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THE ARABIAN NIGHTS

"When the breeze of a joyful dawn blew free
In the silken sail of infancy,
The tide of time flow'd back with me,
The forward-flowing time of time;
And many a sheeny summer morn,
Adown the Tigris I was borne,
By Bagdat's shrines of fretted gold,
High-walled gardens green and old;
True Mussulman was I and sworn,
For it was in the golden prime
Of good Haroun Alraschid.

"Anight my shallop, rustling thro'
The low and bloomèd foliage, drove
The fragrant, glistening deeps, and clove
The citron-shadows in the blue:
By garden porches on the brim,
The costly doors flung open wide,
Gold glittering thro' lamplight dim,
And broider'd sofas on each side:
In sooth it was a goodly time,
For it was in the golden prime
Of good Haroun Alraschid."

Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

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THE TALKING BIRD, THE SINGING TREE, AND THE GOLDEN WATER

There was an emperor of Persia named Kosrouschah, who, when he first came to his crown, in order to obtain a knowledge of affairs, took great pleasure in night excursions, attended by a trusty minister. He often walked in disguise through the city, and met with many adventures, one of the most remarkable of which happened to him upon his first ramble, which was not long after his accession to the throne of his father.

After the ceremonies of his father's funeral rites and his own inauguration were over, the new sultan, as well from inclination as from duty, went out one evening attended by his grand vizier, disguised like himself, to observe what was transacting in the city. As he was passing through a street in that part of the town inhabited only by the meaner sort, he heard some people talking very loud; and going close to the house whence the noise proceeded, and looking through a crack in the door, perceived a light, and three sisters sitting on a sofa, conversing together after supper. By what the eldest said he presently understood the subject of their conversation was wishes: "for," said she, "since we are talking about wishes, mine shall be to have the sultan's baker for my husband, for then I shall eat my fill of that bread, which by way of excellence is called the sultan's; let us see if your tastes are as good as mine." "For my part," replied the second sister, "I wish I was wife to the sultan's chief cook, for then I should eat of the most excellent dishes; and as I am persuaded that the sultan's bread is common in the palace, I should not want any of that; therefore you see," addressing herself to her eldest sister, "that I have a better taste than you." The youngest sister, who was very beautiful, and had more charms and wit than the two elder, spoke in her turn: "For my part, sisters," said she, "I shall not limit my desires to such trifles, but take a higher flight; and since we are upon wishing, I wish to be the emperor's queen-consort. I would make him father of a prince, whose hair should be gold on one side of his head, and silver on the other; when he cried, the tears from his eyes should be pearls; and when he smiled, his vermilion lips should look like a rosebud fresh-blown."

The three sisters' wishes, particularly that of the youngest, seemed so singular to the sultan, that he resolved to gratify them in their desires; but without communicating his design to his grand vizier, he charged him only to take notice of the house, and bring the three sisters before him the following day.

The grand vizier, in executing the emperor's orders, would but just give the sisters time to dress themselves to appear before his majesty, without telling them the reason. He brought them to the palace, and presented them to the emperor, who said to them, "Do you remember the wishes you expressed last night, when you were all in so pleasant a mood? Speak the truth; I must know what they were." At these unexpected words of the emperor, the three sisters were much confounded. They cast down their eyes and blushed, and the colour which rose in the cheeks of the youngest quite captivated the emperor's heart. Modesty, and fear lest they might have offended by their conversation, kept them silent. The emperor, perceiving their confusion, said to encourage them, "Fear nothing, I did not send for you to distress you; and since I see that without my intending it, this is the effect of the question I asked, as I know the wish of each, I will relieve you from your fears. You," added he, "who wished to be my wife, shall have your desire this day; and you," continued he, addressing himself to the two elder sisters, "shall also be married to my chief baker and cook."

As soon as the sultan had declared his pleasure, the youngest sister, setting her elders an example, threw herself at the emperor's feet to express her gratitude. "Sir," said she, "my wish, since it is come to your majesty's knowledge, was expressed only in the way of conversation and amusement. I am unworthy of the honour you do me, and supplicate your pardon for my presumption." The other two sisters would have excused themselves also, but the emperor, interrupting them, said, "No, no; it shall be as I have declared; the wishes of all shall be fulfilled." The nuptials were all celebrated that day, as the emperor had resolved, but in a different manner. The youngest sister's were solemnized with all the rejoicings usual at the marriages of the emperors of Persia; and those of the other two sisters according to the quality and distinction of their husbands; the one as the sultan's chief baker, and the other as head cook.

The two elder felt strongly the disproportion of their marriages to that of their younger sister. This consideration made them far from being content, though they were arrived at the utmost height of their late wishes, and much beyond their hopes. They gave themselves up to an excess of jealousy, which not only disturbed their joy, but was the cause of great trouble and affliction to the queen-consort, their younger sister. They had not an opportunity to communicate their thoughts to each other on the preference the emperor had given her, but were altogether employed in preparing themselves for the celebration of their marriages. Some days afterward, when they had an opportunity of seeing each other at the public baths, the eldest said to the other: "Well, what say you to our sister's great fortune? Is not she a fine person to be a queen!" "I must own," said the other sister, "I cannot conceive what charms the emperor could discover to be so bewitched by her. Was it a reason sufficient for him not to cast his eyes on you, because she was somewhat younger? You were as worthy of his throne, and in justice he ought to have preferred you."

"Sister," said the elder, "I should not have regretted if his majesty had but pitched upon you; but that he should choose that little simpleton really grieves me. But I will revenge myself; and you, I think, are as much concerned as I; therefore, I propose that we should contrive measures and act in concert: communicate to me what you think the likeliest way to mortify her, while I, on my side, will inform you what my desire of revenge shall suggest to me." After this wicked agreement, the two sisters saw each other frequently, and consulted how they might disturb and interrupt the happiness of the queen. They proposed a great many ways, but in deliberating about the manner of executing them, found so many difficulties that they durst not attempt them. In the meantime, with a detestable dissimulation, they often went together to make her visits, and every time showed her all the marks of affection they could devise, to persuade her how overjoyed they were to have a sister raised to so high a fortune. The queen, on her part, constantly received them with all the demonstrations of esteem they could expect from so near a relative. Some time after her marriage, the expected birth of an heir gave great joy to the queen and emperor, which was communicated to all the court, and spread throughout the empire. Upon this news the two sisters came to pay their compliments, and proffered their services, desiring her, if not provided with nurses, to accept of them.

The queen said to them most obligingly: "Sisters, I should desire nothing more, if it were in my power to make the choice. I am, however, obliged to you for your goodwill, but must submit to what the emperor shall order on this occasion. Let your husbands employ their friends to make interest, and get some courtier to ask this favour of his majesty, and if he speaks to me about it, be assured that I shall not only express the pleasure he does me but thank him for making choice of you."

The two husbands applied themselves to some courtiers, their patrons, and begged of them to use their interest to procure their wives the honour they aspired to. Those patrons exerted themselves so much in their behalf that the emperor promised them to consider of the matter, and was as good as his word; for in conversation with the queen he told her that he thought her sisters were the most proper persons to be about her, but would not name them before he had asked her consent. The queen, sensible of the deference the emperor so obligingly paid her, said to him, "Sir, I was prepared to do as your majesty might please to command. But since you have been so kind as to think of my sisters, I thank you for the regard you have shown them for my sake, and therefore I shall not dissemble that I had rather have them than strangers." The emperor therefore named the queen's two sisters to be her attendants; and from that time they went frequently to the palace, overjoyed at the opportunity they would have of executing the detestable wickedness they had meditated against the queen.

Shortly afterward a young prince, as bright as the day, was born to the queen; but neither his innocence nor beauty could move the cruel hearts of the merciless sisters. They wrapped him up carelessly in his cloths and put him into a basket, which they abandoned to the stream of a small canal that ran under the queen's apartment, and declared that she had given birth to a puppy. This dreadful intelligence was announced to the emperor, who became so angry at the circumstance, that he was likely to have occasioned the queen's death, if his grand vizier had not represented to him that he could not, without injustice, make her answerable for the misfortune.

In the meantime, the basket in which the little prince was exposed was carried by the stream beyond a wall which bounded the prospect of the queen's apartment, and from thence floated with the current down the gardens. By chance the intendant of the emperor's gardens, one of the principal officers of the kingdom, was walking in the garden by the side of this canal, and, perceiving a basket floating, called to a gardener who was not far off, to bring it to shore that he might see what it contained. The gardener, with a rake which he had in his hand, drew the basket to the side of the canal, took it up, and gave it to him. The intendant of the gardens was extremely surprised to see in the basket a child, which, though he knew it could be but just born, had very fine features. This officer had been married several years, but though he had always been desirous of having children, Heaven had never blessed him with any. This accident interrupted his walk: he made the gardener follow him with the child, and when he came to his own house, which was situated at the entrance to the gardens of the palace, went into his wife's apartment. "Wife," said he, "as we have no children of our own, God has sent us one. I recommend him to you; provide him a nurse, and take as much care of him as if he were our own son; for, from this moment, I acknowledge him as such." The intendant's wife received the child with great joy, and took particular pleasure in the care of him. The intendant himself would not inquire too narrowly whence the infant came. He saw plainly it came not far off from the queen's apartment, but it was not his business to examine too closely into what had passed, nor to create disturbances in a place where peace was so necessary.

The following year another prince was born, on whom the unnatural sisters had no more compassion than on his brother, but exposed him likewise in a basket and set him adrift in the canal, pretending, this time, that the sultana had given birth to a cat. It was happy also for this child that the intendant of the gardens was walking by the canal side, for he had it carried to his wife, and charged her to take as much care of it as of the former, which was as agreeable to her inclination as it was to his own.

The emperor of Persia was more enraged this time against the queen than before, and she had felt the effects of his anger if the grand vizier's remonstrances had not prevailed. The third year the queen gave birth to a princess, which innocent babe underwent the same fate as her brothers, for the two sisters, being determined not to desist from their detestable schemes till they had seen the queen cast off and humbled, claimed that a log of wood had been born and exposed this infant also on the canal. But the princess, as well as her brothers, was preserved from death by the compassion and charity of the intendant of the gardens.

Kosrouschah could no longer contain himself, when he was informed of the new misfortune. He pronounced sentence of death upon the wretched queen and ordered the grand vizier to see it executed.

The grand vizier and the courtiers who were present cast themselves at the emperor's feet, to beg of him to revoke the sentence. "Your majesty, I hope, will give me leave," said the grand vizier, "to represent to you, that the laws which condemn persons to death were made to punish crimes; the three extraordinary misfortunes of the queen are not crimes, for in what can she be said to have contributed toward them? Your majesty may abstain from seeing her, but let her live. The affliction in which she will spend the rest of her life, after the loss of your favour, will be a punishment sufficiently distressing."

The emperor of Persia considered with himself, and, reflecting that it was unjust to condemn the queen to death for what had happened, said: "Let her live then; I will spare her life, but it shall be on this condition: that she shall desire to die more than once every day. Let a wooden shed be built for her at the gate of the principal mosque, with iron bars to the windows, and let her be put into it, in the coarsest habit; and every Mussulman that shall go into the mosque to prayers shall heap scorn upon her. If any one fail, I will have him exposed to the same punishment; and that I may be punctually obeyed, I charge you, vizier, to appoint persons to see this done." The emperor pronounced his sentence in such a tone that the grand vizier durst not further remonstrate; and it was executed, to the great satisfaction of the two envious sisters. A shed was built, and the queen, truly worthy of compassion, was put into it and exposed ignominiously to the contempt of the people, which usage she bore with a patient resignation that excited the compassion of those who were discriminating and judged of things better than the vulgar.

The two princes and the princess were, in the meantime, nursed and brought up by the intendant of the gardens and his wife with the tenderness of a father and mother; and as they advanced in age, they all showed marks of superior dignity, which discovered itself every day by a certain air which could only belong to exalted birth. All this increased the affections of the intendant and his wife, who called the eldest prince Bahman, and the second Perviz, both of them names of the most ancient emperors of Persia, and the princess, Periezade, which name also had been borne by several queens and princesses of the kingdom.

As soon as the two princes were old enough, the intendant provided proper masters to teach them to read and write; and the princess, their sister, who was often with them, showing a great desire to learn, the intendant, pleased with her quickness, employed the same master to teach her also. Her vivacity and piercing wit made her, in a little time, as great a proficient as her brothers. From that time the brothers and sister had the same masters in geography, poetry, history, and even the secret sciences, and made so wonderful a progress that their tutors were amazed, and frankly owned that they could teach them nothing more. At the hours of recreation, the princess learned to sing and play upon all sorts of instruments; and when the princes were learning to ride she would not permit them to have that advantage over her, but went through all the exercises with them, learning to ride also, to bend the bow, and dart the reed or javelin, and oftentimes outdid them in the race and other contests of agility.

The intendant of the gardens was so overjoyed to find his adopted children so accomplished in all the perfections of body and mind, and that they so well requited the expense he had been at in their education, that he resolved to be at a still greater; for, as he had until then been content simply with his lodge at the entrance of the garden, and kept no country-house, he purchased a mansion at a short distance from the city, surrounded by a large tract of arable land, meadows, and woods. As the house was not sufficiently handsome nor convenient, he pulled it down, and spared no expense in building a more magnificent residence. He went every day to hasten, by his presence, the great number of workmen he employed, and as soon as there was an apartment ready to receive him, passed several days together there when his presence was not necessary at court; and by the same exertions, the interior was furnished in the richest manner, in consonance with the magnificence of the edifice. Afterward he made gardens, according to a plan drawn by himself. He took in a large extent of ground, which he walled around, and stocked with fallow deer, that the princes and princess might divert themselves with hunting when they chose.

When this country seat was finished and fit for habitation, the intendant of the gardens went and cast himself at the emperor's feet, and, after representing how long he had served, and the infirmities of age which he found growing upon him, begged that he might be permitted to resign his charge into his majesty's disposal and retire. The emperor gave him leave, with the more pleasure, because he was satisfied with his long services, both in his father's reign and his own, and when he granted it, asked what he should do to recompense him. "Sir," replied the intendant of the gardens, "I have received so many obligations from your majesty and the late emperor, your father, of happy memory, that I desire no more than the honour of dying in your favour." He took his leave of the emperor and retired with the two princes and the princess to the country retreat he had built. His wife had been dead some years, and he himself had not lived above six months with his charges before he was surprised by so sudden a death that he had not time to give them the least account of the manner in which he had discovered them. The Princes Bahman and Perviz, and the Princess Periezade, who knew no other father than the intendant of the emperor's gardens, regretted and bewailed him as such, and paid all the honours in his funeral obsequies which love and filial gratitude required of them. Satisfied with the plentiful fortune he had left them, they lived together in perfect union, free from the ambition of distinguishing themselves at court, or aspiring to places of honour and dignity, which they might easily have obtained.

One day when the two princes were hunting, and the princess had remained at home, a religious old woman came to the gate, and desired leave to go in to say her prayers, it being then the hour. The servants asked the princess's permission, who ordered them to show her into the oratory, which the intendant of the emperor's gardens had taken care to fit up in his house, for want of a mosque in the neighbourhood. She bade them, also, after the good woman had finished her prayers, to show her the house and gardens and then bring her to the hall.

The old woman went into the oratory, said her prayers, and when she came out two of the princess's women invited her to see the residence, which civility she accepted, followed them from one apartment to another, and observed, like a person who understood what belonged to furniture, the nice arrangement of everything. They conducted her also into the garden, the disposition of which she found so well planned, that she admired it, observing that the person who had formed it must have been an excellent master of his art. Afterward she was brought before the princess, who waited for her in the great hall, which in beauty and richness exceeded all that she had admired in the other apartments.

As soon as the princess saw the devout woman, she said to her: "My good mother, come near and sit down by me. I am overjoyed at the happiness of having the opportunity of profiting for some moments by the example and conversation of such a person as you, who have taken the right way by dedicating yourself to the service of God. I wish every one were as wise."

The devout woman, instead of sitting on a sofa, would only sit upon the edge of one. The princess would not permit her to do so, but rising from her seat and taking her by the hand, obliged her to come and sit by her. The good woman, sensible of the civility, said: "Madam, I ought not to have so much respect shown me; but since you command, and are mistress of your own house, I will obey you." When she had seated herself, before they entered into any conversation, one of the princess's women brought a low stand of mother-of-pearl and ebony, with a china dish full of cakes upon it, and many others set round it full of fruits in season, and wet and dry sweetmeats.

The princess took up one of the cakes, and presenting her with it, said: "Eat, good mother, and make choice of what you like best; you had need to eat after coming so far." "Madam," replied the good woman, "I am not used to eat such delicacies, but will not refuse what God has sent me by so liberal a hand as yours."

While the devout woman was eating, the princess ate a little too, to bear her company, and asked her many questions upon the exercise of devotion which she practised and how she lived; all of which she answered with great modesty. Talking of various things, at last the princess asked her what she thought of the house, and how she liked it.

"Madam," answered the devout woman, "I must certainly have very bad taste to disapprove anything in it, since it is beautiful, regular, and magnificently furnished with exactness and judgment, and all its ornaments adjusted in the best manner. Its situation is an agreeable spot, and no garden can be more delightful; but yet, if you will give me leave to speak my mind freely, I will take the liberty to tell you that this house would be incomparable if it had three things which are wanting to complete it." "My good mother," replied the Princess Periezade, "what are those? I entreat you to tell me what they are; I will spare nothing to get them."

"Madam," replied the devout woman, "the first of these three things is the Talking Bird, so singular a creature, that it draws round it all the songsters of the neighbourhood which come to accompany its voice. The second is the Singing Tree, the leaves of which are so many mouths which form an harmonious concert of different voices and never cease. The third is the Golden Water, a single drop of which being poured into a vessel properly prepared, it increases so as to fill it immediately, and rises up in the middle like a fountain, which continually plays, and yet the basin never overflows."

"Ah! my good mother," cried the princess, "how much am I obliged to you for the knowledge of these curiosities! I never before heard there were such rarities in the world; but as I am persuaded that you know, I expect that you should do me the favour to inform me where they are to be found."

"Madam," replied the good woman, "I should be unworthy the hospitality you have shown me if I should refuse to satisfy your curiosity on that point, and am glad to have the honour to tell you that these curiosities are all to be met with in the same spot on the confines of this kingdom, toward India. The road lies before your house, and whoever you send needs but follow it for twenty days, and on the twentieth only let him ask the first person he meets where the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree, and the Golden Water are, and he will be informed." After saying this, she rose from her seat, took her leave, and went her way.

The Princess Periezade's thoughts were so taken up with the Talking Bird, Singing Tree, and Golden Water, that she never perceived the devout woman's departure, till she wanted to ask her some question for her better information; for she thought that what she had been told was not a sufficient reason for exposing herself by undertaking a long journey. However, she would not send after her visitor, but endeavoured to remember all the directions, and when she thought she had recollected every word, took real pleasure in thinking of the satisfaction she should have if she could get these curiosities into her possession; but the difficulties she apprehended and the fear of not succeeding made her very uneasy.

She was absorbed in these thoughts when her brothers returned from hunting, who, when they entered the great hall, instead of finding her lively and gay, as she was wont to be, were amazed to see her so pensive and hanging down her head as if something troubled her.

"Sister," said Prince Bahman, "what is become of all your mirth and gaiety? Are you not well? or has some misfortune befallen you? Tell us, that we may know how to act, and give you some relief. If any one has affronted you, we will resent his insolence."

The princess remained in the same posture some time without answering, but at last lifted up her eyes to look at her brothers, and then held them down again, telling them nothing disturbed her.

"Sister," said Prince Bahman, "you conceal the truth from us; there must be something of consequence. It is impossible we could observe so sudden a change if nothing was the matter with you. You would not have us satisfied with the evasive answer you have given; do not conceal anything, unless you would have us suspect that you renounce the strict union which has hitherto subsisted between us."

The princess, who had not the smallest intention to offend her brothers, would not suffer them to entertain such a thought, but said: "When I told you nothing disturbed me, I meant nothing that was of importance to you, but to me it is of some consequence; and since you press me to tell you by our strict union and friendship, which are so dear to me, I will. You think, and I always believed so too, that this house was so complete that nothing was wanting. But this day I have learned that it lacks three rarities which would render it so perfect that no country seat in the world could be compared with it. These three things are the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree, and the Golden Water." After she had informed them wherein consisted the excellency of these rarities, "A devout woman," added she, "has made this discovery to me, told me the place where they are to be found, and the way thither. Perhaps you may imagine these things of little consequence; that without these additions our house will always be thought sufficiently elegant, and that we can do without them. You may think as you please, but I cannot help telling you that I am persuaded they are absolutely necessary, and I shall not be easy without them. Therefore, whether you value them or not, I desire you to consider what person you may think proper for me to send in search of the curiosities I have mentioned."

"Sister," replied Prince Bahman, "nothing can concern you in which we have not an equal interest. It is enough that you desire these things to oblige us to take the same interest; but if you had not, we feel ourselves inclined of our own accord and for our own individual satisfaction. I am persuaded my brother is of the same opinion, and therefore we ought to undertake this conquest, for the importance and singularity of the undertaking deserve that name. I will take the charge upon myself; only tell me the place and the way to it, and I will defer my journey no longer than till to-morrow."

"Brother," said Prince Perviz, "it is not proper that you, who are the head of our family, should be absent. I desire my sister should join with me to oblige you to abandon your design, and allow me to undertake it. I hope to acquit myself as well as you, and it will be a more regular proceeding." "I am persuaded of your goodwill, brother," replied Prince Bahman, "and that you would succeed as well as myself in this journey; but I have resolved and will undertake it. You shall stay at home with our sister, and I need not recommend her to you."

The next morning Bahman mounted his horse, and Perviz and the princess embraced and wished him a good journey. But in the midst of their adieus, the princess recollected what she had not thought of before. "Brother," said she, "I had quite forgotten the accidents which attend travellers. Who knows whether I shall ever see you again? Alight, I beseech you, and give up this journey. I would rather be deprived of the sight and possession of the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree, and the Golden Water, than run the risk of never seeing you more."

"Sister," replied Bahman, smiling at her sudden fears, "my resolution is fixed. The accidents you speak of befall only those who are unfortunate; but there are more who are not so. However, as events are uncertain, and I may fail in this undertaking, all I can do is to leave you this knife."

Bahman pulling a knife from his vestband, and presenting it to the princess in the sheath, said: "Take this knife, sister, and give yourself the trouble sometimes to pull it out of the sheath; while you see it clean as it is now, it will be a sign that I am alive; but if you find it stained with blood, then you may believe me dead and indulge me with your prayers."

The princess could obtain nothing more of Bahman. He bade adieu to her and Prince Perviz for the last time and rode away. When he got into the road, he never turned to the right hand nor to the left, but went directly forward toward India. The twentieth day he perceived on the roadside a hideous old man, who sat under a tree near a thatched house, which was his retreat from the weather.

His eyebrows were as white as snow, as was also the hair of his head; his whiskers covered his mouth, and his beard and hair reached down to his feet. The nails of his hands and feet were grown to an extensive length, while a flat, broad umbrella covered his head. He had no clothes, but only a mat thrown round his body. This old man was a dervish for so many years retired from the world to give himself up entirely to the service of God that at last he had become what we have described.

Prince Bahman, who had been all that morning very attentive, to see if he could meet with anybody who could give him information of the place he was in search of, stopped when he came near the dervish, alighted, in conformity to the directions which the devout woman had given the Princess Periezade, and leading his horse by the bridle, advanced toward him and saluting him, said: "God prolong your days, good father, and grant you the accomplishment of your desires."

The dervish returned the prince's salutation, but so unintelligibly that he could not understand one word he said and Prince Bahman, perceiving that this difficulty proceeded from the dervish's whiskers hanging over his mouth, and unwilling to go any further without the instructions he wanted, pulled out a pair of scissors he had about him, and having tied his horse to a branch of the tree, said: "Good dervish, I want to have some talk with you, but your whiskers prevent my understanding what you say; and if you will consent, I will cut off some part of them and of your eyebrows, which disfigure you so much that you look more like a bear than a man."

The dervish did not oppose the offer, and when the prince had cut off as much hair as he thought fit, he perceived that the dervish had a good complexion, and that he was not as old as he seemed. "Good dervish," said he, "if I had a glass I would show you how young you look: you are now a man, but before, nobody could tell what you were."

