called Aladdin, a careless, idle boy who would do nothing but play ball all day long in the streets with little idle boys like himself. You should visit Browse Happy and update your internet browser today! The embedded audio player requires a modern internet browser.