The kind behaviour of Prince Bahman made the dervish smile and return his compliment. "Sir," said he, "whoever you are, I am obliged by the good office you have performed, and am ready to show my gratitude by doing anything in my power for you. You must have alighted here upon some account or other. Tell me what it is, and I will endeavour to serve you."

"Good dervish," replied Prince Bahman, "I am in search of the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree, and the Golden Water; I know these three rarities are not far from hence, but cannot tell exactly the place where they are to be found; if you know, I conjure you to show me the way, that I may not lose my labour after so long a journey."

The prince, while he spoke, observed that the dervish changed countenance, held down his eyes, looked very serious, and remained silent, which obliged him to say to him again: "Good father, tell me whether you know what I ask you, that I may not lose my time, but inform myself somewhere else."

At last the dervish broke silence. "Sir," said he to Prince Bahman, "I know the way you ask of me; but the regard which I conceived for you the first moment I saw you, and which is grown stronger by the service you have done me, kept me in suspense as to whether I should give you the satisfaction you desire." "What motive can hinder you?" replied the prince; "and what difficulties do you find in so doing?" "I will tell you," replied the dervish; "the danger to which you are going to expose yourself is greater than you may suppose. A number of gentlemen of as much bravery as you can possibly possess have passed this way, and asked me the same question. When I had used all my endeavours to persuade them to desist, they would not believe me; at last I yielded to their importunities; I was compelled to show them the way, and I can assure you they have all perished, for I have not seen one come back. Therefore, if you have any regard for your life, take my advice, go no farther, but return home."

Prince Bahman persisted in his resolution. "I will not suppose," said he to the dervish, "but that your advice is sincere. I am obliged to you for the friendship you express for me; but whatever may be the danger, nothing shall make me change my intention: whoever attacks me, I am well armed, and can say I am as brave as any one." "But they who will attack you are not to be seen," replied the dervish; "how will you defend yourself against invisible persons?" "It is no matter," answered the prince, "all you say shall not persuade me to do anything contrary to my duty. Since you know the way, I conjure you once more to inform me."

When the dervish found he could not prevail upon Prince Bahman, and that he was obstinately bent to pursue his journey, notwithstanding his friendly remonstrance, he put his hand into a bag that lay by him and pulled out a bowl, which he presented to him. "Since I cannot prevail on you to attend to my advice," said he, "take this bowl and when you are on horseback throw it before you, and follow it to the foot of a mountain, where it will stop. As soon as the bowl stops, alight, leave your horse with the bridle over his neck, and he will stand in the same place till you return. As you ascend you will see on your right and left a great number of large black stones, and will hear on all sides a confusion of voices, which will utter a thousand abuses to discourage you, and prevent your reaching the summit of the mountain. Be not afraid; but, above all things, do not turn your head to look behind you, for in that instant you will be changed into such a black stone as those you see, which are all youths who have failed in this enterprise. If you escape the danger of which I give you but a faint idea, and get to the top of the mountain, you will see a cage, and in that cage is the bird you seek; ask him which are the Singing Tree and the Golden Water, and he will tell you. I have nothing more to say; this is what you have to do, and if you are prudent you will take my advice and not expose your life. Consider once more while you have time that the difficulties are almost insuperable."

"I am obliged to you for your advice," replied Prince Bahman, after he had received the bowl, "but cannot follow it. However, I will endeavour to conform myself to that part of it which bids me not to look behind me, and I hope to come and thank you when I have obtained what I am seeking." After these words, to which the dervish made no other answer than that he should be overjoyed to see him again, the prince mounted his horse, took leave of the dervish with a respectful salute, and threw the bowl before him.

The bowl rolled away with as much swiftness as when Prince Bahman first hurled it from his hand, which obliged him to put his horse to the same pace to avoid losing sight of it, and when it had reached the foot of the mountain it stopped. The prince alighted from his horse, laid the bridle on his neck, and having first surveyed the mountain and seen the black stones, began to ascend, but had not gone four steps before he heard the voices mentioned by the dervish, though he could see nobody. Some said: "Where is that fool going? Where is he going? What would he have? Do not let him pass." Others: "Stop him, catch him, kill him:" and others with a voice like thunder: "Thief! assassin! murderer!" while some in a gibing tone cried: "No, no, do not hurt him; let the pretty fellow pass, the cage and bird are kept for him."

Notwithstanding all these troublesome voices, Prince Bahman ascended with resolution for some time, but the voices redoubled with so loud a din, both behind and before, that at last he was seized with dread, his legs trembled under him, he staggered, and finding that his strength failed him, he forgot the dervish's advice, turned about to run down the hill, and was that instant changed into a black stone; a metamorphosis which had happened to many before him who had attempted the ascent. His horse, likewise, underwent the same change.

From the time of Prince Bahman's departure, the Princess Periezade always wore the knife and sheath in her girdle, and pulled it out several times in a day, to know whether her brother was alive. She had the consolation to understand he was in perfect health and to talk of him frequently with Prince Perviz. On the fatal day that Prince Bahman was transformed into a stone, as Prince Perviz and the princess were talking together in the evening, as usual, the prince desired his sister to pull out the knife to know how their brother did. The princess readily complied, and seeing the blood run down the point was seized with so much horror that she threw it down. "Ah! my dear brother," cried she, "I have been the cause of your death, and shall never see you more! Why did I tell you of the Talking Bird, Singing Tree, and Golden Water; or rather, of what importance was it to me to know whether the devout woman thought this house ugly or handsome, or complete or not? I wish to Heaven she had never addressed herself to me!"

Prince Perviz was as much afflicted at the death of Prince Bahman as the princess, but not to waste time in needless regret, as he knew that she still passionately desired possession of the marvellous treasures, he interrupted her, saying: "Sister, our regret for our brother is vain; our lamentations cannot restore him to life; it is the will of God; we must submit and adore the decrees of the Almighty without searching into them. Why should you now doubt of the truth of what the holy woman told you? Do you think she spoke to you of three things that were not in being, and that she invented them to deceive you who had received her with so much goodness and civility? Let us rather believe that our brother's death is owing to some error on his part, or some accident which we cannot conceive. It ought not therefore to prevent us from pursuing our object. I offered to go this journey, and am now more resolved than ever; his example has no effect upon my resolution; to-morrow I will depart."

The princess did all she could to dissuade Prince Perviz, conjuring him not to expose her to the danger of losing two brothers; but he was obstinate, and all the remonstrances she could urge had no effect upon him. Before he went, that she might know what success he had, he left her a string of a hundred pearls, telling her that if they would not run when she should count them upon the string, but remain fixed, that would be a certain sign he had undergone the same fate as his brother; but at the same time told her he hoped it would never happen, but that he should have the delight of seeing her again.

Prince Perviz, on the twentieth day after his departure, met the same dervish in the same place as his brother Bahman had done before him. He went directly up to him, and after he had saluted, asked him if he could tell him where to find the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree, and the Golden Water. The dervish urged the same remonstrances as he had done to Prince Bahman, telling him that a young gentleman, who very much resembled him, was with him a short time before; that, overcome by his importunity, he had shown him the way, given him a guide, and told him how he should act to succeed, but that he had not seen him since, and doubted not but he had shared the same fate as all other adventurers.

"Good dervish," answered Prince Perviz, "I know whom you speak of; he was my elder brother, and I am informed of the certainty of his death, but know not the cause." "I can tell you," replied the dervish; "he was changed into a black stone, as all I speak of have been; and you must expect the same transformation, unless you observe more exactly than he has done the advice I gave him, in case you persist in your resolution, which I once more entreat you to renounce."

"Dervish," said Prince Perviz, "I cannot sufficiently express how much I am obliged for the concern you take in my life, who am a stranger to you, and have done nothing to deserve your kindness; but I thoroughly considered this enterprise before I undertook it; therefore I beg of you to do me the same favour you have done my brother. Perhaps I may have better success in following your directions." "Since I cannot prevail with you," said the dervish, "to give up your obstinate resolution, if my age did not prevent me, and I could stand, I would get up to reach you a bowl I have here, which will show you the way."

Without giving the dervish time to say more, the prince alighted from his horse and went to the dervish, who had taken a bowl out of his bag, in which he had a great many, and gave it him, with the same directions he had given Prince Bahman; and after warning him not to be discouraged by the voices he should hear, however threatening they might be, but to continue his way up the hill till he saw the cage and bird, he let him depart.

Prince Perviz thanked the dervish, and when he had remounted and taken leave, threw the bowl before his horse, and spurring him at the same time, followed it. When the bowl came to the bottom of the hill it stopped, the prince alighted, and stood some time to recollect the dervish's directions. He encouraged himself, and began to walk up with a resolution to reach the summit; but before he had gone above six steps, he heard a voice, which seemed to be near, as of a man behind him, say in an insulting tone: "Stay, rash youth, that I may punish you for your presumption."

Upon this affront the prince, forgetting the dervish's advice, clapped his hand upon his sword, drew it, and turned about to revenge himself; but had scarcely time to see that nobody followed him before he and his horse were changed into black stones.

In the meantime the Princess Periezade, several times a day after her brother's departure, counted her chaplet. She did not omit it at night, but when she went to bed put it about her neck, and in the morning when she awoke counted over the pearls again to see if they would slide.

The day that Prince Perviz was transformed into a stone she was counting over the pearls as she used to do, when all at once they became immovably fixed, a certain token that the prince, her brother, was dead. As she had determined what to do in case it should so happen, she lost no time in outward demonstrations of grief, which she concealed as much as possible, but having disguised herself in man's apparel, she mounted her horse the next morning, armed and equipped, having told her servants she should return in two or three days, and took the same road that her brothers had done.

The princess, who had been used to ride on horseback in hunting, supported the fatigue of so long a journey better than most ladies could have done; and as she made the same stages as her brothers, she also met with the dervish on the twentieth day. When she came near him, she alighted from her horse, leading him by the bridle, went and sat down by the dervish, and after she had saluted him, said: "Good dervish, give me leave to rest myself; and do me the favour to tell me if you have not heard that there are somewhere in this neighbourhood a Talking Bird, a Singing Tree, and Golden Water."

"Princess," answered the dervish, "for so I must call you, since by your voice I know you to be a woman disguised in man's apparel, I know the place well where these things are to be found; but what makes you ask me this question?"

"Good dervish," replied the princess, "I have had such a flattering relation of them given me, that I have a great desire to possess them." "Madam," replied the dervish, "you have been told the truth. These curiosities are more singular than they have been represented, but you have not been made acquainted with the difficulties which must be surmounted in order to obtain them. If you had been fully informed of these, you would not have undertaken so dangerous an enterprise. Take my advice, return, and do not urge me to contribute toward your ruin."

"Good father," said the princess, "I have travelled a great way, and should be sorry to return without executing my design. You talk of difficulties and danger of life, but you do not tell me what those difficulties are, and wherein the danger consists. This is what I desire to know, that I may consider and judge whether I can trust my courage and strength to brave them."

The dervish repeated to the princess what he had said to the Princes Bahman and Perviz, exaggerating the difficulties of climbing up to the top of the mountain, where she was to make herself mistress of the Bird, which would inform her of the Singing Tree and Golden Water. He magnified the din of the terrible threatening voices which she would hear on all sides of her, and the great number of black stones alone sufficient to strike terror. He entreated her to reflect that those stones were so many brave gentlemen, so metamorphosed for having omitted to observe the principal condition of success in the perilous undertaking, which was not to look behind them before they had got possession of the cage.

When the dervish had done, the princess replied: "By what I comprehend from your discourse, the difficulties of succeeding in this affair are, first, the getting up to the cage without being frightened at the terrible din of voices I shall hear; and, secondly, not to look behind me. For this last, I hope I shall be mistress enough of myself to observe it; as to the first, I own that voices, such as you represent them to be, are capable of striking terror into the most undaunted; but as in all enterprises and dangers every one may use stratagem, I desire to know of you if I may use any in one of so great importance." "And what stratagem is it you would employ?" said the dervish. "To stop my ears with cotton," answered the princess, "that the voices, however terrible, may make the less impression upon my imagination, and my mind remain free from that disturbance which might cause me to lose the use of my reason."

"Princess," replied the dervish, "of all the persons who have addressed themselves to me for information, I do not know that ever one made use of the contrivance you propose. All I know is that they all perished. If you persist in your design, you may make the experiment. You will be fortunate if it succeeds, but I would advise you not to expose yourself to the danger."

"My good father," replied the princess, "I am sure my precaution will succeed, and am resolved to try the experiment. Nothing remains for me but to know which way I must go, and I conjure you not to deny me that information." The dervish exhorted her again to consider well what she was going to do; but finding her resolute, he took out a bowl, and presenting it to her, said: "Take this bowl, mount your horse again, and when you have thrown it before you, follow it through all its windings, till it stops at the bottom of the mountain; there alight and ascend the hill. Go, you know the rest."

After the princess had thanked the dervish, and taken her leave of him, she mounted her horse, threw the bowl before her, and followed it till it stopped at the foot of the mountain.

She then alighted, stopped her ears with cotton, and after she had well examined the path leading to the summit began with a moderate pace and walked up with intrepidity. She heard the voices and perceived the great service the cotton was to her. The higher she went, the louder and more numerous the voices seemed, but they were not capable of making any impression upon her. She heard a great many affronting speeches and raillery very disagreeable to a woman, which she only laughed at. "I mind not," said she to herself, "all that can be said, were it worse; I only laugh at them and shall pursue my way." At last, she climbed so high that she could perceive the cage and the Bird which endeavoured, in company with the voices, to frighten her, crying in a thundering tone, notwithstanding the smallness of its size: "Retire, fool, and approach no nearer."

The princess, encouraged by this sight, redoubled her speed, and by effort gained the summit of the mountain, where the ground was level; then running directly to the cage and clapping her hand upon it, cried: "Bird, I have you, and you shall not escape me."

While Periezade was pulling the cotton out of her ears the Bird said to her: "Heroic princess, be not angry with me for joining with those who exerted themselves to preserve my liberty. Though in a cage, I was content with my condition; but since I am destined to be a slave, I would rather be yours than any other person's, since you have obtained me so courageously. From this instant, I swear entire submission to all your commands. I know who you are. You do not; but the time will come when I shall do you essential service, for which I hope you will think yourself obliged to me. As a proof of my sincerity, tell me what you desire and I am ready to obey you."

The princess's joy was the more inexpressible, because the conquest she had made had cost her the lives of two beloved brothers, and given her more trouble and danger than she could have imagined. "Bird," said she, "it was my intention to have told you that I wish for many things which are of importance, but I am overjoyed that you have shown your goodwill and prevented me. I have been told that there is not far off a Golden Water, the property of which is very wonderful; before all things, I ask you to tell me where it is." The Bird showed her the place, which was just by, and she went and filled a little silver flagon which she had brought with her. She returned at once and said: "Bird, this is not enough; I want also the Singing Tree; tell me where it is." "Turn about," said the Bird, "and you will see behind you a wood where you will find the tree." The princess went into the wood, and by the harmonious concert she heard, soon knew the tree among many others, but it was very large and high. She came back again and said: "Bird, I have found the Singing Tree, but I can neither pull it up by the roots nor carry it." The Bird replied: "It is not necessary that you should take it up; it will be sufficient to break off a branch and carry it to plant in your garden; it will take root as soon as it is put into the earth, and in a little time will grow to as fine a tree as that you have seen."

It will be sufficient to break off a branch and carry it to plant in your garden.

When the princess had obtained possession of the three things for which she had conceived so great a desire, she said again: "Bird, what you have yet done for me is not sufficient. You have been the cause of the death of my two brothers, who must be among the black stones I saw as I ascended the mountain. I wish to take the princes home with me."

The Bird seemed reluctant to satisfy the princess in this point, and indeed made some difficulty to comply. "Bird," said the princess, "remember you told me that you were my slave. You are so; and your life is in my disposal." "That I cannot deny," answered the bird; "but although what you now ask is more difficult than all the rest, yet I will do it for you. Cast your eyes around," added he, "and look if you can see a little pitcher." "I see it already," said the princess. "Take it then," said he, "and as you descend the mountain, sprinkle a little of the water that is in it upon every black stone."

The princess took up the pitcher accordingly, carried with her the cage and Bird, the flagon of Golden Water, and the branch of the Singing Tree, and as she descended the mountain, threw a little of the water on every black stone, which was changed immediately into a man; and as she did not miss one stone, all the horses, both of her brothers and of the other gentlemen, resumed their natural forms also. She instantly recognised Bahman and Perviz, as they did her, and ran to embrace her. She returned their embraces and expressed her amazement. "What do you here, my dear brothers?" said she, and they told her they had been asleep. "Yes," replied she, "and if it had not been for me, perhaps you might have slept till the day of judgment. Do not you remember that you came to fetch the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree, and the Golden Water, and did not you see, as you came along, the place covered with black stones? Look and see if there be any now. The gentlemen and their horses who surround us, and you yourselves, were these black stones. If you desire to know how this wonder was performed," continued she, showing the pitcher, which she set down at the foot of the mountain, "it was done by virtue of the water which was in this pitcher, with which I sprinkled every stone. After I had made the Talking Bird (which you see in this cage) my slave, by his directions I found out the Singing Tree, a branch of which I have now in my hand; and the Golden Water, with which this flagon is filled; but being still unwilling to return without taking you with me, I constrained the Bird, by the power I had over him, to afford me the means. He told me where to find this pitcher, and the use I was to make of it."

The Princes Bahman and Perviz learned by this relation the obligation they had to their sister, as did all the other gentlemen, who expressed to her that, far from envying her happiness in the conquest she had made, and which they all had aspired to, they thought they could not better express their gratitude for restoring them to life again, than by declaring themselves her slaves, and that they were ready to obey her in whatever she should command.

"Gentlemen," replied the princess, "if you had given any attention to my words, you might have observed that I had no other intention in what I have done than to recover my brothers; therefore, if you have received any benefit, you owe me no obligation, and I have no further share in your compliment than your politeness toward me, for which I return you my thanks. In other respects, I regard each of you as quite as free as you were before your misfortunes, and I rejoice with you at the happiness which has accrued to you by my means. Let us, however, stay no longer in a place where we have nothing to detain us, but mount our horses and return to our respective homes."

The princess took her horse, which stood in the place where she had left him. Before she mounted, Prince Bahman desired her to give him the cage to carry. "Brother," replied the princess, "the Bird is my slave and I will carry him myself; if you will take the pains to carry the branch of the Singing Tree, there it is; only hold the cage while I get on horseback." When she had mounted her horse, and Prince Bahman had given her the cage, she turned about and said to Prince Perviz: "I leave the flagon of Golden Water to your care, if it will not be too much trouble for you to carry it," and Prince Perviz accordingly took charge of it with pleasure.

When Bahman, Perviz, and all the gentlemen had mounted their horses, the princess waited for some of them to lead the way. The two princes paid that compliment to the gentlemen, and they again to the princess, who, finding that none of them would accept the honour, but that it was reserved for her, addressed herself to them and said: "Gentlemen, I expect that some of you should lead the way:" to which one who was nearest to her, in the name of the rest, replied: "Madam, were we ignorant of the respect due to your sex, yet after what you have done for us there is no deference we would not willingly pay you, notwithstanding your modesty; we entreat you no longer to deprive us of the happiness of following you."

"Gentlemen," said the princess, "I do not deserve the honour you do me, and accept it only because you desire it." At the same time she led the way, and the two princes and the gentlemen followed.

This illustrious company called upon the dervish as they passed, to thank him for his reception and wholesome advice, which they had all found to be sincere. He was dead, however; whether of old age, or because he was no longer necessary to show the way to obtaining the three rarities, did not appear. They pursued their route, but lessened in their numbers every day. The gentlemen who, as we said before, had come from different countries, after severally repeating their obligations to the princess and her brothers, took leave of them one after another as they approached the road by which they had come.

As soon as the princess reached home, she placed the cage in the garden, and the Bird no sooner began to warble than he was surrounded by nightingales, chaffinches, larks, linnets, goldfinches, and every species of birds of the country. The branch of the Singing Tree was no sooner set in the midst of the parterre, a little distance from the house, than it took root and in a short time became a large tree, the leaves of which gave as harmonious a concert as those of the parent from which it was gathered. A large basin of beautiful marble was placed in the garden, and when it was finished, the princess poured into it all the Golden Water from the flagon, which instantly increased and swelled so much that it soon reached up to the edges of the basin, and afterward formed in the middle a fountain twenty feet high, which fell again into the basin perpetually, without running over.

The report of these wonders was presently spread abroad, and as the gates of the house and those of the gardens were shut to nobody, a great number of people came to admire them.

Some days after, when the Princes Bahman and Perviz had recovered from the fatigue of their journey, they resumed their former way of living; and as their usual diversion was hunting, they mounted their horses and went for the first time since their return, not to their own demesne, but two or three leagues from their house. As they pursued their sport, the emperor of Persia came in pursuit of game upon the same ground. When they perceived, by the number of horsemen in different places, that he would soon be up, they resolved to discontinue their chase, and retire to avoid encountering him; but in the very road they took they chanced to meet him in so narrow a way that they could not retreat without being seen. In their surprise they had only time to alight and prostrate themselves before the emperor, without lifting up their heads to look at him. The emperor, who saw they were as well mounted and dressed as if they had belonged to his court, had a curiosity to see their faces. He stopped and commanded them to rise. The princes rose up and stood before him with an easy and graceful air, accompanied with modest countenances. The emperor took some time to view them before he spoke, and after he had admired their good air and mien, asked them who they were and where they lived.

"Sir," said Prince Bahman, "we are the sons of the late intendant of your majesty's gardens, and live in a house which he built a little before he died, till we should be fit to serve your majesty and ask of you some employ when opportunity offered."

"By what I perceive," replied the emperor, "you love hunting." "Sir," replied Prince Bahman, "it is our common exercise, and what none of your majesty's subjects who intend to bear arms in your armies, ought, according to the ancient custom of the kingdom, to neglect." The emperor, charmed with so prudent an answer, said: "Since it is so, I should be glad to see your expertness in the chase; choose your own game."

The princes mounted their horses again and followed the emperor, but had not gone far before they saw many wild beasts together. Prince Bahman chose a lion and Prince Perviz a bear, and pursued them with so much intrepidity that the emperor was surprised. They came up with their game nearly at the same time, and darted their javelins with so much skill and address that they pierced the one the lion and the other the bear so effectually that the emperor saw them fall one after the other. Immediately afterward Prince Bahman pursued another bear, and Prince Perviz another lion, and killed them in a short time, and would have beaten out for fresh game, but the emperor would not let them, and sent to them to come to him. When they approached he said: "If I had given you leave, you would soon have destroyed all my game; but it is not that which I would preserve, but your persons; for I am so well assured your bravery may one time or other be serviceable to me, that from this moment your lives will be always dear to me."

The emperor, in short, conceived so great a kindness for the two princes, that he invited them immediately to make him a visit, to which Prince Bahman replied: "Your majesty does us an honour we do not deserve, and we beg you will excuse us."

The emperor, who could not comprehend what reason the princes could have to refuse this token of his favour, pressed them to tell him why they excused themselves. "Sir," said Prince Bahman, "we have a sister younger than ourselves, with whom we live in such perfect union, that we undertake nothing before we consult her, nor she anything without asking our advice." "I commend your brotherly affection," answered the emperor. "Consult your sister, meet me to-morrow, and give me an answer."

The princes went home, but neglected to speak of their adventure in meeting the emperor and hunting with him, and also of the honour he had done them, yet did not the next morning fail to meet him at the place appointed. "Well," said the emperor, "have you spoken to your sister, and has she consented to the pleasure I expect of seeing you?" The two princes looked at each other and blushed. "Sir," said Prince Bahman, "we beg your majesty to excuse us, for both my brother and I forgot." "Then remember to-day," replied the emperor, "and be sure to bring me an answer to-morrow."

The princes were guilty of the same fault a second time, and the emperor was so good-natured as to forgive their negligence; but to prevent their forgetfulness the third time, he pulled three little golden balls out of a purse, and put them into Prince Bahman's bosom. "These balls," said he, smiling, "will prevent your forgetting a third time what I wish you to do for my sake; since the noise they will make by falling on the floor when you undress will remind you, if you do not recollect it before." The event happened just as the emperor foresaw; and without these balls the princes had not thought of speaking to their sister of this affair, for as Prince Bahman unloosed his girdle to go to bed the balls dropped on the floor, upon which he ran into Prince Perviz's chamber, when both went into the Princess Periezade's apartment, and after they had asked her pardon for coming at so unseasonable a time, they told her all the circumstances of their meeting the emperor.

The princess was somewhat surprised at this intelligence. "Your meeting with the emperor," said she, "is happy and honourable and may in the end be highly advantageous to you, but it places me in an awkward position. It was on my account, I know, you refused the emperor, and I am infinitely obliged to you for doing so. I know by this that you would rather be guilty of incivility toward the emperor than violate the union we have sworn to each other. You judge right, for if you had once gone you would insensibly have been engaged to devote yourselves to him. But do you think it an easy matter absolutely to refuse the emperor what he seems so earnestly to desire? Monarchs will be obeyed in their desires, and it may be dangerous to oppose them; therefore, if to follow my inclination I should dissuade you from obeying him, it may expose you to his resentment, and may render myself and you miserable. These are my sentiments; but before we conclude upon anything let us consult the Talking Bird and hear what he says; he is penetrating, and has promised his assistance in all difficulties."

The princess sent for the cage, and after she had related the circumstances to the Bird in the presence of her brothers, asked him what they should do in this perplexity. The Bird answered: "The princes, your brothers, must conform to the emperor's pleasure, and in their turn invite him to come and see your house."

"But, Bird," replied the princess, "my brothers and I love one another, and our friendship is yet undisturbed. Will not this step be injurious to that friendship?" "Not at all," replied the Bird; "it will tend rather to cement it." "Then," answered the princess, "the emperor will see me." The Bird told her it was necessary he should, and that everything would go better afterward.

Next morning the princes met the emperor hunting, who asked them if they had remembered to speak to their sister. Prince Bahman approached and answered: "Sir, we are ready to obey you, for we have not only obtained our sister's consent with great ease, but she took it amiss that we should pay her that deference in a matter wherein our duty to your majesty was concerned. If we have offended, we hope you will pardon us." "Do not be uneasy," replied the emperor. "I highly approve of your conduct, and hope you will have the same deference and attachment to my person, if I have ever so little share in your friendship." The princes, confounded at the emperor's goodness, returned no other answer but a low obeisance.

The emperor, contrary to his usual custom, did not hunt long that day. Presuming that the princes possessed wit equal to their courage and bravery, he longed with impatience to converse with them more at liberty. He made them ride on each side of him, an honour which was envied by the grand vizier, who was much mortified to see them preferred before him.

When the emperor entered his capital, the eyes of the people, who stood in crowds in the streets, were fixed upon the two Princes Bahman and Perviz; and they were earnest to know who they might be.

All, however, agreed in wishing that the emperor had been blessed with two such handsome princes, and said that his children would have been about the same age, if the queen had not been so unfortunate as to lose them.

The first thing the emperor did when he arrived at his palace was to conduct the princes into the principal apartments, who praised without affectation the beauty and symmetry of the rooms, and the richness of the furniture and ornaments. Afterward a magnificent repast was served up, and the emperor made them sit with him, which they at first refused; but finding it was his pleasure, they obeyed.

The emperor, who had himself much learning, particularly in history, foresaw that the princes, out of modesty and respect, would not take the liberty of beginning any conversation. Therefore, to give them an opportunity, he furnished them with subjects all dinner-time. But whatever subject he introduced, they shewed so much wit, judgment, and discernment, that he was struck with admiration. "Were these my own children," said he to himself, "and I had improved their talents by suitable education, they could not have been more accomplished or better informed." In short, he took such great pleasure in their conversation, that, after having sat longer than usual, he led them into his closet, where he pursued his conversation with them, and at last said: "I never supposed that there were among my subjects in the country youths so well brought up, so lively, so capable; and I never was better pleased with any conversation than yours; but it is time now we should relax our minds with some diversion; and as nothing is more capable of enlivening the mind than music, you shall hear a vocal and instrumental concert which may not be disagreeable to you."

The emperor had no sooner spoken than the musicians, who had orders to attend, entered, and answered fully the expectations the princes had been led to entertain of their abilities. After the concerts, an excellent farce was acted, and the entertainment was concluded by dancers of both sexes.

The two princes, seeing night approach, prostrated themselves at the emperor's feet; and having first thanked him for the favours and honours he had heaped upon them, asked his permission to retire; which was granted by the emperor, who, in dismissing them, said: "I give you leave to go; but remember, you will be always welcome, and the oftener you come the greater pleasure you will do me."

Before they went out of the emperor's presence, Prince Bahman said: "Sir, may we presume to request that your majesty will do us and our sister the honour to pass by our house, and refresh yourself after your fatigue, the first time you take the diversion of hunting in that neighbourhood? It is not worthy of your presence; but monarchs sometimes have vouchsafed to take shelter in a cottage." "My children," replied the emperor, "your house cannot be otherwise than beautiful and worthy of its owners. I will call and see it with pleasure, which will be the greater for having for my hosts you and your sister, who is already dear to me from the account you give me of the rare qualities with which she is endowed: and this satisfaction I will defer no longer than to-morrow. Early in the morning I will be at the place where I shall never forget that I first saw you. Meet me, and you shall be my guides."

When the Princes Bahman and Perviz had returned home, they gave the princess an account of the distinguished reception the emperor had given them, and told her that they had invited him to do them the honour, as he passed by, to call at their house, and that he had appointed the next day.

"If it be so," replied the princess, "we must think of preparing a repast fit for his majesty; and for that purpose I think it would be proper we should consult the Talking Bird, who will tell us, perhaps, what meats the emperor likes best." The princes approved of her plan, and after they had retired she consulted the Bird alone. "Bird," said she, "the emperor will do us the honour to-morrow to come and see our house, and we are to entertain him; tell us what we shall do to acquit ourselves to his satisfaction."

"Good mistress," replied the Bird, "you have excellent cooks, let them do the best they can; but above all things, let them prepare a dish of cucumbers stuffed full of pearls, which must be set before the emperor in the first course before all the other dishes."

"Cucumbers stuffed full of pearls!" cried Princess Periezade with amazement; "surely, Bird, you do not know what you say; it is an unheard of dish. The emperor may admire it as a piece of magnificence, but he will sit down to eat, and not to admire pearls; besides, all the pearls I possess are not enough for such a dish."

"Mistress," said the Bird, "do what I say, and be not uneasy about what may happen. Nothing but good will follow. As for the pearls, go early to-morrow morning to the foot of the first tree on your right hand in the park, dig under it, and you will find more than you want."

That night the princess ordered a gardener to be ready to attend her, and the next morning early, led him to the tree which the Bird had told her of, and bade him dig at its foot. When the gardener came to a certain depth, he found some resistance to the spade, and presently discovered a gold box about a foot square, which he showed the princess. "This," said she, "is what I brought you for; take care not to injure it with the spade."

When the gardener took up the box, he gave it into the princess's hands, who, as it was only fastened with neat little hasps, soon opened it, and found it full of pearls of a moderate size, but equal and fit for the use that was to be made of them. Very well satisfied with having found this treasure, after she had shut the box again, she put it under her arm and went back to the house, while the gardener threw the earth into the hole at the foot of the tree as it had been before.

The Princes Bahman and Perviz, who, as they were dressing themselves in their own apartments, saw their sister in the garden earlier than usual, as soon as they could get out went to her, and met her as she was returning with a gold box under her arm, which much surprised them. "Sister," said Bahman, "you carried nothing with you when we saw you before with the gardener, and now we see you have a golden box; is this some treasure found by the gardener, and did he come and tell you of it?"

"No, brother," answered the princess, "I took the gardener to the place where this casket was concealed, and showed him where to dig; but you will be more amazed when you see what it contains."

The princess opened the box, and when the princes saw that it was full of pearls, which, though small, were of great value, they asked her how she came to the knowledge of this treasure. "Brothers," said she, "come with me and I will tell you." The princess, as they returned to the house, gave them an account of her having consulted the Bird, as they had agreed she should, and the answer he had given her; the objection she had raised to preparing a dish of cucumbers stuffed full of pearls, and how he had told her where to find this box. The sister and brothers formed many conjectures to penetrate into what the Bird could mean by ordering them to prepare such a dish; but after much conversation, they agreed to follow his advice exactly.

As soon as the princess entered the house, she called for the head cook; and after she had given him directions about the entertainment for the emperor, said to him: "Besides all this, you must dress an extraordinary dish for the emperor's own eating, which nobody else must have anything to do with besides yourself. This dish must be of cucumbers stuffed with these pearls:" and at the same time she opened him the box, and showed him the jewels.

The chief cook, who had never heard of such a dish, started back, and showed his thoughts by his looks; which the princess penetrating, said: "I see you take me to be mad to order such a dish, which one may say with certainty was never made. I know this as well as you; but I am not mad, and give you these orders with the most perfect recollection. You must invent and do the best you can, and bring me back what pearls are left." The cook could make no reply, but took the box and retired; and afterward the princess gave directions to all the domestics to have everything in order, both in the house and gardens, to receive the emperor.

Next day the two princes went to the place appointed, and as soon as the emperor of Persia arrived the chase began and lasted till the heat of the sun obliged him to leave off. While Prince Bahman stayed to conduct the emperor to their house, Prince Perviz rode before to show the way, and when he came in sight of the house, spurred his horse, to inform the princess that the emperor was approaching; but she had been told by some servants whom she had placed to give notice, and the prince found her waiting ready to receive him.

When the emperor had entered the court-yard and alighted at the portico, the princess came and threw herself at his feet, and the two princes informed him she was their sister, and besought him to accept her respects.

The emperor stooped to raise her, and after he had gazed some time on her beauty, struck with her fine person and dignified air, he said: "The brothers are worthy of the sister, and she worthy of them; since, if I may judge of her understanding by her person, I am not amazed that the brothers would do nothing without their sister's consent; but," added he, "I hope to be better acquainted with you, my daughter, after I have seen the house."

"Sir," said the princess, "it is only a plain country residence, fit for such people as we are, who live retired from the great world. It is not to be compared with the magnificent palaces of emperors." "I cannot perfectly agree with you in opinion," said the emperor very obligingly, "for its first appearance makes me suspect you; however, I will not pass my judgment upon it till I have seen it all; therefore be pleased to conduct me through the apartments."

The princess led the emperor through all the rooms except the hall; and, after he had considered them very attentively, and admired their variety, "My daughter," said he to the princess, "do you call this a country house? The finest and largest cities would soon be deserted if all country houses were like yours. I am no longer surprised that you despise the town. Now let me see the garden, which I doubt not is answerable to the house."

The princess opened a door which led into the garden, and the first object which presented itself to the emperor's view was the golden fountain. Surprised at so rare an object, he asked from whence that wonderful water, which gave so much pleasure to behold, had been procured; where was its source, and by what art it was made to play so high. He said he would presently take a nearer view of it.

The princess then led him to the spot where the harmonious tree was planted; and there the emperor heard a concert, different from all he had ever heard before; and stopping to see where the musicians were, he could discern nobody far or near, but still distinctly heard the music which ravished his senses. "My daughter," said he to the princess, "where are the musicians whom I hear? Are they under ground, or invisible in the air? Such excellent performers will hazard nothing by being seen; on the contrary, they would please the more."

"Sir," answered the princess, smiling, "they are not musicians, but the leaves of the tree your majesty sees before you, which form this concert; and if you will give yourself the trouble to go a little nearer, you will be convinced, and the voices will be the more distinct."

The emperor went nearer and was so charmed with the sweet harmony that he would never have been tired with hearing it, but that his desire to have a nearer view of the fountain of golden water forced him away. "Daughter," said he, "tell me, I pray you, whether this wonderful tree was found in your garden by chance, or was a present made to you, or have you procured it from some foreign country? It must certainly have come from a great distance, otherwise curious as I am after natural rarities I should have heard of it. What name do you call it by?"

"Sir," replied the princess, "this tree has no other name than that of the Singing Tree, and is not a native of this country. It would at present take up too much time to tell your majesty by what adventures it came here; its history is connected with the Golden Water and the Talking Bird, which came to me at the same time, and which your majesty may presently see. But if it be agreeable to your majesty, after you have rested yourself and recovered the fatigue of hunting, which must be the greater because of the sun's intense heat, I will do myself the honour of relating it to you."

"My daughter," replied the emperor, "my fatigue is so well recompensed by the wonderful things you have shown me, that I do not feel it in the least. Let me see the Golden Water, for I am impatient to see and admire afterward the Talking Bird."

When the emperor came to the Golden Water, his eyes were fixed so steadfastly upon the fountain, that he could not take them off. At last, addressing himself to the princess, he said: "As you tell me, daughter, that this water has no spring or communication, I conclude that it is foreign, as well as the Singing Tree."

"Sir," replied the princess, "it is as your majesty conjectures; and to let you know that this water has no communication with any spring, I must inform you that the basin is one entire stone, so that the water cannot come in at the sides or underneath. But what your majesty will think most wonderful is that all this water proceeded but from one small flagon, emptied into this basin, which increased to the quantity you see, by a property peculiar to itself, and formed this fountain." "Well," said the emperor, going from the fountain, "this is enough for one time. I promise myself the pleasure to come and visit it often; but now let us go and see the Talking Bird."

As he went toward the hall, the emperor perceived a prodigious number of singing birds in the trees around, filling the air with their songs and warblings, and asked why there were so many there and none on the other trees in the garden. "The reason, sir," answered the princess, "is because they come from all parts to accompany the song of the Talking Bird, which your majesty may see in a cage in one of the windows of the hall we are approaching; and if you attend, you will perceive that his notes are sweeter than those of any of the other birds, even the nightingale's."

The emperor went into the hall; and as the Bird continued singing, the princess raised her voice, and said, "My slave, here is the emperor, pay your compliments to him." The Bird left off singing that instant, when all the other birds ceased also, and said: "The emperor is welcome; God prosper him and prolong his life!" As the entertainment was served on the sofa near the window where the Bird was placed, the sultan replied, as he was taking his seat: "Bird, I thank you, and am overjoyed to find in you the sultan and king of birds."

As soon as the emperor saw the dish of cucumbers set before him, thinking they were prepared in the best manner, he reached out his hand and took one; but when he cut it, was in extreme surprise to find it stuffed with pearls. "What novelty is this?" said he; "and with what design were these cucumbers stuffed thus with pearls, since pearls are not to be eaten?" He looked at his hosts to ask them the meaning when the Bird interrupting him, said: "Can your majesty be in such great astonishment at cucumbers stuffed with pearls, which you see with your own eyes, and yet so easily believe that the queen, your wife, gave birth to a dog, a cat, and a piece of wood?" "I believed those things," replied the emperor, "because the attendants assured me of the facts." "Those attendants, sir," replied the Bird, "were the queen's two sisters, who, envious of her happiness in being preferred by your majesty before them, to satisfy their envy and revenge, have abused your majesty's credulity. If you interrogate them, they will confess their crime. The two brothers and the sister whom you see before you are your own children, whom they exposed, and who were taken in by the intendant of your gardens, who provided nurses for them, and took care of their education."

This speech presently cleared up the emperor's understanding. "Bird," cried he, "I believe the truth which you discover to me. The inclination which drew me to them told me plainly they must be of my own blood. Come then, my sons, come, my daughter, let me embrace you, and give you the first marks of a father's love and tenderness." The emperor then rose, and after having embraced the two princes and the princess, and mingled his tears with theirs, said: "It is not enough, my children; you must embrace each other, not as the children of the intendant of my gardens, to whom I have been so much obliged for preserving your lives, but as my own children, of the royal blood of the monarchs of Persia, whose glory, I am persuaded you will maintain."

After the two princes and princess had embraced mutually with new satisfaction, the emperor sat down again with them, and finished his meal in haste; and when he had done, said: "My children, you see in me your father; to-morrow I will bring the queen, your mother, therefore prepare to receive her."

The emperor afterward mounted his horse, and returned with expedition to his capitol. The first thing he did, as soon as he had alighted and entered his palace, was to command the grand vizier to seize the queen's two sisters. They were taken from their houses separately, convicted, and condemned to death; which sentence was put in execution within an hour.

In the meantime, the Emperor Kosrouschah, followed by all the lords of his court who were then present, went on foot to the door of the great mosque; and after he had taken the queen out of the strict confinement she had languished under for so many years, embracing her in the miserable condition to which she was then reduced, said to her with tears in his eyes: "I come to entreat your pardon for the injustice I have done you, and to make you the reparation I ought; which I have begun, by punishing the unnatural wretches who put the abominable cheat upon me; and I hope you will look upon it as complete, when I present to you two accomplished princes and a lovely princess, our children. Come and resume your former rank, with all the honours which are your due." All this was done and said before great crowds of people who flocked from all parts at the first news of what was passing, and immediately spread the joyful intelligence through the city.

Next morning early the emperor and queen, whose mournful humiliating dress was changed for magnificent robes, went with all their court to the house built by the intendant of the gardens, where the emperor presented the Princes Bahman and Perviz, and the Princess Periezade to their enraptured mother. "These, much injured wife," said he, "are the two princes your sons, and the princess your daughter; embrace them with the same tenderness I have done, since they are worthy both of me and you." The tears flowed plentifully down their cheeks at these tender embraces, especially the queen's, from the comfort and joy of having two such princes for her sons, and such a princess for her daughter, on whose account she had so long endured the severest afflictions.

The two princes and the princess had prepared a magnificent repast for the emperor and queen and their court. As soon as that was over, the emperor led the queen into the garden, and shewed her the Harmonious Tree and the beautiful effect of the Golden Fountain. She had seen the Bird in his cage, and the emperor had spared no panegyric in his praise during the repast.

When there was nothing to detain the emperor any longer, he took horse, and with the Princes Bahman and Perviz on his right hand, and the queen consort and the princess at his left, preceded and followed by all the officers of his court, according to their rank, returned to his capital. Crowds of people came out to meet them, and with acclamations of joy ushered them into the city, where all eyes were fixed not only upon the queen, and her royal children, but also upon the Bird, which the princess carried before her in his cage, admiring his sweet notes, which had drawn all the other birds about him, and followed him flying from tree to tree in the country, and from one house top to another in the city. The Princes Bahman and Perviz and the Princess Periezade were at length brought to the palace with pomp, and nothing was to be seen or heard all that night but illuminations and rejoicings both in the palace and in the utmost parts of the city, which lasted many days, and were continued throughout the empire of Persia, as intelligence of the joyful event reached the several provinces.

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THE STORY OF THE FISHERMAN AND THE GENIE

There was once an aged fisherman who was so poor that he could scarcely earn as much as would maintain himself, his wife, and three children. He went every day to fish betimes in the morning, and imposed it as a law upon himself not to cast his nets above four times a day. He went one morning by moonlight, and coming to the seaside, undressed himself, and cast in his nets. As he drew them toward the shore, he found them very heavy, and thought he had a good draught of fish, at which he rejoiced; but a moment after, perceiving that instead of fish his net contained nothing but the carcass of an ass, he was much vexed.

When he had mended his nets, which the carcass of the ass had broken in several places, he threw them in a second time; and when he drew them, found a great deal of resistance, which made him think he had taken abundance of fish; but he found nothing except a basket full of gravel and slime, which grieved him extremely. "O Fortune!" cried he, with a lamentable tone, "be not angry with me, nor persecute a wretch who prays thee to spare him. I came hither from my house to seek for my livelihood, and thou pronouncest against me a sentence of death. I have no other trade but this to subsist by, and, notwithstanding all my care, I can scarcely provide what is necessary for my family. But I am to blame to complain of thee; thou takest pleasure to persecute honest people, and advancest those who have no virtue to recommend them."

Having finished this complaint, he fretfully threw away the basket, and, washing his nets from the slime, cast them a third time, but brought up nothing except stones, shells, and mud. No language can express his disappointment; he was almost distracted. However, when day began to appear, he did not forget to say his prayers like a good Mussulman, and he added to them this petition: "Lord, thou knowest that I cast my nets only four times a day; I have already drawn them three times, without the least reward for my labour: I am only to cast them once more; I pray thee to render the sea favourable to me, as thou didst to Moses."

The fisherman, having finished this prayer, cast his nets the fourth time; and when he thought it was proper, drew them as formerly with great difficulty; but instead of fish found nothing in them but a vessel of yellow copper, which, from its weight, seemed not to be empty; and he observed that it was fastened and closed with lead, having the impression of a seal upon it. This turn of fortune rejoiced him: "I will sell it," said he, "to the founder, and with the money buy a measure of corn." He examined the vessel on all sides, and shook it to see if its contents made any noise, but heard nothing. This circumstance, with the impression of the seal upon the cover, made him think it enclosed something precious. To try this, he took a knife and opened it with very little labour. He turned the mouth downward, but nothing came out, which surprised him extremely. He placed it before him, but while he viewed it attentively, there burst forth a very thick smoke, which obliged him to retire two or three paces back.

The smoke ascended to the clouds, and, extending itself along the sea and upon the shore, formed a great mist, which filled the fisherman with astonishment. When the smoke was all out of the vessel, it reunited, and became a solid body, of which was formed a genie twice as high as the greatest of giants. At the sight of such a monster the fisherman would fain have fled, but was so frightened that he could not move.

The smoke ascended to the clouds, and extending itself along the sea and upon the shore formed a great mist.

"Solomon," cried the genie immediately, "Solomon, the great prophet, pardon, pardon; I will never more oppose your will, I will obey all your commands."

The fisherman, when he heard these words of the genie, recovered his courage and said to him: "Thou proud spirit, what is it you say? It is above eighteen hundred years since the prophet Solomon died, and we are now at the end of time. Tell me your history, and how you came to be shut up in this vessel."

The genie, turning to the fisherman with a fierce look, said: "Thou must address me with more courtesy; thou art a presumptuous fellow to call me a proud spirit; speak to me more respectfully, or I will kill thee." "Ah!" replied the fisherman, "why should you kill me? Did I not just now set you at liberty, and have you already forgotten my services?"

"No, I remember it," said the genie, "but that shall not save thy life: I have only one favour to grant thee." "And what is that?" asked the fisherman. "It is," answered the genie, "to give thee thy choice in what manner thou wouldst have me put thee to death." "But wherein have I offended you?" demanded the fisherman. "Is that your reward for the service I have rendered you?" "I cannot treat thee otherwise," said the genie; "and that thou mayest know the reason, hearken to my story."

"I am one of those rebellious spirits that opposed the will of Solomon, the son of David, and to avenge himself, that monarch sent Asaph, the son of Barakhia, his chief minister, to apprehend me. Asaph seized my person, and brought me by force before his master's throne.

"Solomon commanded me to acknowledge his power, and to submit to his commands. I bravely refused, and told him I would rather expose myself to his resentment, than swear fealty as he required. To punish me, he shut me up in this copper vessel; and that I might not break my prison, he himself stamped upon this leaden cover his seal with the great name of God engraven upon it. He then gave the vessel to one of the genies who had submitted, with orders to throw me into the sea.

"During the first hundred years of my imprisonment, I swore that if any one should deliver me before the expiration of that period, I would make him rich, even after his death; but that century ran out, and nobody did me the good office. During the second, I made an oath that I would open all the treasures of the earth to any one that might set me at liberty; but with no better success. In the third, I promised to make my deliverer a potent monarch, and to grant him every day three requests, of what nature soever they might be; but this century passed as well as the two former, and I continued in prison. At last, being angry to find myself a prisoner so long, I swore that if afterward any one should deliver me, I would kill him without mercy, and grant him no favour but to choose the manner of his death; and, therefore, since thou hast delivered me to-day, I give thee that choice."

This discourse afflicted the fisherman extremely: "I am very unfortunate," cried he, "to come hither to do such a kindness to one that is so ungrateful. I beg you to consider your injustice, and revoke such an unreasonable oath; pardon me, and Heaven will pardon you; if you grant me my life, Heaven will protect you from all attempts against your own." "No, thy death is resolved on," said the genie, "only choose in what manner thou wilt die." The fisherman, perceiving the genie to be resolute, was extremely grieved, not so much for himself, as on account of his three children, and bewailed the misery they must be reduced to by his death. He endeavoured still to appease the genie, and said, "Alas! be pleased to take pity on me, in consideration of the service I have done you." "I have told thee already," replied the genie, "it is for that very reason I must kill thee." "That is strange," said the fisherman, "are you resolved to reward good with evil? The proverb truly says, 'He who does good to one who deserves it not, is always ill rewarded.'" "Do not lose time," interrupted the genie; "all thy chattering shall not divert me from my purpose; make haste, and tell me what kind of death thou preferrest?"

Necessity is the mother of invention. The fisherman bethought himself of a stratagem. "Since I must die then," said he to the genie, "I submit to the will of Heaven; but before I choose the manner of my death, I conjure you, by the great name which was engraven upon the seal of the prophet Solomon, to answer me truly the question I am going to ask you."

The genie finding himself obliged to a positive answer by this adjuration, trembled, and replied to the fisherman: "Ask what thou wilt, but make haste."

The genie having thus promised to speak the truth, the fisherman said to him: "I wish to know if you were actually in this vessel: dare you swear it by the name of the great God?" "Yes," replied the genie, "I do swear by His great name that I was." "In good faith," answered the fisherman, "I cannot believe you; the vessel is not capable of holding one of your size, and how should it be possible that your whole body could lie in it?" "I swear to thee, notwithstanding," replied the genie, "that I was there just as you see me here. Is it possible that thou dost not believe me after the solemn oath I have taken?" "Truly not I," said the fisherman; "nor will I believe you, unless you go into the vessel again."

Upon this the body of the genie dissolved and changed itself into smoke, extending as before upon the seashore; and at last being collected, it began to re-enter the vessel, which it continued to do by a slow and equal motion, till no part remained out; when immediately a voice came forth, which said to the fisherman: "Well, incredulous fellow, dost thou not believe me now?"

The fisherman, instead of answering the genie, took the cover of lead, and having speedily replaced it on the vessel, "Genie," cried he, "now it is your turn to beg my favour, and to choose which way I shall put you to death; but it is better that I should throw you into the sea, whence I took you: and then I will build a house upon the shore, where I will reside and give notice to all fishermen who come to throw in their nets, to beware of such a wicked genie as you are, who have made an oath to kill him that shall set you at liberty."

The genie, enraged at these expressions, struggled to free himself; but it was impossible, for the impression of Solomon's seal prevented him. Perceiving that the fisherman had the advantage of him, he thought fit to dissemble his anger; "Fisherman," said he, "take heed you do not what you threaten; for what I spoke to you was only by way of jest." "O genie!" replied the fisherman, "thou who wast but a moment ago the greatest of all genies, and now art the least of them, thy crafty discourse will signify nothing, to the sea thou shalt return. If thou hast been there already so long as thou hast told me, thou mayest very well stay there till the day of judgment. I begged of thee, in God's name, not to take away my life, and thou didst reject my prayers; I am obliged to treat thee in the same manner."

The genie omitted nothing that he thought likely to prevail with the fisherman: "Open the vessel," said he, "give me my liberty, and I promise to satisfy you to your own content." "Thou art a traitor," replied the fisherman, "I should deserve to lose my life, if I were such a fool as to trust thee."

"My good fisherman," replied the genie, "I conjure you once more not to be guilty of such cruelty; consider that it is not good to avenge one's self, and that, on the other hand, it is commendable to do good for evil; do not treat me as Imama formerly treated Ateca." "And what did Imama to Ateca?" inquired the fisherman. "Ho!" cried the genie, "if you have a mind to be informed, open the vessel: do you think that I can be in a humour to relate stories in so strait a prison? I will tell you as many as you please, when you have let me out." "No," said the fisherman, "I will not let thee out; it is in vain to talk of it; I am just going to throw thee into the bottom of the sea." "Hear me one word more," cried the genie; "I promise to do you no hurt; nay, far from that, I will show you a way to become exceedingly rich."

The hope of delivering himself from poverty prevailed with the fisherman. "I could listen to thee," said he, "were there any credit to be given to thy word; swear to me, by the great name of God, that thou wilt faithfully perform what thou promisest, and I will open the vessel; I do not believe thou wilt dare to break such an oath."

The genie swore to him, upon which the fisherman immediately took off the covering of the vessel. At that instant the smoke ascended, and the genie, having resumed his form, the first thing he did was to kick the vessel into the sea. This action alarmed the fisherman. "Genie," said he, "will not you keep the oath you just now made?"

The genie laughed at his fear, and answered: "Fisherman, be not afraid, I only did it to divert myself, and to see if you would be alarmed at it; but to convince you that I am in earnest, take your nets and follow me." As he spoke these words, he walked before the fisherman, who having taken up his nets, followed him, but with some distrust. They passed by the town, and came to the top of a mountain, from whence they descended into a vast plain, which brought them to a lake that lay betwixt four hills.

When they reached the side of the lake, the genie said to the fisherman: "Cast in your nets and catch fish." The fisherman did not doubt of taking some, because he saw a great number in the water; but he was extremely surprised when he found they were of four colours; white, red, blue, and yellow. He threw in his nets and brought out one of each colour. Having never seen the like before, he could not but admire them, and, judging that he might get a considerable sum for them, he was very joyful. "Carry those fish," said the genie to him, "and present them to your sultan; he will give you more money for them. You may come daily to fish in this lake; but I give you warning not to throw in your nets above once a day, otherwise you will repent." Having spoken thus, he struck his foot upon the ground, which opened, and after it had swallowed him up, closed again.

The fisherman, being resolved to follow the genie's advice, forbore casting in his nets a second time, and returned to the town very well satisfied, and making a thousand reflections upon his adventure. He went immediately to the sultan's palace to offer his fish, and his majesty was much surprised when he saw the wonders which the fisherman presented. He took them up one after another, and viewed them with attention; and after having admired them a long time, "Take those fish," said he to his vizier, "and carry them to the cook whom the emperor of the Greeks has sent me. I cannot imagine but that they must be as good as they are beautiful."

The vizier carried them as he was directed, and delivering them to the cook, said: "Here are four fish just brought to the sultan; he orders you to dress them." He then returned to the sultan, who commanded him to give the fisherman four hundred pieces of gold, which he did accordingly.

The fisherman, who had never seen so much money, could scarcely believe his good fortune, but thought the whole must be a dream, until he found it otherwise, by being able to provide necessaries for his family with the produce of his nets.

As soon as the sultan's cook had cleaned the fish, she put them upon the fire in a frying-pan, with oil, and when she thought them fried enough on one side, she turned them upon the other; but, O monstrous prodigy! scarcely were they turned, when the wall of the kitchen divided, and a young lady of wonderful beauty entered from the opening. She held a rod in her hand and was clad in flowered satin, with pendants in her ears, a necklace of large pearls, and bracelets of gold set with rubies. She moved toward the frying-pan, to the great amazement of the cook, and striking one of the fish with the end of the rod, said: "Fish, fish, are you in your duty?" The fish having answered nothing, she repeated these words, and then the four fish lifted up their heads, and replied: "Yes, yes: if you reckon, we reckon; if you pay your debts, we pay ours; if you fly, we overcome, and are content." As soon as they had finished these words, the lady overturned the frying-pan, and returned into the open part of the wall, which closed immediately, and became as it was before.

The cook was greatly frightened at what had happened, and coming a little to herself went to take up the fish that had fallen on the hearth, but found them blacker than coal and not fit to be carried to the sultan. This grievously troubled her, and she fell to weeping most bitterly. "Alas!" said she, "what will become of me? If I tell the sultan what I have seen, I am sure he will not believe me, but will be enraged against me."

While she was thus bewailing herself, the grand vizier entered, and asked her if the fish were ready. She told him all that had occurred, which we may easily imagine astonished him; but without speaking a word of it to the sultan he invented an excuse that satisfied him, and sending immediately for the fisherman bid him bring four more such fish, for a misfortune had befallen the others, so that they were not fit to be carried to the royal table. The fisherman, without saying anything of what the genie had told him, told the vizier he had a great way to go for them, in order to excuse himself from bringing them that day, but said that he would certainly bring them on the morrow.

Accordingly the fisherman went away by night, and coming to the lake, threw in his nets betimes next morning, took four fish like the former, and brought them to the vizier at the hour appointed. The minister took them himself, carried them to the kitchen, and shutting himself up with the cook, she cleaned them and put them on the fire. When they were fried on one side, and she had turned them upon the other, the kitchen wall again opened, and the same lady came in with the rod in her hand, struck one of the fish, spoke to it as before, and all four gave her the same answer.

After they had spoken to the young lady, she overturned the frying-pan with her rod, and retired into the wall. The grand vizier being witness to what had passed, "This is too wonderful and extraordinary," said he, "to be concealed from the sultan; I will inform him of this prodigy."

The sultan, being much surprised, sent immediately for the fisherman, and said to him: "Friend, cannot you bring me four more such fish?" The fisherman replied: "If your majesty will be pleased to allow me three days, I will do it." Having obtained his time, he went to the lake immediately, and at the first throwing in of his net he caught four fish, and brought them directly to the sultan, who was so much the more rejoiced, as he did not expect them so soon, and ordered him four hundred pieces of gold. As soon as the sultan had the fish, he ordered them to be carried into his closet, with all that was necessary for frying them; and having shut himself up with the vizier, the minister cleaned them, put them into the pan, and when they were fried on one side, turned them upon the other; then the wall of the closet opened, but instead of the young lady, there came out a black, in the habit of a slave, and of a gigantic stature, with a great green staff in his hand. He advanced toward the pan, and touching one of the fish with his staff, said, with a terrible voice: "Fish, are you in your duty?" At these words the fish raised up their heads, and answered: "Yes, yes; we are; if you reckon, we reckon; if you pay your debts, we pay ours; if you fly, we overcome and are content."

The fish had no sooner finished these words, than the black threw the pan into the middle of the closet, and reduced them to a coal. Having done this, he retired fiercely, and entering again into the aperture, it closed, and the wall appeared just as it did before.

"After what I have seen," said the sultan to the vizier, "it will not be possible for me to be easy; these fish, without doubt, signify something extraordinary." He sent for the fisherman, and when he came, said to him: "Fisherman, the fish you have brought us make me very uneasy; where did you catch them?" "Sir," answered he, "I fished for them in a lake situated betwixt four hills, beyond the mountain that we see from hence." "Know'st thou not that lake?" said the sultan to the vizier. "No," replied the vizier, "I never so much as heard of it, although I have for sixty years hunted beyond that mountain." The sultan asked the fisherman how far the lake might be from the palace. The fisherman answered it was not above three hours' journey; upon this assurance the sultan commanded all his court to take horse, and the fisherman served them for a guide. They all ascended the mountain, and at the foot of it they saw, to their great surprise, a vast plain that nobody had observed till then, and at last they came to the lake, which they found to be situated betwixt four hills, as the fisherman had described. The water was so transparent that they observed all the fish to be like those which the fisherman had brought to the palace.

The sultan stood upon the bank of the lake, and after beholding the fish with admiration, demanded of his courtiers if it were possible they had never seen this lake which was within so short a distance of the town. They all answered that they had never so much as heard of it.

"Since you all agree that you never heard of it," said the sultan, "and as I am no less astonished than you are at this novelty, I am resolved not to return to my palace till I learn how this lake came here, and why all the fish in it are of four colours." Having spoken thus, he ordered his court to encamp; and immediately his pavilion and the tents of his household were planted upon the banks of the lake.

When night came the sultan retired under his pavilion, and spoke to the grand vizier thus: "Vizier, my mind is uneasy; this lake transported hither, the black that appeared to us in my closet, and the fish that we heard speak; all these things so much excite my curiosity that I cannot resist my impatient desire to have it satisfied. To this end I am resolved to withdraw alone from the camp, and I order you to keep my absence secret: stay in my pavilion, and to-morrow morning, when the emirs and courtiers come to attend my levee, send them away and tell them that I am somewhat indisposed and wish to be alone; and the following days tell them the same thing, till I return."

The grand vizier endeavoured to divert the sultan from this design; he represented to him the danger to which he might be exposed, and that all his labour might perhaps be in vain; but it was to no purpose; the sultan was resolved. He put on a suit fit for walking and took his cimeter; and as soon as he found that all was quiet in the camp, went out alone, and passed over one of the hills without much difficulty; he found the descent still more easy, and when he came to the plain, walked on till the sun arose, and then he saw before him, at a considerable distance, a vast building. He rejoiced at the sight, in hopes of receiving there the information he sought. When he drew near, he found it was a magnificent palace, or rather a strong castle, of black polished marble, and covered with fine steel, as smooth as glass. Being highly pleased that he had so speedily met with something worthy his curiosity, he stopped before the front of the castle, and considered it with attention.

He then advanced toward the gate, which had two leaves, one of them open; though he might immediately have entered, yet he thought it best to knock. This he did at first softly, and waited for some time; but seeing no one, and supposing he had not been heard, he knocked harder the second time, and after that he knocked again and again, but no one yet appearing, he was exceedingly surprised; for he could not think that a castle in such repair was without inhabitants. "If there be no one in it," said he to himself, "I have nothing to fear; and if it be inhabited, I have wherewith to defend myself."

At last he entered, and when he came within the porch, he cried: "Is there no one here to receive a stranger who comes in for some refreshment as he passes by?" He repeated the same words two or three times; but though he spoke very loud, he was not answered. The silence increased his astonishment: he came into a spacious court, and looked on every side for inhabitants, but discovered none.

Perceiving nobody in the court, he entered the grand halls, which were hung with silk tapestry, the alcoves and sofas covered with stuffs of Mecca, and the porches with the richest stuffs of India. He came afterward into a superb saloon, in the middle of which was a fountain, with a lion of massy gold at each angle: water issued from the mouths of the four lions, and as it fell, formed diamonds and pearls resembling a jet d'eau, which, springing from the middle of the fountain, rose nearly to the top of a cupola painted in Arabesque.

The castle, on three sides, was encompassed by a garden, with parterres of flowers and shrubbery; and to complete the beauty of the place, an infinite number of birds filled the air with their harmonious notes, and always remained there, nets being spread over the garden, and fastened to the palace to confine them. The sultan walked from apartment to apartment, where he found everything rich and magnificent. Being tired with walking, he sat down in a veranda, which had a view over the garden, reflecting upon what he had seen, when suddenly he heard the voice of one complaining, in lamentable tones. He listened with attention, and heard distinctly these words: "O fortune! thou who wouldst not suffer me longer to enjoy a happy lot, forbear to persecute me, and by a speedy death put an end to my sorrows. Alas! is it possible that I am still alive, after so many torments as I have suffered!"

The sultan rose up, advanced toward the place whence he heard the voice, and coming to the door of a great hall, opened it, and saw a handsome young man, richly habited, seated upon a throne raised a little above the ground. Melancholy was painted on his countenance. The sultan drew near and saluted him; the young man returned his salutation, by an inclination of his head, not being able to rise, at the same time saying: "My lord, I should rise to receive you, but am hindered by sad necessity, and therefore hope you will not be offended." "My lord," replied the sultan, "I am much obliged to you for having so good an opinion of me: as to the reason of your not rising, whatever your apology be, I heartily accept it. Being drawn hither by your complaints, and afflicted by your grief, I come to offer you my help. I flatter myself that you will relate to me the history of your misfortunes; but inform me first of the meaning of the lake near the palace, where the fish are of four colours; whose castle is this; how you came to be here; and why you are alone."

Instead of answering these questions, the young man began to weep bitterly. "How inconstant is fortune!" cried he; "she takes pleasure to pull down those she has raised. Where are they who enjoy quietly the happiness which they hold of her, and whose day is always clear and serene?"

The sultan, moved with compassion to see him in such a condition, prayed him to relate the cause of his excessive grief. "Alas! my lord," replied the young man, "how is it possible but I should grieve, and my eyes be inexhaustible fountains of tears?" At these words, lifting up his robe, he showed the sultan that he was a man only from the head to the girdle, and that the other half of his body was black marble.

The sultan was much surprised when he saw the deplorable condition of the young man. "That which you show me," said he, "while it fills me with horror, excites my curiosity, so that I am impatient to hear your history, which, no doubt, must be extraordinary, and I am persuaded that the lake and the fish make some part of it; therefore I conjure you to relate it. You will find some comfort in so doing, since it is certain that the unfortunate find relief in making known their distress." "I will not refuse your request," replied the young man, "though I cannot comply without renewing my grief. But I give you notice beforehand, to prepare your ears, your mind, and even your eyes, for things which surpass all that the imagination can conceive."

---

THE HISTORY OF THE YOUNG KING OF THE BLACK ISLES

"You must know, my lord," said the wretched prisoner, "that my father, named Mahmoud, was monarch of this country. This is the kingdom of the Black Isles, which takes its name from the four small neighbouring mountains; for those mountains were formerly isles, and the capital where the king, my father, resided was situated on the spot now occupied by the lake you have seen. The sequel of my history will inform you of the reason for those changes.

"The king, my father, died when he was seventy years of age; I had no sooner succeeded him than I married, and the lady I chose to share the royal dignity with me was my cousin. I had so much reason to be satisfied with her affection, and, on my part, loved her with so much tenderness, that nothing could surpass the harmony of our union. This lasted five years, at the end of which time I perceived the queen ceased to delight in my attentions.

"One day, after dinner, while she was at the bath, I found myself inclined to repose, and lay down upon a sofa. Two of her ladies, who were then in my chamber, came and sat down, one at my head and the other at my feet, with fans in their hands to moderate the heat, and to prevent the flies from disturbing me. They thought I was asleep, and spoke in whispers; but as I only closed my eyes, I heard all their conversation.

"One of them said to the other, 'Is not the queen wrong, not to love so amiable a prince?' 'Certainly,' replied her companion; 'I do not understand the reason, neither can I conceive why she goes out every night, and leaves him alone! Is it possible that he does not perceive it?' 'Alas!' said the first, 'how should he? She mixes every evening in his liquor the juice of a certain herb, which makes him sleep so sound all night that she has time to go where she pleases, and as day begins to appear she comes and wakes him by the smell of something she puts under his nostrils.'

"You may guess, my lord, how much I was surprised at this conversation, and with what sentiments it inspired me; yet whatever emotion it excited I had sufficient self-command to dissemble, and feigned to awake without having heard a word.

"The queen returned from the bath, we supped together, and she presented me with a cup full of such liquid as I was accustomed to drink; but instead of putting it to my mouth, I went to a window that was open, threw out the water so quickly that she did not perceive it, and returned.

"Soon after, believing that I was asleep, she arose with so little precaution, that she whispered loud enough for me to hear her distinctly, 'Sleep on, and may you never wake again!' and so saying, she dressed herself, and went out of the chamber.

"As soon as the queen, my wife, was gone, I arose in haste, took my cimeter, and followed her so quickly that I soon heard the sound of her feet before me, and then walked softly after her. She passed through several gates, which opened upon her pronouncing some magical words, and the last she opened was that of the garden, which she entered. I stopped at this gate, that she might not perceive me as she passed along a parterre; then looking after her as far as the darkness of the night permitted, I saw her enter a little wood, whose walks were guarded by thick palisadoes. I went thither by another way, and concealing myself, I saw her walking there with a man.

"I did not fail to lend the most attentive ear to their discourse, and heard her address herself thus to her gallant: 'I do not deserve,' she said, 'to be reproached by you for want of diligence. You well know the reason; but if all the proofs of affection I have already given you be not sufficient to convince you of my sincerity, I am ready to give you others more decisive: you need but command me, you know my power; I will, if you desire it, before sunrise convert this great city, and this superb palace, into frightful ruins, inhabited only by wolves, owls, and ravens. If you would have me transport all the stones of those walls so solidly built, beyond Mount Caucasus, the bounds of the habitable world, speak but the word, and all shall be changed.'

"As the queen finished this speech she and her companion came to the end of the walk, turned to enter another, and passed before me. I had already drawn my cimeter, and the man being next me, I struck him on the neck, and brought him to the ground. I concluded I had killed him, and therefore retired speedily without making myself known to the queen, whom I chose to spare, because she was my kinswoman.

"The wound I had given her companion was mortal; but by her enchantments she preserved him in an existence in which he could not be said to be either dead or alive. As I crossed the garden to return to the palace, I heard the queen loudly lamenting, and judging by her cries how much she was grieved, I was pleased that I had spared her life.

"As soon as I had reached my apartment, I went to bed, and being satisfied with having punished the villain who had injured me, fell asleep.

"Next morning I arose, went to my closet, and dressed myself. I afterward held my council. At my return, the queen, clad in mourning, her hair dishevelled, and part of it torn off, presented herself before me, and said: 'I come to beg your majesty not to be surprised to see me in this condition. My heavy affliction is occasioned by intelligence of three distressing events which I have just received.' 'Alas! what are they, madam?' said I. 'The death of the queen, my dear mother,' she replied, 'that of the king, my father, killed in battle, and of one of my brothers, who has fallen down a precipice.'

"I was not displeased that she used these pretexts to conceal the true cause of her grief. 'Madam,' said I, 'so far from blaming, I assure you I heartily commiserate your sorrow. I should feel surprise if you were insensible to such heavy calamities: weep on; your tears are so many proofs of your tenderness; but I hope that time and reflection will moderate your grief.'

"She retired into her apartment, where, giving herself wholly up to sorrow, she spent a whole year in mourning and lamentation. At the end of that period, she begged permission to erect a burying-place for herself, within the bounds of the palace, where she would continue, she told me, to the end of her days: I consented, and she built a stately edifice, and called it the Palace of Tears. When it was finished, she caused the object of her care to be conveyed thither; she had hitherto prevented his dying, by potions which she had administered to him; and she continued to convey them to him herself every day after he came to the Palace of Tears.

"Yet, with all her enchantments, she could not cure the wretch; he was not only unable to walk or support himself, but had also lost the use of his speech, and exhibited no sign of life except in his looks.

"Every day the queen made him two long visits. I was well apprised of this, but pretended ignorance. One day my curiosity induced me to go to the Palace of Tears, to observe how my consort employed herself, and from a place where she could not see me, I heard her thus address the wounded ruffian: 'I am afflicted to the highest degree to behold you in this condition,' she cried, 'I am as sensible as yourself of the tormenting pain you endure; but, dear soul, I am continually speaking to you, and you do not answer me: how long will you remain silent? Speak only one word: alas! the sweetest moments of my life are these I spend here in partaking of your grief.'

"At these words, which were several times interrupted by her sighs, I lost all patience: and discovering myself, came up to her, and said, 'Madam, you have wept enough, it is time to give over this sorrow, which dishonours us both; you have too much forgotten what you owe to me and to yourself.' 'Sire,' said she, 'if you have any kindness or compassion for me left, I beseech you to put no restraint upon me; allow me to indulge my grief, which it is impossible for time to assuage.'

"When I perceived that my remonstrance, instead of restoring her to a sense of duty, served only to increase her anguish, I ceased speaking and retired. She continued every day to visit her charge, and for two whole years abandoned herself to grief and despair.

"I went a second time to the Palace of Tears, while she was there. I concealed myself again, and heard her thus cry out: 'It is now three years since you spoke one word to me; you answer not the proofs I give you of my devotion by my sighs and lamentations. Is it from insensibility, or contempt? O tomb! tell me by what miracle thou becamest the depository of the rarest treasure the world ever contained.'

"I must confess, my lord, I was enraged at these expressions; for, in truth, this adored mortal was by no means what you would imagine him to have been. He was a black Indian, one of the original natives of this country. I was so enraged at the language addressed to him, that I discovered myself, and apostrophising the tomb in my turn, I cried, 'O tomb! why dost thou not swallow up that monster so revolting to human nature, or rather why dost thou not swallow up this pair of monsters?'

"I had scarcely uttered these words, when the queen, who sat by the black, rose up like a fury: 'Miscreant!' said she, 'thou art the cause of my grief; do not think I am ignorant of this, I have dissembled too long. It was thy barbarous hand that brought the object of my fondness into this lamentable condition; and thou hast the cruelty to come and insult me.' 'Yes,' said I, in a rage, 'it was I who chastised that monster, according to his desert; I ought to have treated thee in the same manner; I now repent that I did not; thou hast too long abused my goodness.' As I spoke these words, I drew out my cimeter, and lifted up my hand to punish her; but regarding me steadfastly, she said with a jeering smile, 'Moderate thine anger.' At the same time she pronounced words I did not understand; and afterward added, 'By virtue of my enchantments, I command thee to become half marble and half man.' Immediately, my lord, I became what you see, a dead man among the living, and a living man among the dead. After this cruel sorceress, unworthy of the name of queen, had metamorphosed me thus, and brought me into this hall, by another enchantment she destroyed my capital, which was very flourishing and populous; she annihilated the houses, the public places and markets, and reduced the site of the whole to the lake and desert plain you have seen; the fishes of four colours in the waters are the four kinds of inhabitants, of different religions, which the city contained. The white are the Mussulmans; the red, the Persians, who worship fire; the blue, the Christians; and the yellow, the Jews. The four little hills were the four islands that gave name to this kingdom. I learned all this from the enchantress, who, to add to my affliction, related to me these effects of her rage. But this is not all; her revenge not being satisfied with the destruction of my dominions, and the metamorphosis of my person, she comes every day, and gives me over my naked shoulders a hundred lashes with a whip until I am covered with blood. When she has finished this part of my punishment, she throws over me a coarse stuff of goat's hair, and over that this robe of brocade, not to honour, but to mock me."

When he came to this part of his narrative, the young king could not restrain his tears; and the sultan was himself so affected by the relation, that he could not find utterance for any words of consolation. Shortly after, the young king, lifting up his eyes to heaven, exclaimed, "Mighty creator of all things, I submit myself to Thy judgments, and to the decrees of Thy providence: I endure my calamities with patience, since it is Thy will that things should be as they are; but I hope that Thy infinite goodness will ultimately reward me."

When he came to this part of his narrative the young king could not restrain his tears.

The sultan, greatly moved by the recital of this affecting story, and anxious to avenge the sufferings of the unfortunate prince, said to him: "Inform me whither this perfidious sorceress retires, and where may be found the vile wretch, who is entombed before his death." "My lord," replied the prince, "the Indian, as I have already told you, is lodged in the Palace of Tears, in a superb tomb constructed in the form of a dome: this palace joins the castle on the side in which the gate is placed. As to the queen, I cannot tell you precisely whither she retires, but every day at sunrise she goes to visit her charge, after having executed her bloody vengeance upon me; and you see I am not in a condition to defend myself. She carries to him the potion with which she has hitherto prevented his dying, and always complains of his never having spoken to her since he was wounded."

"Prince," said the sultan, "your condition can never be sufficiently deplored: no one can be more sensibly affected by your misfortune than I am. Never did anything so extraordinary befall any man! One thing only is wanting; the revenge to which you are entitled, and I will omit nothing in my power to effect it."

In his subsequent conversation with the young prince the sultan told him who he was, and for what purpose he had entered the castle; and afterward informed him of a mode of revenge which he had devised. They agreed upon the measures they were to take for accomplishing their design, but deferred the execution of it till the following day. In the meantime, the night being far spent, the sultan took some rest; but the young prince passed the night as usual, without sleep, never having slept since he was enchanted.

Next morning the sultan arose with the dawn, and prepared to execute his design, by proceeding to the Palace of Tears. He found it lighted up with an infinite number of flambeaux of white wax, and perfumed by a delicious scent issuing from several censers of fine gold of admirable workmanship. As soon as he perceived the bed where the Indian lay, he drew his cimeter and deprived him of his wretched life, dragged his corpse into the court of the castle, and threw it into a well. After this he went and lay down in the black's bed, placed his cimeter under the covering, and waited to complete his design.

The queen arrived shortly after. She first went into the chamber of her husband, the king of the Black Islands, stripped him, and with unexampled barbarity gave him a hundred stripes. The unfortunate prince filled the palace with his lamentations, and conjured her in the most affecting tone to take pity on him; but the cruel wretch ceased not till she had given the usual number of blows. "You had no compassion," said she, "and you are to expect none from me."

After the enchantress had given her husband a hundred blows with the whip, she put on again his covering of goat's hair, and his brocade gown over all; she went afterward to the Palace of Tears, and as she entered renewed her tears and lamentations; then approaching the bed, where she thought the Indian lay: "Alas!" said she, addressing herself to the sultan, conceiving him to be the black, "My sun, my life, will you always be silent? Are you resolved to let me die without affording me the comfort of hearing your voice?"

The sultan, as if he had awaked out of a deep sleep, and counterfeiting the pronunciation of the blacks, answered the queen with a grave tone: "There is no strength or power but in God alone, who is almighty." At these words the enchantress, who did not expect them, uttered a loud exclamation of joy. "My dear lord," cried she, "do I not deceive myself; is it certain that I hear you, and that you speak to me?" "Unhappy woman," said the sultan, "art thou worthy that I should answer thee?" "Alas!" replied the queen, "why do you reproach me thus?" "The cries," returned the sultan, "the groans and tears of thy husband, whom thou treatest every day with so much indignity and barbarity, prevent my sleeping night or day. Hadst thou disenchanted him, I should long since have been cured, and have recovered the use of my speech. This is the cause of my silence, of which you complain." "Well," said the enchantress, "to pacify you, I am ready to execute your commands; would you have me restore him?" "Yes," replied the sultan; "make haste to set him at liberty, that I be no longer disturbed by his lamentations." The enchantress went immediately out of the Palace of Tears; she took a cup of water, and pronounced some words over it, which caused it to boil, as if it had been on the fire. She afterward proceeded to the young king, and threw the water upon him, saying: "If the Creator of all things did form thee as thou art at present, or if He be angry with thee, do not change; but if thou art in that condition merely by virtue of my enchantments, resume thy natural shape, and become what thou wast before." She had scarcely spoken these words when the prince, finding himself restored to his former condition, rose up and returned thanks to God. The enchantress then said to him, "Get thee from this castle, and never return on pain of death." The young king, yielding to necessity, went away without replying a word, and retired to a remote place, where he patiently awaited the event of the design which the sultan had so happily begun. Meanwhile the enchantress returned to the Palace of Tears, and supposing that she still spoke to the black, said, "Dear love, I have done what you required; nothing now prevents your rising and giving me the satisfaction of which I have so long been deprived."

The sultan, still counterfeiting the pronunciation of the black, said: "What you have now done is by no means sufficient for my cure; you have only removed a part of the evil; you must cut it up by the root." "My lovely black," resumed the queen, "what do you mean by the root?" "Wretched woman," replied the sultan, "understand you not that I allude to the town and its inhabitants, and the four islands, destroyed by thy enchantments? The fish every night at midnight raise their heads out of the lake, and cry for vengeance against thee and me. This is the true cause of the delay of my cure. Go speedily, restore things to their former state, and at thy return I will give thee my hand, and thou shalt help me to arise."

The enchantress, inspired with hope from these words, cried out in a transport of joy, "My heart, my soul, you shall soon be restored to your health, for I will immediately do as you command me." Accordingly she went that instant, and when she came to the brink of the lake she took a little water in her hand, and sprinkling it, she pronounced some words over the fish and the lake, and the city was immediately restored. The fish became men, women, and children; Mohammedans, Christians, Persians, or Jews; freemen or slaves, as they were before: every one having recovered his natural form. The houses and shops were immediately filled with their inhabitants, who found all things as they were before the enchantment. The sultan's numerous retinue, who found themselves encamped in the largest square, were astonished to see themselves in an instant in the middle of a large, handsome, well-peopled city.

To return to the enchantress: As soon as she had effected this wonderful change, she returned with all expedition to the Palace of Tears, that she might receive her reward. "My dear lord," cried she, as she entered, "I have done all that you required of me, then pray rise and give me your hand." "Come near," said the sultan, still counterfeiting the pronunciation of the black. She did so. "You are not near enough," he continued; "approach nearer." She obeyed. He then rose up, and seizing her by the arm so suddenly that she had not time to discover him, he with a blow of his cimeter cut her in two, so that one half fell one way and the other another. This done, he left the body on the spot, and going out of the Palace of Tears, went to seek the young king of the Black Isles, who waited for him with great impatience. When he found him, "Prince," said he, embracing him, "rejoice; you have now nothing to fear; your cruel enemy is dead."

The young prince returned thanks to the sultan in a manner that sufficiently evinced his gratitude, and in return wished him long life and happiness. "You may henceforward," said the sultan, "dwell peaceably in your capital, unless you will accompany me to mine, which is near: you shall there be welcome, and have as much honour shown you as if you were in your own kingdom." "Potent monarch, to whom I am so much indebted," replied the king, "you think, then, that you are near your capital." "Yes," said the sultan, "I know it is not above four or five hours' journey." "It will take you a whole year to return," said the prince. "I do indeed believe that you came hither from your capital in the time you mention, because mine was enchanted; but since the enchantment is taken off, things are changed: however, this shall not prevent my following you, were it to the utmost corners of the earth. You are my deliverer, and that I may give you proofs of my acknowledgment of this during my whole life, I am willing to accompany you, and to leave my kingdom without regret."

The sultan was extremely surprised to understand that he was so far from his dominions, and could not imagine how it could be, but the young king of the Black Islands convinced him beyond a possibility of doubt. Then the sultan replied: "It is no matter; the trouble of returning to my own country is sufficiently recompensed by the satisfaction of having obliged you, and by acquiring you for a son; for since you will do me the honour to accompany me, as I have no child, I look upon you as such, and from this moment appoint you my heir and successor."

The young prince then employed himself in making preparations for his journey, which were finished in three weeks, to the great regret of his court and subjects, who agreed to receive at his hands one of his nearest kindred for their monarch.

At length the sultan and the young prince began their journey, with a hundred camels laden with inestimable riches from the treasury, followed by fifty handsome gentlemen on horseback, perfectly well mounted and dressed. They had a pleasant journey; and when the sultan, who had sent couriers to give advice of his delay, and of the adventure which had occasioned it, approached his capital, the principal officers came to receive him, and to assure him that his long absence had occasioned no alteration in his empire. The inhabitants also came out in great crowds, received him with acclamations, and made public rejoicings for several days.

The day after his arrival the sultan acquainted his courtiers with his adoption of the king of the Four Black Islands, who was willing to leave a great kingdom to accompany and live with him; and in reward for their loyalty, he made each of them presents according to their rank.

As for the fisherman, as he was the first cause of the deliverance of the young prince, the sultan gave him a plentiful fortune, which made him and his family happy the rest of his days.

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THE STORY OF GULNARE OF THE SEA

There was, in olden time, and in an ancient age and period, in the land of the Persians, a king named Shahzeman, and the place of his residence was Khorassan. He had not been blest, during his whole life, with a male child nor a female; and he reflected upon this, one day, and lamented that the greater portion of his life had passed, and he had no heir to take the kingdom after him as he had inherited it from his fathers and forefathers. So the utmost grief befell him on this account.

Now while he was sitting one day, one of his mamelukes came in to him, and said to him: "O my lord, at the door is a slave-girl with a merchant: none more beautiful than she hath been seen." And he replied: "Bring to me the merchant and the slave-girl." The merchant and the slave-girl therefore came to him; and when he saw her, he found her to resemble the lance in straightness and slenderness. She was wrapped in a garment of silk embroidered with gold, and the merchant uncovered her face, whereupon the place was illuminated by her beauty, and there hung down from her forehead seven locks of hair reaching to her anklets. The King, therefore, wondered at the sight of her, and at her beauty, and her stature and justness of form; and he said to the merchant: "O sheikh, for how much is this damsel to be sold?" The merchant answered: "O my lord, I purchased her for two thousand pieces of gold of the merchant who owned her before me, and I have been for three years travelling with her, and she hath cost, to the period of her arrival at this place, three thousand pieces of gold; and she is a present from me unto thee." Upon this, the king conferred upon him a magnificent robe of honour, and gave orders to present him with ten thousand pieces of gold. So he took them, and kissed the hands of the king, thanking him for his beneficence, and departed. Then the king committed the damsel to the tirewomen, saying to them: "Amend the state of this damsel, and deck her, and furnish for her a private chamber, and take her into it." He also gave orders to his chamberlains that everything which she required should be conveyed to her. The seat of government where he resided was on the shore of the sea, and his city was called the White City. And they conducted the damsel into a private chamber, which chamber had windows overlooking the sea; and the king commanded his chamberlains to close all the doors upon her after taking to her all that she required.

The king then went in to visit the damsel; but she rose not to him, nor took any notice of him. So the king said: "It seemeth that she hath been with people who have not taught her good manners." And looking at the damsel, he saw her to be a person surpassing in loveliness, her face was like the disk of the moon at the full, or the shining sun in the clear sky; and he wondered at her beauty, extolling the perfection of God, the Creator: then the king advanced to the damsel, and seated himself by her side, pressed her to his bosom, and kissed her lips, which he found to be sweeter than honey. After this, he gave orders to bring tables of the richest viands, comprising dishes of every kind; and he ate, and put morsels into her mouth until she was satisfied; but she spoke not a single word. The king talked to her, and inquired of her her name; but she was silent, not uttering a word, nor returning him an answer, ceasing not to hang down her head toward the ground; and what protected her from the anger of the king was her beauty, and her tenderness of manner. So the king said within himself: "Extolled be the perfection of God, the Creator of this damsel! How elegant is she, saving that she doth not speak!"—Then the king asked the female slaves whether she had spoken; and they answered him: "From the time of her arrival to the present moment she hath not spoken one word, and we have not heard her talk." The king therefore caused some of them to come, and sing to her, and make merry with her, thinking that then she might perhaps speak. Accordingly the female slaves played before her with all kinds of musical instruments, and enacted sports and other performances, and they sang so that every one who was present was moved with delight, except the damsel, who looked at them and was silent, neither laughing nor speaking. So the heart of the king was contracted. He however inclined to her entirely, paying no regard to others, but relinquishing all the rest of his favourites.

He remained with her a whole year, which seemed as one day, and still she spoke not; and he said to her one day, when his passion was excessive: "O desire of souls, verily the love that I have for thee is great, and I have relinquished for thy sake all my worldly portion, and been patient with thee a whole year. I beg God that He will, in His grace, soften thy heart toward me, and that thou mayest speak to me. Or, if thou be dumb, inform me by a sign, that I may give up hope of thy speaking. I also beg of God that He will bless thee with a son that may inherit my kingdom after me; for I am solitary, having none to be my heir, and my age hath become great. I conjure thee, then, by Allah, if thou love me, that thou return me a reply." And upon this, the damsel hung her head toward the ground, meditating. Then she raised her head, and smiled in the face of the king, whereat it appeared to the king that lightning filled the private chamber; and she said: "O magnanimous King, God hath answered thy prayer; for I am about to bring thee a child, and the time is almost come. And were it not that I knew this thing, I had not spoken to thee one word." And when the king heard what she said, his face brightened up with happiness, and he kissed her hands by reason of the violence of his joy, and said: "Praise be to God who hath favoured me with things that I desired; the first, thy speaking; and the second, thy information that thou art about to bring me a child." Then the king arose and went forth from her, and seated himself upon the throne of his kingdom in a state of exceeding happiness; and he ordered the vizier to give out to the poor and the needy a hundred thousand pieces of gold as a thank-offering to God. So the vizier did as the king had commanded him. And after that, the king went in to the damsel, and embraced her, saying to her: "O my mistress, wherefore hath been this silence, seeing that thou hast been with me a whole year, awake and asleep, yet hast not spoken to me, except on this day?"

The damsel answered: "Hear, O King of the age, and know that I am a poor person, a stranger, broken-hearted: I have become separated from my mother, and my family, and my brother." And when the king heard her words, he knew her desire, and he replied: "As to thy saying that thou art poor, there is no occasion for such an assertion; for all my kingdom and possessions are at thy service, and as to thy saying, 'I have become separated from my mother and my family and my brother'—inform me in what place they are, and I will send to them, and bring them to thee." So she said to him: "Know, O King, that my name is Gulnare (Pomegranate Flower) of the Sea. My father was one of the Kings of the Sea, and he died, and left to us the kingdom; but while we were enjoying it, another of the kings came upon us, and took the kingdom from our hands. I have also a brother named Saleh, and my mother is of the women of the sea; and I quarrelled with my brother, and swore that I would throw myself into the hands of a man of the inhabitants of the land. Accordingly I came forth from the sea, and sat upon the shore of an island in the moonlight, and there passed by a man who took me and sold me to this man from whom thou tookest me, and he was an excellent, virtuous man, a person of religion and fidelity and kindness. But had not thy heart loved me, and hadst thou not preferred me above all thy wives, I had not remained with thee one hour; for I should have cast myself into the sea from this window, and gone to my mother and my people. I was ashamed, however, to go to them; for they would imagine evil of me, and would not believe me, even though I should swear to them, were I to tell them that a king had purchased me with his money, and chosen me in preference to his other wives and all that his right hand possessed. This is my story, and peace be on thee!" And when he heard her words, he thanked her, and kissed her between the eyes, and said to her: "By Allah, O my mistress, and light of my eyes, I cannot endure separation from thee for one hour; and if thou quit me, I shall die instantly. How then shall the affair be?" She answered: "O my master, the time of the birth is near, and my family must come." "And how," said the king, "do they walk in the sea without being wetted?" She answered: "We walk in the sea as ye walk upon the land, through the influence of the names engraved upon the seal of Solomon, the son of David, upon both of whom be peace! But, O King, when my family and my brethren come, I will inform them that thou boughtest me with thy money, and hast treated me with beneficence, and it will be meet that thou confirm my assertion to them. They will also see thy state with their eyes, and will know that thou art a king, the son of a king." And thereupon the king said: "O my mistress, do what seemeth fit to thee, and what thou wishest; for I will comply with thy desire in all that thou wilt do." And the damsel said: "Know, O King of the age, that we walk in the sea with our eyes open, and see what is in it, and we see the sun, and the moon, and the stars, and the sky as on the face of the earth, and this hurteth us not. Know also, that in the sea are many peoples and various forms of all the kinds that are on the land; and know, moreover, that all that is on the land, in comparison with what is in the sea, is a very small matter." And the king wondered at her words.

Then the damsel took a bit of aloes-wood and, having lighted a fire in a perfuming-vessel, threw into it that bit, and she proceeded to speak words which no one understood; whereupon a great smoke arose, while the king looked on. After this, she said to the king: "O my lord, arise and conceal thyself in a closet, that I may shew thee my brother and my mother and my family without their seeing thee; for I desire to bring them, and thou shalt see in this place, at this time, a wonder, and shalt marvel at the various shapes and strange forms that God hath created." So the king arose immediately, and entered a closet, and looked to see what she would do. And she proceeded to burn perfume and repeat spells until the sea foamed and was agitated, and there came forth from it a young man of comely form, of beautiful countenance, like the moon at the full, with shining forehead, and red cheeks, and hair resembling pearls and jewels; he was, of all the creation, the most like to his sister, and the tongue of the case itself seemed to recite in his praise these verses:--

And she proceeded to burn perfume and repeat spells until the sea foamed and was agitated.

Afterward, there came forth from the sea a grizzly-haired old woman, and with her five damsels, resembling moons and bearing a likeness to the damsel whose name was Gulnare. Then the king saw the young man and the old woman and the damsels walk upon the surface of the water until they came to Gulnare; and when they drew near to the window, and she beheld them, she rose to them and met them with joy. On their seeing her, they knew her, and they went in to her and embraced her, weeping violently; and they said to her: "O Gulnare, how is it that thou leavest us for four years, and we know not the place in which thou art? By Allah, we had no delight in food nor in drink a single day, weeping night and day on account of the excess of our longing to see thee." Then the damsel began to kiss the hand of her brother, and the hand of her mother, and so also the hands of the daughters of her uncle, and they sat with her awhile, asking her respecting her state, and the things that had happened to her, and her present condition.

So she said to them: "Know ye, that when I quitted you, and came forth from the sea, I sat upon the shore of an island, and a man took me, and sold me to a merchant, and the merchant brought me to this city, and sold me to its king for ten thousand pieces of gold. Then he treated me with attention, and forsook all his favourites for my sake, and was diverted by his regard for me from everything that he possessed and what was in his city." And when her brother heard her words, he said: "Praise be to God who hath reunited us! But it is my desire, O my sister, that thou wouldst arise and go with us to our country and our family." So when the king heard the words of her brother, his reason fled in consequence of his fear lest the damsel should accept the proposal of her kindred, and he could not prevent her, though he was inflamed with love of her; wherefore he became perplexed in violent fear of her separation. But as to the damsel Gulnare, on hearing the words of her brother she said: "By Allah, O my brother, the man who purchased me is the king of this city, and he is a great king, and a man of wisdom, generous, of the utmost liberality. He hath treated me with honour, and he is a person of kindness, and of great wealth, but hath no male child nor a female. He hath shewn me favour too, and acted well to me in every respect; and from the day when I came to him to the present time, I have not heard from him a word to grieve my heart; but he hath not ceased to treat me with courtesy, and I am living with him in the most perfect of enjoyments. Moreover, if I quitted him, he would perish: for he can never endure my separation even for a single hour. I also, if I quitted him, should die of my love for him in consequence of his kindness to me during the period of my residence with him; for if my father were living, my condition with him would not be like my condition with this great, glorious king. God (whose name be exalted!) afflicted me not, but compensated me well; and as the king hath not a male child nor a female, I beg God to bless me with a son that may inherit of this great king these palaces and possessions." And when her brother, and the daughters of her uncle, heard her words, their eyes became cheerful thereat, and they said to her: "O Gulnare, thou art acquainted with our affection for thee, and thou art assured that thou art the dearest of all persons to us, and art certain that we desire for thee comfort, without trouble or toil. Therefore if thou be not in a state of comfort, arise and accompany us to our country and our family; but if thou be comfortable here, in honour and happiness, this is our desire and wish." And Gulnare replied: "By Allah, I am in a state of the utmost enjoyment, in honour and desirable happiness." So when the king heard these words from her, he rejoiced, and he thanked her for them; his love for her penetrated to his heart's core, and he knew that she loved him as he loved her, and that she desired to remain with him to see his child which she was to bring to him.

Then the damsel Gulnare of the Sea gave orders to the female slaves to bring forward viands of all kinds; and Gulnare herself was the person who superintended the preparation of the viands in the kitchen. So the female slaves brought to them the viands, and the sweetmeats, and the fruits; and she ate with her family. But afterward they said to her: "O Gulnare, thy master is a man who is a stranger to us, and we have entered his abode without his permission, and thou praisest to us his excellence, and hast also brought to us his food, and we have eaten, but have not seen him, nor hath he seen us, nor come into our presence, nor eaten with us, that the bond of bread and salt might be established between us." And they all desisted from eating, and were enraged at her, and fire began to issue from their mouths as from cressets. So when the king beheld this, his reason fled, in consequence of the violence of his fear of them. Then Gulnare rose to them, and soothed their hearts; after which she walked along until she entered the closet in which was the king her master; and she said to him: "O my master, didst thou see, and didst thou hear my thanks to thee, and my praise of thee in the presence of my family; and didst thou hear what they said to me, that they desired to take me with them to our family and our country?" The king answered her: "I heard and saw. May God recompense thee! By Allah, I knew not the extent of the love that thou feelest for me until this blessed hour." She replied: "O my master, is the recompense of beneficence aught but beneficence? How then could my heart be happy to quit thee, and to depart from thee? Now I desire of thy goodness that thou come and salute my family, that they may see thee, and that pleasure and mutual friendship may ensue. For know, O King, that my brother and my mother and the daughters of my uncle have conceived a great love for thee in consequence of my praising thee to them, and they have said, 'We will not depart from thee to our country until we have an interview with the king, and salute him.'" And the king said to her: "I hear and obey; for this is what I desire." He then rose from his place, and went to them, and saluted them with the best salutation; and they hastened to rise to him; they met him in the most polite manner, and he sat with them in the pavilion, ate with them at the table, and remained with them for a period of thirty days. Then they desired to return to their country and abode. So they took leave of the king and Queen Gulnare of the Sea, and departed from them, after the king had treated them with the utmost honour.

After this, Gulnare gave birth to a boy, resembling the moon at the full, whereat the king experienced the utmost happiness, because he had not before been blessed with a son nor a daughter during his life. They continued the rejoicings, and the decoration of the city, for a period of seven days, in the utmost happiness and enjoyment; and on the seventh day, the mother of Gulnare, and her brother, and the daughters of her uncle, all came, when they knew that she had given birth to her child. The king met them, rejoicing at their arrival, and said to them: "I said that I would not name my son until ye should come, and that ye should name him according to your knowledge." And they named him Bedr Basim (Smiling Full Moon), all of them agreeing as to this name. They then presented the boy to his maternal uncle, Saleh, who took him upon his hands, and, rising with him from among them, walked about the palace to the right and left; after which he went forth with him from the palace, descended with him to the sea, and walked on until he became concealed from the eye of the king. So when the king saw that he had taken his son, and disappeared from him at the bottom of the sea, he despaired of him, and began to weep and wail. But Gulnare, seeing him in this state, said to him, "O King of the age, fear not nor grieve for thy son; for I love my child more than thou, and my child is with my brother; therefore fear not his being drowned. If my brother knew that any injury would betide the little one, he had not done what he hath done; and presently he will bring thee thy son safe, if it be the will of God, whose name be exalted!" And but a short time had elapsed when the sea was agitated, and the uncle of the little one came forth from it, having with him the king's son safe, and he flew from the sea until he came to them, with the little one in his arms, silent, and his face resembling the moon in the night of its fulness. Then the uncle of the little one looked toward the king, and said to him: "Perhaps thou fearedst some injury to thy son when I descended into the sea, having him with me." So he replied: "Yes, O my master, I feared for him, and I did not imagine that he would ever come forth from it safe." And Saleh said to him: "O King of the Land, we applied to his eyes a lotion that we know, and repeated over him the names engraved upon the seal of Solomon, the son of David; for when a child is born among us, we do to him as I have told thee. Fear not therefore, on his account, drowning, nor suffocation, nor all the seas if he descend into them. Like as ye walk upon the land, we walk in the sea."

He then took forth from his pocket a case, written upon, and sealed; and he broke its seal, and scattered its contents, whereupon there fell from it strung jewels, consisting of all kinds of jacinths and other gems, together with three hundred oblong emeralds, and three hundred oblong large jewels, of the size of the eggs of the ostrich, the light of which was more resplendent than the light of the sun and the moon. And he said: "O King of the age, these jewels and jacinths are a present from me unto thee; for we never brought thee a present, because we knew not the place of Gulnare's abode. So when we saw thee to have become united to her, and that we all had become one, we brought thee this present; and after every period of a few days, we will bring thee the like of it. For these jewels and jacinths with us are more plentiful than the gravel upon the land, and we know the excellent among them, and the bad, and the places where they are found, and they are easy of access to us."—And when the king looked at those jewels, his reason was confounded and his mind was bewildered, and he said: "By Allah, one of these jewels is worth my kingdom!" Then the king thanked Saleh of the Sea for his generosity, and looking toward the Queen Gulnare said to her: "I am abashed at thy brother; for he hath shewn favour to me, and presented me with this magnificent present, which the people of the earth would fail to procure." So Gulnare thanked her brother for that which he had done; but her brother said: "O King of the age, to thank thee hath been incumbent on us; for thou hast treated my sister with beneficence, and we have entered thine abode, and eaten of thy provision." Then Saleh said: "If we stood serving thee, O King of the age, a thousand years, regarding nothing else, we could not requite thee, and our doing so would be but a small thing in comparison with thy desert." And Saleh remained with the king, he and his mother and the daughters of his uncle, forty days; after which he arose and kissed the ground before the king, the husband of his sister. So the king said to him: "What dost thou desire, O Saleh?" And he answered: "O King of the age, we desire of thy goodness that thou wouldst give us permission to depart; for we have become desirous of seeing again our family and our country and our relations and our homes. We will not, however, relinquish the service of thee, nor that of my sister nor the son of my sister; and by Allah, O King of the age, to quit you is not pleasant to my heart; but how can we act, when we have been reared in the sea, and the land is not agreeable to us?" So when the king heard his words, he rose upon his feet, and bade farewell to Saleh of the Sea and his mother and the daughters of his uncle, and they wept together on account of the separation. Then they said to the king: "We will never relinquish you, but after every period of a few days we will visit you." And after this, they flew toward the sea, and descended into it, and disappeared.

The king treated Gulnare with beneficence, and honoured her exceedingly, and the little one grew up well; and his maternal uncle, with his grandmother and the daughters of his uncle, after every period of a few days used to come to the residence of the king, and to remain with him a month, and then return to their places. The boy ceased not to increase in beauty and loveliness until his age became fifteen years; and he was incomparable in his perfect beauty, and his stature and his justness of form. He had learned writing and reading, and history and grammar and philology, and archery; and he learned to play with the spear; and he also learned horsemanship, and all that the sons of the kings required. There was not one of the children of the inhabitants of the city, men and women, that talked not of the charms of that young man; for he was of surpassing loveliness and perfection; and the king loved him greatly. Then the king summoned the vizier and the emeers, and the lords of the empire, and the great men of the kingdom, and made them swear by binding oaths that they would make Bedr Basim king over them after his father; so they swore to him by binding oaths, and rejoiced thereat; and the king himself was beneficent to the people, courteous in speech and of auspicious aspect. And on the following day, the king mounted, together with the lords of the empire and all the emeers, and all the soldiers, and they ceased not to proceed until they arrived at the vestibule of the palace; the king's son riding. Thereupon he alighted, and his father embraced him, he and the emeers, and they seated him upon the throne of the kingdom, while his father stood, as also did the emeers, before him. Then Bedr Basim judged the people, displaced the tyrannical and invested the just, and continued to give judgment until near midday, when he rose from the throne of the kingdom, and went in to his mother, Gulnare of the Sea, having upon his head the crown, and resembling the moon. So when his mother saw him, and the king before him, she rose to him and kissed him, and congratulated him on his elevation to the dignity of sultan; and she offered up a prayer in favour of him and his father for length of life, and victory over their enemies. He then sat with his mother and rested; and when the time of afternoon-prayers arrived, he rode with the emeers before him until he came to the horse-course, where he played with arms till the time of nightfall, together with his father and the lords of his empire; after which he returned to the palace, with all the people before him. Every day he used to ride to the horse-course; and when he returned, he sat to judge the people, and administered justice between the emeer and the poor man. He ceased not to do thus for a whole year; and after that, he used to ride to the chase, and go about through the cities and provinces that were under his rule making proclamation of safety and security, and doing as do the kings; and he was incomparable among the people of his age in glory and courage, and in justice to the people.

Now it came to pass that the old king, the father of Bedr Basim, fell sick one day, whereupon his heart throbbed, and he felt that he was about to be removed to the mansion of eternity. Then his malady increased so that he was at the point of death. He therefore summoned his son, and charged him to take care of his subjects and his mother and all the lords of his empire and all the dependants. He also made them swear, and covenanted with them a second time, that they would obey his son; and he confided in their oaths. And after this he remained a few days, and was admitted to the mercy of God, whose name be exalted! His son Bedr Basim, and his wife Gulnare and the emeers and viziers and the lords of the empire, mourned over him; and they made for him a tomb, and buried him in it, and continued the ceremonies of mourning for him a whole month. Saleh, the brother of Gulnare, and her mother, and the daughters of her uncle, also came, and consoled them for the loss of the king; and they said: "O Gulnare, if the king hath died, he hath left this ingenuous youth, and he who hath left such as he is hath not died. This is he who hath not an equal, the crushing lion, and the splendid moon." Then the lords of the empire, and the grandees, went in to the King Bedr Basim, and said to him: "O King, there is no harm in mourning for the king; but mourning becometh not any save women; therefore trouble not thy heart and ours by mourning for thy father; for he hath died and left thee, and he who hath left such as thou art hath not died." They proceeded to address him with soft words, and to console him, and after that they conducted him into the bath; and when he came forth from the bath, he put on a magnificent suit woven of gold, adorned with jewels and jacinths, and he put the royal crown upon his head, seated himself upon the throne of his kingdom, and performed the affairs of the people, deciding equitably between the strong and the weak, and exacting for the poor man his due from the emeer; wherefore the people loved him exceedingly. Thus he continued to do for the space of a whole year; and after every short period, his family of the sea visited him; so his life was pleasant, and his eye was cheerful: and he ceased not to live in this state until he was visited by the terminator of delights and the separator of companions. This is the end of their story. The mercy of God be on them all!

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THE STORY OF ALADDIN; OR, THE WONDERFUL LAMP

In the capital of one of the large and rich provinces of the kingdom of China there lived a tailor, named Mustapha, who was so poor that he could hardly, by his daily labour, maintain himself and his family, which consisted of a wife and son.

His son, who was called Aladdin, had been brought up in a very careless and idle manner, and by that means had contracted many vicious habits. He was obstinate, and disobedient to his father and mother, who, when he grew up, could not keep him within doors. He was in the habit of going out early in the morning, and would stay out all day, playing in the streets with idle children of his own age.

When he was old enough to learn a trade, his father, not being able to put him out to any other, took him into his own shop, and taught him how to use his needle: but neither fair words nor the fear of chastisement were capable of fixing his lively genius. All his father's endeavours to keep him to his work were in 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 at not being able to reclaim him, that it threw him into a fit of sickness, of which he died in a few months.

The mother, finding that her son would not follow his father's business, shut up the shop, sold off the implements of trade, and with the money she received for them, and what she could get by spinning cotton, thought to maintain herself and her son.

Aladdin, who was now no longer restrained by the fear of a father, and who cared so little for his mother that whenever she chid him he would abuse her, 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. In this situation, as he was one day playing with his vagabond associates, a stranger passing by stood to observe him.

This stranger was a sorcerer, called the African magician; as he was a native of Africa, and had been but two days arrived from thence.

The African magician, who was a good physiognomist, observing in Aladdin's countenance something absolutely necessary for the execution of the design he was engaged in, inquired artfully about his family, who he was, and what were his inclinations; 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. Aladdin, who observed his tears, asked him what made him weep. "Alas! my son," cried the African magician with a sigh, "how can I forbear? I am your uncle; your worthy father was my own brother. I have been many years abroad, and now I am come home with the hopes of seeing him, you tell me he is dead. But it is some relief to my affliction, that I knew you at first sight, you are so like him." Then he asked Aladdin, putting his hand into his purse, where his mother lived, and as soon as he had informed him, gave him 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 have the satisfaction of seeing where my good brother lived so long."

As soon as the African magician left his newly-adopted nephew, 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 on my father's side. He cried and kissed me when I told him my father was dead; and to show you that what I tell you is truth," added he, pulling out the money, "see what he has given me; he charged me to give his love to you, and to tell you that to-morrow he will 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 a brother, but he has been dead a long time, and I never heard of another."

The mother and son talked no more then of the African magician; but the next day Aladdin's uncle found him playing in another part of the town with other youths, and embracing him as before, put two pieces of gold into his hand, and said to him: "Carry this, child, to your mother, tell her that I will come and see her to-night, and bid her get us something for supper; but first show me the house where you live."

After Aladdin had showed the African magician the house, he carried the two pieces of gold to his mother, and when he had told her of his uncle's intention, she went out and bought provisions. She spent the whole day in preparing the supper; and at night, when it was ready, said to her son: "Perhaps your uncle knows not how to find our house; go and bring him if you meet with him."

Though Aladdin had showed the magician the house, he was ready to go, when somebody knocked at the door, which he immediately opened; and the magician came in loaded with wine, and all sorts of fruits, which he brought for a dessert.

After the African magician had given what he brought into Aladdin's hands, he saluted his mother, and desired her to shew him the place where his brother Mustapha used to sit on the sofa; and when she had so done, he fell down and kissed it several times, crying out with tears in his eyes: "My poor brother! how unhappy am I, not to have come soon enough to give you one last embrace." Aladdin's mother desired him to sit down in the same place, but he declined. "No," said he, "but give me leave to sit opposite, that although I am deprived of the satisfaction of seeing one so dear to me, I may at least have the pleasure of beholding the place where he used to sit."

When the magician had sat down, he began to enter into discourse with Aladdin's mother: "My good sister," said he, "do not be surprised at your never having seen me all the time you were married to my brother Mustapha. I have been forty years absent from this country, which is my native place, as well as my late brother's; and during that time have travelled into the Indies, Persia, Arabia, Syria, and Egypt; have resided in the finest towns of those countries; and afterward crossed over into Africa, where I made a longer stay. At last, as it is natural for a man to remember his native country, I was desirous to see mine again, and to embrace my dear brother; and finding I had strength enough to undertake so long a journey, I immediately made the necessary preparations, and set out. I will not tell you the length of time it took me, all the obstacles I met with, and what fatigues I have endured to come hither; but nothing ever afflicted me so much, as hearing of my brother's death. I observed his features in the face of my nephew, your son, and distinguished him among a number of lads with whom he was at play; he can tell you how I received the most melancholy news that ever reached my ears. But God be praised for all things! it is a comfort for me to find, as it were, my brother in a son, who has his most remarkable features."

The African magician, perceiving that the widow began to weep at the remembrance of her husband, changed the conversation, and turning toward her son, asked him his name. "I am called Aladdin," said he. "Well, Aladdin," replied the magician, "what business do you follow? Are you of any trade?"

At this question the youth hung down his head, and was not a little abashed when his mother answered: "Aladdin is an idle fellow; his father, when alive, strove all he could to teach him his trade, but could not succeed; and since his death he does nothing but idle away his time in the streets, as you saw him, without considering he is no longer a child; and if you do not make him ashamed of it, I despair of his ever coming to any good. He knows that his father left him no fortune, and sees me endeavour to get bread by spinning cotton; for my part, I am resolved one of these days to turn him out of doors, and let him provide for himself."

After these words, Aladdin's mother burst into tears; and the magician said: "This is not well, nephew; you must think of getting your livelihood. There are many sorts of trades, consider if you have not an inclination to some of them; perhaps you did not like your father's and would prefer another; come, do not disguise your sentiments from me; I will endeavour to help you." But finding that Aladdin returned no answer, "If you have no mind," continued he, "to learn any handicraft, I will take a shop for you, furnish it with all sorts of fine stuffs and linens; and with the money you make of them lay in fresh goods, and then you will live in an honourable way. Consult your inclination, and tell me freely what you think of my proposal."

This plan greatly flattered Aladdin, who hated work but had sense enough to know that such shops were much frequented and the owners respected. He told the magician he had a greater inclination to that business than to any other, and that he should be much obliged to him for his kindness. "Since this profession is agreeable to you," said the African magician, "I will carry you with me to-morrow, clothe you as handsomely as the best merchants in the city, and afterward we will think of opening a shop as I mentioned."

The widow, who never till then could believe that the magician was her husband's brother, no longer doubted after his promises of kindness to her son. She thanked him for his good intentions; and after having exhorted Aladdin to render himself worthy of his uncle's favour by good behaviour, served up supper, at which they talked of several indifferent matters; and then the magician, who saw that the night was pretty far advanced, took his leave, and retired.

He came again the next day, as he had promised, and took Aladdin with him to a merchant, who sold all sorts of clothes for different ages and ranks ready made, and a variety of fine stuffs. He asked to see some that suited Aladdin in size; and Aladdin, charmed with the liberality of his new uncle, made choice of one, and the magician immediately paid for it.

When the boy found himself so handsomely equipped, he returned his uncle thanks; who promised never to forsake him, but always to take him along with him; which he did to the most frequented places in the city, and particularly where the principal merchants kept their shops. When he brought him into the street where they sold the richest stuffs and finest linens, he said to Aladdin: "As you are soon to be a merchant, it is proper you should frequent these shops, and be acquainted with them." He then showed him the largest and finest mosques, carried him to the khans or inns where the merchants and travellers lodged, and afterward to the sultan's palace, where he had free access; and at last brought him to his own khan, where, meeting with some merchants he had become acquainted with since his arrival, he gave them a treat, to bring them and his pretended nephew acquainted.

This entertainment lasted till night, when Aladdin would have taken leave of his uncle to go home, but the magician would not let him go by himself, but conducted him to his mother, who, as soon as she saw him so well dressed, was transported with joy, and bestowed a thousand blessings upon the magician, for being at so great an expense for her child. "Generous relation!" said she, "I know not how to thank you for your liberality! I wish you may live long enough to witness my son's gratitude, which he cannot better shew than by regulating his conduct by your good advice."

"Aladdin," replied the magician, "is a good boy, and I believe we shall do very well; but I am sorry for one thing, which is, that I cannot perform to-morrow what I promised, because, as it is Friday, the shops will be shut up, and therefore we cannot hire or furnish one till Saturday. I will, however, call on him to-morrow and take him to walk in the gardens, where people of the best fashion generally resort. Perhaps he has never seen these amusements, he has only hitherto been among children; but now he must see men." The African magician then took his leave of the mother and the son, and retired.

Aladdin rose early the next morning, dressed himself to be ready, and after he had waited some time began to be impatient and stood watching at the door; but as soon as he perceived his uncle coming, he told his mother, took his leave of her, and ran to meet him.

The magician caressed Aladdin, and said: "Come, my dear child, and I will shew you fine things." He then led him out at one of the gates of the city, to some magnificent palaces, to each of which belonged beautiful gardens, into which anybody might enter. At every building he came to, he asked Aladdin if he did not think it fine; and the youth was ready to answer when any one presented itself, crying out: "Here is a finer house, uncle, than any we have seen yet." By this artifice, the cunning magician led Aladdin some way into the country; and as he meant to carry him farther, pretending to be tired, he took an opportunity to sit down in one of the gardens on the brink of a fountain of clear water, which discharged itself by a lion's mouth of bronze into a basin: "Come, nephew," said he, "you must be weary as well as I; let us rest ourselves, and we shall be better able to pursue our walk."

After they had sat down, the magician pulled from his girdle a handkerchief with cakes and fruit, which he had provided, and laid them on the edge of the basin. He broke a cake in two, gave one half to Aladdin and ate the other himself; and in regard to the fruit, left him at liberty to take which sort he liked best. During this short repast, he exhorted his nephew to leave off keeping company with vagabonds, and seek that of wise and prudent men, to improve by their conversation; "For," said he, "you will soon be at man's estate, and you cannot too early begin to imitate their example." When they had eaten as much as they liked, they pursued their walk through gardens separated from one another only by small ditches, which marked out the limits without interrupting the communication; so great was the confidence the inhabitants reposed in each other. By this means, the African magician drew Aladdin insensibly beyond the gardens, and crossed the country, till they nearly reached the mountains.

Aladdin, who had never been so far before, began to find himself much tired, and said to the magician: "Where are we going, uncle? We have left the gardens a great way behind us, and I see nothing but mountains; if we go much farther, I do not know whether I shall be able to reach the town again!" "Never fear, nephew," said the false uncle; "I will shew you another garden which surpasses all we have yet seen; and when we come there, you will say that you would have been sorry to have been so nigh, and not seen it." Aladdin was soon persuaded; and the magician, to make the way seem shorter and less fatiguing, told him a great many stories.

At last they arrived between two mountains of moderate height, and equal size, divided by a narrow valley, which was the place where the magician intended to execute the design that had brought him from Africa to China. "We will go no farther now," said he to Aladdin: "I will shew you here some extraordinary things, which, when you have seen, you will thank me for: but while I strike a light, gather up all the loose dry sticks you can see, to kindle a fire with."

Aladdin collected a great heap and the magician presently set them on fire, and when they were in a blaze, threw in some incense which raised a cloud of smoke. This he dispersed on each side, by pronouncing several magical words which the lad did not understand.

At the same time the earth, trembling, opened just before the magician, and uncovered a stone, laid horizontally, with a brass ring fixed into the middle. Aladdin was so frightened at what he saw, that he would have run away; but the magician caught hold of him, abused him, and gave him such a box on the ear that he knocked him down. Aladdin got up trembling, and with tears in his eyes, said to the magician: "What have I done, uncle, to be treated in this severe manner?" "I have my reasons," answered the magician; "I am your uncle, I supply the place of your father, and you ought to make no reply. But, child," added he, softening, "do not be afraid; for I shall not ask anything of you, but that you obey me punctually, if you would reap the advantages which I intend you." These fair promises calmed Aladdin's fears and resentment; and when the magician saw that he was appeased, he said to him: "You see what I have done by virtue of my incense, and the words I pronounced. Know then, that under this stone there is hidden a treasure, destined to be yours, and which will make you richer than the greatest monarch in the world: no person but yourself is permitted to lift this stone, or enter the cave; so you must punctually execute what I may command, for it is a matter of great consequence both to you and me."

At the same time the earth, trembling, opened just before the magician, and uncovered a stone, laid horizontally, with a brass ring fixed into the middle.

Aladdin, amazed at all he saw and heard the magician say of the treasure which was to make him happy forevermore, forgot what was past, and rising, said: "Well, uncle, what is to be done? Command me, I am ready to obey." "I am overjoyed, child," said the African magician, embracing him; "take hold of the ring, and lift up that stone." "Indeed, uncle," replied Aladdin, "I am not strong enough; you must help me." "You have no occasion for my assistance," answered the magician; "if I help you, we shall be able to do nothing; take hold of the ring, pronounce the names of your father and grandfather, then lift it up, and you will find it will come easily." Aladdin did as the magician bade him, raised the stone with ease, and laid it on one side.

When the stone was pulled up, there appeared a cavity of about three or four feet deep, with a little door, and steps to go down lower. "Observe, my son," said the African magician, "what I direct. Descend into the cave, and when you are at the bottom of those steps you will find a door which will lead you into a spacious vault, divided into three great halls, in each of which you will see four large brass cisterns placed on each side, full of gold and silver; but take care you do not meddle with them. Before you enter the first hall, be sure to tuck up your vest, wrap it about you, and then pass through the second into the third without stopping. Above all, have a care that you do not touch the walls; for if you do, you will die instantly. At the end of the third hall, you will find a door which opens into a garden planted with fine trees loaded with fruit; walk directly across the garden by a path which will lead you to five steps that will bring you upon a terrace, where you will see a niche before you, and in that niche a lighted lamp. Take the lamp down, and extinguish it: when you have thrown away the wick, and poured out the liquor, put it in your vestband and bring it to me. Do not be afraid that the liquor will spoil your clothes, for it is not oil; and the lamp will be dry as soon as it is thrown out. If you should wish for any of the fruit of the garden, you may gather as much as you please."

After these words, the magician drew a ring off his finger, and put it on one of Aladdin's, telling him that it was a preservative against all evil, while he should observe what he had prescribed to him. After this instruction he said: "Go down boldly, child, and we shall both be rich all our lives."

Aladdin jumped into the cave, descended the steps, and found the three halls just as the African magician had described. He went through them with all the precaution the fear of death could inspire; crossed the garden without stopping, took down the lamp from the niche, threw out the wick and the liquor, and, as the magician had desired, put it in his vestband. But as he came down from the terrace, he stopped in the garden to observe the fruit, which he only had a glimpse of in crossing it. All the trees were loaded with extraordinary fruit, of different colours on each tree. Some bore fruit entirely white, and some clear and transparent as crystal; some pale red, and others deeper; some green, blue, and purple, and others yellow: in short, there was fruit of all colours. The white were pearls; the clear and transparent, diamonds; the deep red, rubies; the green, emeralds; the blue, turquoises; the purple, amethysts; and those that were of yellow cast, sapphires. Aladdin was altogether ignorant of their worth, and would have preferred figs and grapes, or any other fruits. But though he took them only for coloured glass of little value, yet he was so pleased with the variety of the colours, and the beauty and extraordinary size of the seeming fruit, that he resolved to gather some of every sort; and accordingly filled the two new purses his uncle had bought for him with his clothes. Some he wrapped up in the skirts of his vest, which was of silk, large and full, and he crammed his bosom as full as it could hold.

Aladdin, having thus loaded himself with riches, returned through the three halls with the same precaution, made all the haste he could, that he might not make his uncle wait, and soon arrived at the mouth of the cave, where the African magician expected him with the utmost impatience. As soon as Aladdin saw him, he cried out: "Pray, uncle, lend me your hand, to help me out." "Give me the lamp first," replied the magician; "it will be troublesome to you." "Indeed, uncle," answered Aladdin, "I cannot now; it is not troublesome to me: but I will as soon as I am up." The African magician was so obstinate, that he would have the lamp before he would help him up; and Aladdin, who had encumbered himself so much with his fruit that he could not well get at it, refused to give it to him till he was out of the cave. The African magician, provoked at this obstinate refusal, flew into a passion, threw a little of his incense into the fire, which he had taken care to keep in, and no sooner pronounced two magical words, than the stone which had closed the mouth of the cave moved into its place, with the earth over it in the same manner as it lay at the arrival of the magician and Aladdin.

This action of the African magician's plainly shewed him to be neither Aladdin's uncle, nor Mustapha the tailor's brother; but a true African. Africa is a country whose inhabitants delight most in magic of any in the whole world, and he had applied himself to it from his youth. After forty years' experience in enchantments and reading of magic books, he had found out that there was in the world a wonderful lamp, the possession of which would render him more powerful than any monarch; and by a late operation of geomancy, he had discovered that this lamp lay concealed in a subterranean place in the midst of China. Fully persuaded of the truth of this discovery, he set out from the farthest part of Africa; and after a long and fatiguing journey came to the town nearest to this treasure. But though he had a certain knowledge of the place where the lamp was, he was not permitted to take it himself, nor to enter the subterranean place, but must receive it from the hands of another person. For this reason he had addressed himself to Aladdin, whom he looked upon as a lad fit to serve his purpose, resolving, as soon as he should get the lamp into his hands, to sacrifice him to his avarice and wickedness, by making the fumigation mentioned before, and repeating two magical words, the effect of which would remove the stone into its place, so that no witness would remain of the transaction.

The blow he had given Aladdin was intended to make him obey the more readily, and give him the lamp as soon as he should ask for it. But his too great precipitation, and his fear lest somebody should come that way and discover what he wished to keep secret, produced an effect quite contrary to what he had proposed.

When the African magician saw that all his hopes were frustrated forever, he returned the same day for Africa; but went quite round the town, and at some distance from it, lest some persons who had observed him walk out with the boy, on seeing him come back without him, should entertain suspicions, and stop him.

According to all appearances, there was no prospect of Aladdin being heard of any more. But the magician, when he had contrived his death, forgot the ring he had put upon his finger, which preserved him, though he knew not its virtue. It may seem astonishing that the loss of that, together with the lamp, did not drive the magician to despair; but magicians are so much used to misfortunes that they do not lay them to heart, but still feed themselves, to the end of life, with unsubstantial notions and chimeras.

The surprise of Aladdin, who had never suspected this treachery from his pretended uncle, is more easily to be imagined than expressed. When he found himself buried alive, he cried, and called out to his uncle, to tell him he was ready to give him the lamp; but in vain, since his cries could not be heard. He descended to the bottom of the steps, with a design to get into the garden, but the door, which was opened before by enchantment, was now shut by the same means. He then redoubled his cries, sat down on the steps, without any hopes of ever seeing light again, and in a melancholy certainty of passing from the present darkness into that of a speedy death.

Aladdin remained in this state two days, without eating or drinking, and on the third looked upon death as inevitable. Clasping his hands with resignation to the will of God, he said: "There is no strength or power but in the great and high God." In joining his hands he rubbed the ring which the magician had put on his finger, and of which he knew not yet the virtue. Immediately a genie of enormous size and frightful aspect rose out of the earth, his head reaching the roof of the vault, and said to him: "What wouldst thou have? I am ready to obey thee as the slave of all who may possess the ring on thy finger; I, and the other slaves of that ring."

At another time, Aladdin, who had not been used to such appearances, would have been so frightened at the sight of so extraordinary a figure that he would not have been able to speak; but the danger he was in made him answer without hesitation: "Whoever thou art, deliver me from this place, if thou art able." He had no sooner spoken these words, than he found himself on the very spot where the magician had caused the earth to open.

It was some time before his eyes could bear the light, after being so long in total darkness: but after he had endeavoured by degrees to support it, and began to look about him, he was much surprised not to find the earth open, and could not comprehend how he had got so soon out of its bowels. There was nothing to be seen but the place where the fire had been, by which he could nearly judge the situation of the cave. Then turning himself toward the town, he perceived it at a distance in the midst of the gardens that surrounded it, and saw the way by which the magician had brought him. Returning God thanks to find himself once more in the world, he made the best of his way home. When he got within his mother's door, the joy of seeing her and his weakness for want of food for three days made him faint, and he remained for a long time as dead. His mother, who had given him over for lost, seeing him in this condition, omitted nothing to bring him to himself. As soon as he recovered, the first words he spoke were: "Pray, mother, give me something to eat, for I have not put a morsel of anything into my mouth these three days." His mother brought what she had, and set it before him. "My son," said she, "be not too eager, for it is dangerous; eat but little at a time, and take care of yourself. Besides, I would not have you talk; you will have time enough to tell me what has happened to you when you are recovered. It is a great comfort to me to see you again, after the affliction I have been in since Friday, and the pains I have taken to learn what was become of you."

Aladdin took his mother's advice, and ate and drank moderately. When he had done, "Mother," said he to her, "I cannot help complaining of you, for abandoning me so easily to the discretion of a man who had a design to kill me, and who at this very moment thinks my death certain. You believed he was my uncle, as well as I; and what other thoughts could we entertain of a man who was so kind to me? but I must tell you, mother, he is a rogue and a cheat, and only made me those promises to accomplish my death; but for what reason neither you nor I can guess. You shall judge yourself, when you have heard all that passed from the time I left you, till he came to the execution of his wicked design."

Aladdin then related to his mother all that had happened to him, from the Friday when the magician took him to see the palaces and gardens about the town, till they came to the place between the two mountains where the great deed was to be performed; how, with incense which the magician threw into the fire, and some magical words which he pronounced, the earth opened, and discovered a cave, which led to an inestimable treasure. He did not forget the blow the magician had given him, and in what manner he softened again, and engaged him by great promises, and putting a ring on his finger, to go down into the cave. He did not omit the least circumstance of what he saw in crossing the three halls and the garden, and his taking the lamp, which he pulled out of his bosom and shewed to his mother: as well as the transparent fruit of different colours, which he had gathered in the garden as he returned. But, though these fruits were precious stones, brilliant as the sun, she was as ignorant of their worth as her son. She had been bred in a low rank of life, and her husband's poverty prevented his being possessed of jewels, nor had she, her relations, or neighbours ever seen any; so that we must not wonder that she regarded them as things of no value.

Aladdin put them behind one of the cushions of the sofa, and continued his story. When he had come to an end, Aladdin said to his mother: "I need say no more! this is my adventure, and the dangers I have been exposed to since you saw me."

His mother heard with much interest this surprising relation, notwithstanding it could be no small affliction to a mother who loved her son tenderly; but yet in the most moving part, which discovered the perfidy of the African magician, she could not help showing, by marks of the greatest indignation, how much she detested him; and when her son had finished his story, she broke out into a thousand reproaches against that vile impostor. She called him perfidious traitor, barbarian, assassin, deceiver, magician, and an enemy and destroyer of mankind. "Without doubt, child," added she, "he is a magician, and they are plagues to the world, and by their enchantments and sorceries have commerce with the devil. Bless God for preserving you from his wicked designs; for your death would have been inevitable, if you had not called upon Him, and implored His assistance." She said a great deal more against the magician's treachery; but finding that whilst she talked, Aladdin began to doze, she left him to his repose, and retired.

Aladdin, who had not closed his eyes while he was in the subterranean abode, slept very soundly till late the next morning; when the first thing he said to his mother was, that he wanted something to eat, and that she could not do him a greater kindness than to give him his breakfast. "Alas! child," said she, "I have not a bit of bread to give you, you ate up all the provisions I had in the house yesterday; but have a little patience, and it shall not be long before I will bring you some: I have a little cotton, which I have spun; I will go and sell it, buy bread, and something for our dinner." "Mother," replied Aladdin, "keep your cotton for another time, and give me the lamp I brought home with me yesterday; I will go and sell it, and the money I shall get for it will serve both for breakfast and dinner, and perhaps supper too."

Aladdin's mother took the lamp, and said to her son: "Here it is, but it is very dirty; if it was a little cleaner I believe it would bring something more." She took some fine sand and water to clean it; but had no sooner begun to rub it, than in an instant a hideous genie of gigantic size appeared before her, and said to her in a voice like thunder: "What wouldst thou have? I am ready to obey thee as thy slave, and the slave of all those who have that lamp in their hands; I and the other slaves of the lamp."

Aladdin's mother, terrified at the sight of the genie, fainted; when the lad, who had seen such another phantom in the cavern, snatched the lamp out of his mother's hand, and said to the genie boldly: "I am hungry, bring me something to eat." The genie disappeared immediately, and in an instant returned with a large silver tray, holding twelve covered dishes of the same metal, which contained the most delicious viands; six large white bread-cakes on two plates, two flagons of wine, and two silver cups. All these he placed upon a carpet, and disappeared: this was done before Aladdin's mother recovered from her swoon.

Aladdin fetched some water, and sprinkled it in her face, to recover her: whether that or the smell of the meat brought her to life again, it was not long before she came to herself. "Mother," said Aladdin, "do not mind this; here is what will put you in heart, and at the same time satisfy my extreme hunger: do not let such delicious meat get cold."

His mother was much surprised to see the great tray, twelve dishes, six loaves, the two flagons and cups, and to smell the savoury odour which exhaled from the dishes. "Child," said she, "to whom are we obliged for this great plenty and liberality; has the sultan been made acquainted with our poverty, and had compassion on us?" "It is no matter, mother," said Aladdin; "let us sit down and eat, for you have almost as much need of breakfast as myself; when we have done, I will tell you." Accordingly, both mother and son sat down, and ate with the better relish as the table was so well furnished. But all the time Aladdin's mother could not forbear looking at and admiring the dishes, though she could not judge whether they were silver or any other metal, and the novelty more than the value attracted her attention.

The mother and son sat at breakfast till it was dinner-time, and then they thought it would be best to put the two meals together; yet after this they found they should have enough left for supper, and two meals for the next day.

When Aladdin's mother had taken away what was left, she went and sat by her son on the sofa, saying: "I expect now that you should satisfy my impatience, and tell me exactly what passed between the genie and you while I was in a swoon;" which he readily complied with.

She was in as great amazement at what her son told her, as at the appearance of the genie; and said to him: "But, son, what have we to do with genies? I never heard that any of my acquaintance had ever seen one. How came that vile genie to address himself to me, and not to you, to whom he had appeared before in the cave?" "Mother," answered Aladdin, "the genie you saw is not the one who appeared to me, though he resembles him in size; no, they had quite different persons and habits; they belong to different masters. If you remember, he that I first saw called himself the slave of the ring on my finger; and this you saw, called himself the slave of the lamp you had in your hand: but I believe you did not hear him, for I think you fainted as soon as he began to speak."

"What!" cried the mother, "was your lamp then the occasion of that cursed genie's addressing himself rather to me than to you? Ah! my son, take it out of my sight, and put it where you please. I will never touch it. I had rather you would sell it, than run the hazard of being frightened to death again by touching it: and if you would take my advice, you would part also with the ring, and not have anything to do with genies, who, as our prophet has told us, are only devils."

"With your leave, mother," replied Aladdin, "I shall take care how I sell a lamp which may be so serviceable both to you and me. Have you not been an eye-witness of what it has procured us? and it shall still continue to furnish us with subsistence. My false and wicked uncle would not have taken so much pains, and undertaken so long a journey, if it had not been to get into his possession this wonderful lamp, which he preferred before all the gold and silver which he knew was in the halls. He knew too well the worth of this lamp, not to prefer it to so great a treasure; and since chance hath discovered the virtue of it to us, let us make a profitable use of it, without making any great show, and exciting the envy and jealousy of our neighbours. However, since the genies frighten you so much, I will take it out of your sight, and put it where I may find it when I want it. The ring I cannot resolve to part with; for without that you had never seen me again; and though I am alive now, perhaps, if it was gone, I might not be so some moments hence; therefore I hope you will give me leave to keep it, and to wear it always on my finger. Who knows what dangers you and I may be exposed to, which neither of us can foresee, and from which it may deliver us?" As Aladdin's arguments were just, his mother had nothing to say against them; she only replied, that he might do what he pleased; for her part, she would have nothing to do with genies, but would wash her hands of them.

By the next night they had eaten all the provisions the genie had brought: and the next day Aladdin, who could not bear the thought of hunger, putting one of the silver dishes under his vest, went out early to sell it, and addressing himself to a Jew whom he met in the streets, took him aside, and pulling out the plate, asked him if he would buy it. The cunning Jew took the dish, examined it, and as soon as he found that it was good silver, asked Aladdin at how much he valued it. Aladdin, who knew not its value, and never had been used to such traffic, told him he would trust to his judgment and honour. The Jew was somewhat confounded at this plain dealing; and doubting whether Aladdin understood the material or the full value of what he offered to sell, took a piece of gold out of his purse and gave it to him, though it was but the sixtieth part of the worth of the plate. Aladdin, taking the money very eagerly, retired with so much haste, that the Jew, not content with the exorbitancy of his profit, was vexed he had not penetrated into his ignorance, and was going to run after him, to endeavour to get some change out of the piece of gold; but the lad ran so fast, and had got so far, that it would have been impossible for him to overtake him.

Before Aladdin went home, he called at a baker's, bought some cakes of bread, changed his money, and on his return gave the rest to his mother, who went and purchased provisions enough to last them some time. After this manner they lived, till Aladdin had sold the twelve dishes singly, as necessity pressed, to the Jew, for the same money; who, after the first time, durst not offer him less, for fear of losing so good a bargain. When he had sold the last dish, he had recourse to the tray, which weighed ten times as much as the dishes, and would have carried it to his old purchaser, but that it was too large and cumbersome; therefore he was obliged to bring him home with him to his mother's, where, after the Jew had examined the weight of the tray, he laid down ten pieces of gold, with which Aladdin was very well satisfied.

They lived on these ten pieces in a frugal manner, for Aladdin, though formerly used to an idle life, had left off playing with young lads of his own age ever since his adventure with the African magician. He spent his time in walking about, and conversing with decent people, with whom he gradually got acquainted. Sometimes he would stop at the principal merchants' shops, where people of distinction met, and listen to their discourse, by which he gained some little knowledge of the world.

When all the money was spent, Aladdin had recourse again to the lamp. He took it in his hand, looked for the part where his mother had rubbed it with the sand, and rubbed it also, when the genie immediately appeared, and said: "What wouldst thou have? I am ready to obey thee as thy slave, and the slave of all those who have that lamp in their hands; I, and the other slaves of the lamp." "I am hungry," said Aladdin; "bring me something to eat." The genie disappeared, and presently returned with a tray, and the same number of covered dishes as before, set them down, and vanished.

Aladdin's mother, knowing what her son was going to do, went out about some business, on purpose to avoid being in the way when the genie came; and when she returned, was almost as much surprised as before at the prodigious effect of the lamp. However, she sat down with her son, and when they had eaten as much as they liked, she set enough by to last them two or three days.

As soon as Aladdin found that their provisions were expended, he took one of the dishes, and went to look for his Jew again; but passing by the shop of a goldsmith, who had the character of a very fair and honest man, the goldsmith perceiving him, called to him, and said: "My lad, I have often observed you go by, loaded as you are at present, and talk with such a Jew, and then come back again empty-handed. I imagine that you carry something which you sell to him; but perhaps you do not know that he is the greatest rogue even among the Jews, and that nobody of prudence will have anything to do with him. If you will shew me what you now carry, and it is to be sold, I will give you the full worth of it; or I will direct you to other merchants who will not cheat you."

The hopes of getting more money for his plate induced Aladdin to pull it from under his vest, and shew it to the goldsmith, who at first sight saw that it was made of the finest silver and asked him if he had sold such as that to the Jew, when Aladdin told him that he had sold him twelve such, for a piece of gold each. "What a villain!" cried the goldsmith; "but," added he, "my son, what is past cannot be recalled. By shewing you the value of this plate, which is of the finest silver we use in our shops, I will let you see how much the Jew has cheated you."

The goldsmith took a pair of scales, weighed the dish, and after he had mentioned how much an ounce of fine silver was worth, assured him that his plate would fetch by weight sixty pieces of gold, which he offered to pay down immediately. "If you dispute my honesty," said he, "you may go to any other of our trade, and if he gives you more, I will be bound to forfeit twice as much!"

Aladdin thanked him for his fair dealing, so greatly to his advantage, took the gold, and never after went to any other person, but sold him all his dishes and the tray.

Though Aladdin and his mother had an inexhaustible treasure in their lamp, and might have had whatever they wished for, yet they lived with the same frugality as before, except that Aladdin dressed better; as for his mother, she wore no clothes but what she earned by spinning cotton. After their manner of living, it may easily be supposed that the money for which Aladdin had sold the dishes and tray was sufficient to maintain them for some time.

During this interval, Aladdin frequented the shops of the principal merchants, where they sold cloth of gold and silver, linens, silk stuffs, and jewelry, and oftentimes joining in their conversation, acquired a knowledge of the world, and respectable demeanour. By his acquaintance among the jewellers, he came to know that the fruits which he had gathered when he took the lamp were, instead of coloured glass, stones of inestimable value; but he had the prudence not to mention this to any one, not even to his mother.

One day as Aladdin was walking about the town, he heard an order proclaimed, commanding the people to shut up their shops and houses, and keep within doors, while the Princess Badroulboudour, the sultan's daughter, went to the baths and returned.

This proclamation inspired Aladdin with eager curiosity to see the princess's face, which he could not do without admission into the house of some acquaintance, and then only through a window; but to gratify his curiosity, he presently thought of a scheme, which succeeded; it was to place himself behind the door of the bath, which was so situated that he could not fail of seeing her face.

Aladdin had not waited long before the princess came, and he could see her plainly through a chink of the door without being discovered. She was attended by a great crowd of ladies, slaves, and eunuchs, who walked on each side, and behind her. When she came within three or four paces of the door of the baths, she took off her veil, and gave Aladdin an opportunity of a full view.

As soon as Aladdin had seen the princess, his heart could not withstand those inclinations so charming an object always inspires. She was the most beautiful brunette in the world; her eyes were large, lively, and sparkling; her looks sweet and modest; her nose was of a just proportion and without a fault, her mouth small, her lips of a vermilion red; in a word, all the features of her face were perfectly regular. It is not therefore surprising that Aladdin, who had never before seen such a blaze of charms, was dazzled, and his senses ravished by such an assemblage. With all these perfections the princess had so majestic an air, that the sight of her was sufficient to inspire love and admiration.

After the princess had passed by, and entered the baths, Aladdin remained some time astonished and in a kind of ecstasy, retracing and imprinting the idea of so charming an object deeply in his mind, but at last, he resolved to quit his hiding-place and go home. He could not so far conceal his uneasiness but that his mother perceived it, was surprised to see him so much more thoughtful than usual; and asked if he were ill? He returned her no answer, but sat carelessly down on the sofa, and remained silently musing on the image of the charming Badroulboudour.

After supper, his mother asked him again why he was so melancholy, but could get no information, and he determined to go to bed rather than give her the least satisfaction. As he sat next day on the sofa, opposite his mother, however, as she was spinning cotton, he spoke to her in these words: "I perceive, mother, that my silence yesterday has much troubled you; I was not, nor am I ill; but I assure you, that what I felt then, and now endure, is worse than any disease.

"It was not proclaimed in this quarter of the town, and therefore you could know nothing of it, that the sultan's daughter was yesterday to go to the baths. I had a great curiosity to see her face; and as it occurred to me that when she came nigh the bath, she would pull her veil off, I resolved to conceal myself behind the door. She did so and I had the happiness of seeing her lovely face with the greatest security. This, mother, was the cause of my silence yesterday; I love the princess with more violence than I can express; and as my passion increases every moment, I am resolved to ask her in marriage of the sultan, her father."

Aladdin's mother listened with interest to what her son told her; but when he talked of asking the princess in marriage, she could not help bursting out into a loud laugh. He would have gone on with his rhapsody, but she interrupted him: "Alas! child," said she, "what are you thinking of? you must be mad to talk thus."

"I assure you, mother," replied Aladdin, "that I am not mad, but in my right senses; I foresaw that you would reproach me with folly and extravagance; but I must tell you once more, that I am resolved to demand the princess in marriage!"

"Indeed, son," replied the mother seriously, "I cannot help telling you that you have forgotten yourself, and I do not see who will venture to make the proposal for you." "You yourself," replied he immediately. "I go to the sultan!" answered the mother, amazed. "I shall be cautious how I engage in such an errand. Why, who are you, son," continued she, "that you can have the assurance to think of your sultan's daughter? Have you forgotten that your father was one of the poorest tailors in the capital, and that I am of no better extraction; and do not you know that sultans never marry their daughters but to sons of sovereigns like themselves?"

"Mother," answered Aladdin, "I foresaw all that you have said, or can say: and tell you that neither your discourse nor your remonstrances shall make me change my mind. I have told you that you must ask the princess in marriage for me. I beg of you not to refuse, unless you would rather see me in my grave, than by your compliance give me new life."

The good old woman was much embarrassed, when she found Aladdin persisting in so wild a design. "My son," said she again, "I am your mother, and there is nothing that is reasonable but I would readily do for you. If I were to go and treat about your marriage with some neighbour's daughter, I would do it with all my heart; and even then they would expect you should have some little estate, or be of some trade. When such poor folks as we are wish to marry, the first thing they ought to think of, is how to live. But without reflecting on the meanness of your birth, and the little fortune you have to recommend you, you aim at the highest pitch of exaltation; and your pretensions are no less than to demand in marriage the daughter of your sovereign, who with one single word can crush you to pieces. How could so extraordinary a thought come into your head, as that I should go to the sultan and ask him to give his daughter in marriage to you? Suppose I had the impudence to present myself before the sultan, to whom should I address myself to be introduced to his majesty? Do you not think the first person I should speak to would take me for a mad woman, and chastise me as I should deserve? I know there is no difficulty to those who go to petition for justice, which the sultan distributes equally among his subjects; I know, too, that to those who ask a favour he grants it with pleasure when he sees it is deserved. But do you think you have merited the honour you would have me ask? What have you done to claim such a favour, either for your prince or country? How can I open my mouth to make the proposal to the sultan? His majestic presence and the lustre of his court would absolutely confound me. There is another reason, my son, which you do not think of, which is that nobody ever goes to ask a favour of the sultan without a present. But what presents have you to make? and what proportion could they bear to the favour you would ask? Therefore, reflect well, and consider that you aspire to an object which it is impossible for you to obtain."

Aladdin heard very calmly all that his mother could say to dissuade him from his design, and after he had weighed her representations replied: "I own, mother, it is great rashness in me to presume to carry my pretensions so far; and a great want of consideration to ask you to go and make the proposal to the sultan, without first taking proper measures to procure a favourable reception, and I therefore beg your pardon. But be not surprised that I did not at first see every measure necessary to procure me the happiness I seek. I love the princess, and shall always persevere in my design of marrying her. I am obliged to you for the hint you have given me, and look upon it as the first step I ought to take to procure the happy issue I promise myself.

"You say it is not customary to go to the sultan without a present, and that I have nothing worthy of his acceptance. Do not you think, mother, that what I brought home with me the day on which I was delivered from death may be an acceptable present? I mean those things that you and I both took for coloured glass: but now I can tell you that they are jewels of inestimable value. I know the worth of them by frequenting the shops; and you may take my word that all the precious stones which I saw in the jewellers' shops were not to be compared to those we have, either for size or beauty; I am persuaded that they will be received very favourably by the sultan: you have a large porcelain dish fit to hold them; fetch it, and let us see how they will look, when we have arranged them according to their different colours."

Aladdin's mother brought the china dish, when he took the jewels out of the two purses in which he had kept them, and placed them in order according to his fancy. But the brightness and lustre they emitted in the daytime so dazzled the eyes both of mother and son, that they were astonished beyond measure; for they had only seen them by the light of a lamp; and though the latter had beheld them pendent on the trees like fruit beautiful to the eye, yet as he was then but a boy, he looked on them only as glittering playthings.

After they had admired the beauty of the jewels some time, Aladdin said to his mother: "Now you cannot excuse yourself from going to the sultan, under pretext of not having a present to make him, since here is one which will gain you a favourable reception."

Though the good widow did not believe the precious stones so valuable as her son estimated them, she thought such a present might nevertheless be agreeable to the sultan, but she still hesitated. "My son," said she, "I cannot conceive that the sultan will look upon me with a favourable eye; I am sure, that if I attempt to deliver your strange message, I shall have no power to open my mouth; therefore I shall not only lose my labour, but the present, which you say is so valuable, and shall return home again in confusion, to tell you that your hopes are frustrated. But," added she, "I will do my best to please you, though certainly the sultan will either laugh at me, or be in so great a rage, as to make us both the victims of his fury."

She used many other arguments to endeavour to make Aladdin change his mind; but he persisted in importuning his mother to execute his resolution, and she, out of tenderness, complied with his request.

As it was now late, and the time for admission to the palace was passed, the visit was put off till the next day. The mother and son talked of different matters the remaining hours; and Aladdin strove to encourage her in the task she had undertaken; while she could not persuade herself she should succeed; and it must be confessed she had reason enough to doubt. "Child," said she to Aladdin, "if the sultan should hear my proposal with calmness, and after this should think of asking me where lie your riches and your estate, what answer would you have me return him?"

"Let us not be uneasy, mother," replied Aladdin, "about what may never happen. First, let us see how the sultan receives, and what answer he gives you. If he desires to be informed of what you mention, I am confident that the lamp will not fail me in time of need."

The tailor's widow reflected that the lamp might be capable of doing greater wonders than just providing victuals for them, and this removed all the difficulties which might have prevented her from undertaking the service she had promised. Aladdin, who penetrated into his mother's thoughts, said to her: "Above all things, mother, be sure to keep secret our possession of the lamp, for thereon depends the success we have to expect;" and after this caution they parted to go to rest. Aladdin rose before daybreak, awakened his mother, pressing her to get herself dressed to go to the sultan's palace, and to get admittance, if possible, before the great officers of state went in to take their seats in the divan, where the sultan always assisted in person.

Aladdin's mother took the china dish, in which they had put the jewels the day before, wrapped in two napkins, one finer than the other, which was tied at the four corners for more easy carriage, and set out for the palace. When she came to the gates, the grand vizier, the other viziers, and most distinguished lords of the court, were just gone in; but, notwithstanding the great crowd of people who had business there, she got into the divan, a spacious hall, the entrance into which was very magnificent. She placed herself just before the sultan, grand vizier, and the great lords, who sat in council, on his right and left hand. Several causes were called, according to their order, pleaded and adjudged, until the time the divan generally broke up, when the sultan rising, returned to his apartment, attended by the grand vizier; the other viziers and ministers of state then retired, as also did all those whose business had called them thither; some pleased with gaining their causes, others dissatisfied at the sentences pronounced against them, and some in expectation of being heard the next sitting.

Aladdin's mother, seeing the sultan retire, and all the people depart, judged rightly that he would not sit again that day, and resolved to go home. When Aladdin saw her return with the present, he knew not what to think, and in fear lest she should bring him some ill news, had not courage to ask her any questions; but she, who had never set foot into the sultan's palace before, and knew not what was every day practised there, freed him from his embarrassment, and said to him: "Son, I have seen the sultan, and am very well persuaded he has seen me too; for I placed myself just before him; but he was so much taken up with those who attended on all sides of him, that I pitied him, and wondered at his patience. At last I believe he was heartily tired, for he rose up suddenly, and would not hear a great many who were ready prepared to speak to him, but went away, at which I was well pleased, for indeed I began to lose all patience, and was extremely fatigued with staying so long. But there is no harm done; I will go again to-morrow; perhaps the sultan may not be so busy."

Though his passion was very violent, Aladdin was forced to be satisfied, and to fortify himself with patience. He had at least the satisfaction to find that his mother had got over the greatest difficulty, which was to procure access to the sultan, and hoped that the example of those she saw speak to him would embolden her to acquit herself better of her commission when a favourable opportunity might offer.

The next morning she repaired to the sultan's palace with the present, as early as the day before, but when she came there, she found the gates of the divan shut, and understood that the council sat but every other day, therefore she must come again the next. This news she carried to her son, whose only relief was to guard himself with patience. She went six times afterward on the days appointed and placed herself always directly before the sultan, but with as little success as the first morning, and might have perhaps come a thousand times to as little purpose, if luckily the sultan himself had not taken particular notice of her.

On the sixth day, after the divan was broken up, when the sultan returned to his own apartment, he said to his grand vizier: "I have for some time observed a certain woman, who attends constantly every day that I give audience, with something wrapped up in a napkin: she always stands up from the beginning to the breaking up of the audience, and affects to place herself just before me. Do you know what she wants?"

"Sir," replied the grand vizier, who knew no more than the sultan what she wanted, but did not wish to seem uninformed, "your majesty knows that women often make complaints on trifles; perhaps she may come to complain that somebody has sold her some bad flour, or some such trifling matter." The sultan was not satisfied with this answer, but replied: "If this woman comes to our next audience, do not fail to call her, that I may hear what she has to say." The grand vizier made answer by lowering his hand, and then lifting it up above his head, signifying his willingness to lose it if he failed.

By this time, the tailor's widow was so much used to go to audience, and stand before the sultan, that she did not think it any trouble, if she could but satisfy her son that she neglected nothing that lay in her power to please him: so the next audience-day she went to the divan and placed herself in front of the sultan as usual; and before the grand vizier had made his report of business, the sultan perceived her, and compassionating her for having waited so long, said to the vizier: "Before you enter upon any business, remember the woman I spoke to you about; bid her come near, and let us despatch her business first." The grand vizier immediately called the chief of the mace-bearers, and pointing to her, bade him tell her to come before the sultan.

The chief of the officers went to Aladdin's mother, and at a sign he gave her, she followed him to the foot of the sultan's throne, where he left her, and retired to his place by the grand vizier. The old woman bowed her head down to the carpet, which covered the platform of the throne, and remained in that posture till the sultan bade her rise, when he said to her: "Good woman, I have observed you to stand from the beginning to the rising of the divan; what business brings you here?"

After these words, Aladdin's mother prostrated herself a second time; and when she arose, said: "Monarch of monarchs, before I tell your majesty the extraordinary and incredible business which brings me before your high throne, I beg of you to pardon the boldness of the demand I am going to make, which is so uncommon, that I tremble, and am ashamed to propose it to my sovereign." In order to give her the more freedom to explain herself, the sultan ordered all to quit the divan but the grand vizier, and then told her she might speak without restraint.

Aladdin's mother, not content with this favour of the sultan's to save her the confusion of speaking before so many people, was, notwithstanding, a little apprehensive; therefore, resuming her discourse, she said: "I beg of your majesty, if you should think my demand the least offensive, to assure me first of your forgiveness." "Well," replied the sultan, "I will forgive you, be it what it may, and no hurt shall come to you: speak boldly."

When Aladdin's mother had taken all these precautions, she told him faithfully how Aladdin had seen the Princess Badroulboudour, the violent love that fatal sight had inspired him with, the declaration he had made to her when he came home, and what she had said to dissuade him. "But," continued she, "my son, instead of taking my advice and reflecting on his presumption, was so obstinate as to persevere, and to threaten me with some desperate act, if I refused to come and ask the princess in marriage of your majesty; and it was not without the greatest reluctance that I was led to accede to his request, for which I beg your majesty once more to pardon not only me, but also Aladdin my son, for entertaining so rash a project."

The sultan hearkened to this discourse without shewing the least anger; but before he gave her any answer, asked her what she had brought tied up in the napkin? She took the china dish, which she had set down at the foot of the throne before she prostrated herself before him, untied it, and presented it to the sultan.

The monarch's amazement and surprise were inexpressible, when he saw so many large, beautiful, and valuable jewels collected in the dish. He remained for some time motionless with admiration. At last, when he had recovered himself, he received the present, crying out in a transport of joy: "How rich, how beautiful!" After he had admired and handled all the jewels, one after another, he turned to his grand vizier, and shewing him the dish, said: "Behold, admire, wonder, and confess that your eyes never beheld jewels so rich and beautiful before." The vizier was charmed. "Well," continued the sultan, "what sayest thou to such a present? Is it not worthy of the princess, my daughter? And ought I not to bestow her on one who values her at so great price?"

These words put the grand vizier into extreme agitation. The sultan had some time before signified to him his intention of bestowing the princess on a son of his; therefore he was afraid, and not without grounds, that the present might change his majesty's mind. Therefore going to him, and whispering him in the ear, he said: "I cannot but own that the present is worthy of the princess; but I beg of your majesty to grant me three months before you come to a final resolution. I hope, before that time, my son, on whom you have had the goodness to look with a favourable eye, will be able to make a nobler present than Aladdin, who is an entire stranger to your majesty."

The sultan, though he was fully persuaded that it was not possible for the vizier to provide so considerable a present for his son, yet hearkened to him, and granted his request. Turning therefore to the old widow, he said to her: "Good woman, go home, and tell your son that I agree to the proposal you have made me; but I cannot marry the princess, my daughter, till the paraphernalia I design for her be got ready, which cannot be finished these three months; but at the expiration of that time, come again."

The widow returned home much more gratified than she had expected, since she had met with a favourable answer.

Aladdin thought himself the most happy of all men at hearing this news, and thanked his mother for the pains she had taken in the affair, the good success of which was of so great importance to his peace.

When two of the three months were passed, his mother one evening going to light the lamp, and finding no oil in the house, went out to buy some, and when she came into the city, found a general rejoicing. The shops were open, dressed with foliage, silks, and carpeting, every one striving to shew their zeal in the most distinguished manner according to their ability. The streets were crowded with officers in habits of ceremony, mounted on horses richly caparisoned, each attended by a great many footmen. Aladdin's mother asked the oil-merchant what was the meaning of all this preparation of public festivity? "Whence come you, good woman," said he, "that you do not know that the grand vizier's son is to marry the Princess Badroulboudour, the sultan's daughter, to-night? She will presently return from the baths; and these officers whom you see are to assist at the cavalcade to the palace, where the ceremony is to be solemnised."

This was news enough for Aladdin's mother. She ran till she was quite out of breath home to her son, who little suspected any such event. "Child," cried she, "you are undone! you depend upon the sultan's fine promises, but they will come to nothing." Aladdin was alarmed at these words. "Mother," replied he, "how do you know the sultan has been guilty of a breach of promise?" "This night," answered the mother, "the grand vizier's son is to marry the Princess Badroulboudour." She then related how she had heard it; so that he had no reason to doubt the truth of what she said.

At this account, Aladdin was thunderstruck. Any other man would have sunk under the shock; but a sudden hope of disappointing his rival soon roused his spirits, and he bethought himself of the lamp, which had in every emergency been so useful to him; and without venting his rage in empty words against the sultan, the vizier, or his son, he only said: "Perhaps, mother, the vizier's son may not be so happy to-night as he promises himself: while I go into my chamber a moment, do you get supper ready." She accordingly went about it, but guessed that her son was going to make use of the lamp, to prevent, if possible, the consummation of the marriage.

When Aladdin had got into his chamber, he took the lamp, rubbed it in the same place as before, when immediately the genie appeared, and said to him: "What wouldst thou have? I am ready to obey thee as thy slave, and the slave of all those who have that lamp in their possession; I and the other slaves of the lamp." "Hear me," said Aladdin; "thou hast hitherto brought me whatever I wanted as to provisions; but now I have business of the greatest importance for thee to execute. I have demanded the Princess Badroulboudour in marriage of the sultan, her father; he promised her to me, only requiring three months' delay; but instead of keeping that promise, has this night planned to marry her to the grand vizier's son. What I ask of you is, that as soon as the two are made one, you bring them both hither to me." "Master," replied the genie, "I will obey you. Have you any other commands?" "None at present," answered Aladdin, and then the genie disappeared.

Aladdin having left his chamber, supped with his mother, with the same tranquillity of mind as usual; and after supper talked of the princess's marriage as of an affair wherein he had not the least concern; he then retired to his own chamber again, but sat up waiting the execution of his orders to the genie.

In the meantime, everything was prepared with the greatest magnificence in the sultan's palace to celebrate the princess's nuptials; and the evening was spent with all the usual ceremonies and great rejoicings.

No sooner had the bride and bridegroom slipped away from the company, however, than the genie, as the faithful slave of the lamp, and punctual in executing the command of those who possessed it, to the great amazement of them both, took them up and transported them in an instant to Aladdin's chamber, where he set them down.

Aladdin had waited impatiently for this moment. "Take this new-married man," said he to the genie, "shut him up in the house of office, and come again to-morrow morning before daybreak." The genie instantly carried the vizier's son whither Aladdin had commanded him; and after he had breathed upon him, which prevented his stirring, left him there.

Passionate as was Aladdin's love for the princess, he did not talk much to her when they were alone; but only said with a respectful air: "Fear nothing, adorable princess; you are here in safety. If I have been forced to come to this extremity, it is to prevent an unjust rival's possessing you, contrary to your father's promise in favour of myself."

The princess, who knew nothing of these particulars, gave very little attention to what Aladdin could say. The fright and amazement of so surprising an adventure had alarmed her so much that he could not get one word from her. Badroulboudour never passed a night so ill in her life; and if we consider the condition in which the genie left the grand vizier's son, we may imagine that the new bridegroom spent it much worse.

Aladdin had no occasion the next morning to rub the lamp to call the genie; who appeared at the hour appointed, and said to him: "I am here, master; what are your commands?" "Go," said Aladdin, "fetch the vizier's son out of the place where you left him, and carry the pair to the sultan's palace, from whence you brought them." The genie presently returned with the vizier's son, and in an instant they were transported into the same chamber of the palace from whence they had been brought. But we must observe, that all this time the genie never was visible either to the princess or the grand vizier's son. His hideous form would have made them die with fear. Neither did they hear anything of the discourse between Aladdin and him; they only perceived the motion through the air, and their transportation from one place to another; which we may well imagine was enough to alarm them.

The sultan went to the room of the princess next morning and kissed her between the eyes, according to custom, wishing her a good morrow, but was extremely surprised to see her so melancholy. She only cast at him a sorrowful look, expressive of great affliction. He said a few words to her; but finding that he could not get an answer, was forced to retire. Nevertheless, he suspected that there was something extraordinary in this silence, and thereupon went immediately to the sultaness's apartment, told her in what a state he had found the princess, and how she had received him. "Sir," said the sultaness, "I will go and see her; I am much deceived if she receives me in the same manner."

As soon as the sultaness was dressed, she went to the princess's apartment, who was still in bed. She undrew the curtain, wished her good morrow, and kissed her. But how great was her surprise when she returned no answer; and looking more attentively at her, she perceived her to be much dejected, which made her judge that something had happened, which she did not understand. "How comes it, child," said the sultaness, "that you do not return my caresses? Ought you to treat your mother after this manner? I am induced to believe something extraordinary has happened; come, tell me freely, and leave me no longer in a painful suspense."

At last the princess broke silence with a deep sigh, and said: "Alas! most honoured mother, forgive me if I have failed in the respect I owe you. My mind is so full of the extraordinary circumstances which have befallen me that I have not yet recovered from my amazement and alarm." She then related her surprising adventures, which the sultaness heard very patiently, but could scarcely believe. "You did well, child," said she, "not to speak of this to your father: take care not to mention it to anybody; for you will certainly be thought mad if you talk in this manner." "Madam," replied the princess, "I can assure you I am in my right senses; ask my husband and he will tell you the same circumstances." "I will," said the sultaness; "but if he should talk in the same manner, I shall not be better persuaded of the truth. Come, rise, and throw off this idle fancy; it will be strange if all the feasts and rejoicings in the kingdom should be interrupted by such a vision. Do not you hear the trumpets of congratulation, and concerts of the finest music? Cannot these inspire you with joy and make you forget the fancies of a dream?" At the same time the sultaness called the princess's women, and after she had seen her get up, went to the sultan's apartment, told him that her daughter had got some odd notions in her head, but that there was nothing in them but idle phantasy.

She then sent for the vizier's son, to know of him something of what the princess had told her; but he, thinking himself highly honoured to be allied to the sultan, and not willing to lose the princess, denied what had happened. "That is enough," answered the sultaness; "I ask no more. I see you are wiser than my daughter."

The rejoicings lasted all that day in the palace, and the sultaness, who never left the princess, forgot nothing to divert her, and induce her to take part in the various diversions and shows; but she was so struck with the idea of what had happened to her in the night, that it was easy to see her thoughts were entirely taken up with it. Neither was the grand vizier's son in less tribulation, though his ambition made him disguise his feelings so well, that nobody doubted of his being a happy bridegroom.

Aladdin, who was well acquainted with what passed in the palace, was resolved that the troublesome adventure of the night before should again disturb the unhappy pair, and therefore had recourse to his lamp, and when the genie appeared and offered his service, he said to him: "Bring the grand vizier's son and the Princess Badroulboudour hither to-night, as thou didst yesterday."

The genie obeyed as faithfully and exactly as the day before; the grand vizier's son passed the night as coldly and disagreeably, and the princess had the same alarm and mortification. The genie, according to orders, came the next morning, and returned the new-married couple again to the palace.

The sultan, after the reception the princess had given him, was very anxious to know how she had passed the second night, and therefore went into her chamber as early as the morning before. After the same caresses he had given her the former morning, he bade her good-morrow. "Well, daughter," said he, "are you in a better humour than yesterday?" Still the princess was silent, and the sultan, perceiving her to be in greater confusion than before, doubted not that something very extraordinary was the cause; but provoked that his daughter should conceal it, he said to her in a rage, with his sabre in his hand: "Daughter, tell me what is the matter, or I will cut off your head immediately."

The princess, more frightened at the tone of the enraged sultan than at the sight of the drawn sabre, at last broke silence, and said with tears in her eyes: "My dear father and sultan, I ask your majesty's pardon if I have offended you, and hope that out of your goodness you will have compassion on me."

After this preamble, which appeased the sultan, she told him what had happened to her in so moving a manner, that he, who loved her tenderly, was most sensibly grieved. She added: "If your majesty doubts the truth of this account, you may inform yourself from my husband, who will tell you the same thing."

The sultan immediately felt all the uneasiness so surprising an adventure must have given the princess. "Daughter," said he, "you are much to blame for not telling me this yesterday, since it concerns me as much as yourself. I did not marry you to make you miserable, but that you might enjoy all the happiness you might hope for from a husband, who to me seemed agreeable to you. Efface all these troublesome ideas from your memory; I will take care that you shall have no more such disagreeable experiences."

As soon as the sultan had returned to his own apartment, he sent for the grand vizier: "Vizier," said he, "have you seen your son, and has he told you anything?" The vizier replied: "No." The sultan related all the circumstances of which the princess had informed him, and afterward said: "I do not doubt but that my daughter has told me the truth; but nevertheless I should be glad to have it confirmed by your son, therefore go and ask him how it was."

The grand vizier went immediately to his son, communicated what the sultan had told him, and enjoined him to conceal nothing, but to relate the whole truth. "I will disguise nothing from you, father," replied the son, "for indeed all that the princess has stated is true. Yet I must tell you, that all these experiences do not in the least lessen those sentiments of love and gratitude I entertain for her; but I must confess, that notwithstanding all the honour that attends marrying my sovereign's daughter, I would much rather die than continue in so exalted an alliance, if I must undergo much longer what I have already endured. I do not doubt but that the princess entertains the same sentiments, and that she will readily agree to a separation which is so necessary both for her repose and mine. Therefore, father, I beg, by the same tenderness which led you to procure me so great an honour, to obtain the sultan's consent that our marriage may be declared null and void."

Notwithstanding the grand vizier's ambition to have his son allied to the sultan, the firm resolution he saw he had formed to be separated from the princess caused the father to give his majesty a full account of what had passed, begging him finally to give his son leave to retire from the palace, alleging it was not just that the princess should be a moment longer exposed to so terrible a persecution upon his son's account.

The grand vizier found no great difficulty to obtain what he asked, as the sultan had determined upon it already; orders were given to put a stop to all rejoicings in the palace and town, and expresses despatched to all parts of his dominions to countermand his first orders; and in a short time, all merry-making ceased.

This sudden change gave rise both in the city and kingdom to various speculations and inquiries; but no other account could be given of it, except that both the vizier and his son went out of the palace much dejected. Nobody but Aladdin knew the secret, who rejoiced at the happy success procured by his lamp. Neither the sultan nor the grand vizier, who had forgotten Aladdin and his request, had the least thought that he had any concern in the enchantment which caused the dissolution of the marriage.

Aladdin waited till the three months were completed, which the sultan had appointed for the consummation of the marriage between the Princess Badroulboudour and himself; and the next day sent his mother to the palace, to remind the sultan of his promise.

The widow went to the palace, and stood in the same place as before in the hall of audience. The sultan no sooner cast his eyes upon her than he knew her again, remembered her business, and how long he had put her off: therefore, when the grand vizier was beginning to make his report, the sultan interrupted him, and said: "Vizier, I see the good woman who made me the present of jewels some months ago; forbear your report, till I have heard what she has to say." The vizier, looking about the divan, perceived the tailor's widow, and sent the chief of the mace-bearers to conduct her to the sultan.

Aladdin's mother came to the foot of the throne, prostrated herself as usual, and when she rose, the sultan asked her what she would have. "Sir," said she, "I come to represent to your majesty, in the name of my son, Aladdin, that the three months, at the end of which you ordered me to come again, are expired; and to beg you to remember your promise."

The sultan, when he had fixed a time to answer the request of this good woman, little thought of hearing any more of a marriage, which he imagined would be very disagreeable to the princess; so this summons for him to fulfil his promise was somewhat embarrassing; he declined giving an answer till he had consulted his vizier, and signified to him the little inclination he had to conclude a match for his daughter with a stranger, whose rank he supposed to be very mean.

The grand vizier freely told the sultan his thoughts, and said to him: "In my opinion, sir, there is an infallible way for your majesty to avoid a match so disproportionate, without giving Aladdin, were he known to your majesty, any cause of complaint; which is, to set so high a price upon the princess that, however rich he may be, he cannot comply with it. This is the only way to make him desist from so bold an undertaking."

The sultan, approving of the grand vizier's advice, turned to the tailor's widow and said to her: "Good woman, it is true sultans ought to abide by their words, and I am ready to keep mine, by making your son happy in marriage with the princess, my daughter. But as I cannot marry her without some further valuable consideration from your son, you may tell him, I will fulfil my promise as soon as he shall send me forty trays of massy gold, full of the same sort of jewels you have already made me a present of, and carried by the like number of black slaves, who shall be led by as many young and handsome white slaves, all dressed magnificently. On these conditions I am ready to bestow the princess, my daughter, upon him; therefore, good woman, go and tell him so, and I will wait till you bring me his answer."

Aladdin's mother prostrated herself a second time before the sultan's throne, and retired. On her way home, she laughed within herself at her son's foolish imagination. "Where," said she, "can he get so many large gold trays, and such precious stones to fill them? Must he go again to that subterranean abode and gather them off the trees? and where will he get so many such slaves as the sultan requires? It is altogether out of his power, and I believe he will not be much pleased with my embassy this time." When she came home, full of these thoughts, she said to her son: "Indeed, child, I would not have you think any farther of your marriage with the princess. The sultan received me very kindly, and I believe he was well inclined to you; but if I am not much deceived the grand vizier has made him change his mind." She then gave her son an exact account of what the sultan had said to her, and the conditions on which he consented to the match. Afterward she said to him: "The sultan expects your answer immediately; but," continued she, laughing, "I believe he may wait long enough."

"Not so long, mother, as you imagine," replied Aladdin; "the sultan is mistaken, if he thinks by this exorbitant demand to prevent my entertaining thoughts of the princess. I expected that he would have set a higher price upon her incomparable charms. His demand is but a trifle to what I could have done for her. But while I think of satisfying his request, go and get something for our dinner, and leave the rest to me."

As soon as his mother was gone out, Aladdin took the lamp, and rubbing it, the genie appeared, and offered his service as usual. "The sultan," said Aladdin to him, "gives me the princess his daughter in marriage; but demands first, forty large trays of massy gold, full of the fruits of the garden from whence I took this lamp; and these he expects to have carried by as many black slaves, each preceded by a young handsome white slave, richly clothed. Go, and fetch me this present as soon as possible, that I may send it to him before the divan breaks up." The genie told him his command should be immediately obeyed, and disappeared.

In a little time afterward the genie returned with forty black slaves, each bearing on his head a heavy tray of pure gold, full of pearls, diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and every sort of precious stones, all larger and more beautiful than those formerly presented to the sultan. Each tray was covered with silver tissue, embroidered with flowers of gold: these, together with the white slaves, quite filled the house, which was but a small one, the little court before it, and a small garden behind. The genie asked if he had any other commands, and Aladdin telling him that he wanted nothing further, he disappeared.

When Aladdin's mother came from market, she was much surprised to see so many people and such vast riches. As soon as she had laid down her provisions, she was going to pull off her veil; but her son prevented her, and said: "Mother, let us lose no time; before the sultan and the divan rise, I would have you return to the palace with this present as the dowry demanded for the princess, that he may judge by my diligence of the ardent desire I have to procure myself the honour of this alliance." Without waiting for his mother's reply, Aladdin opened the street-door, and made the slaves walk out; each white slave followed by a black with a tray upon his head. When they were all out, the mother followed the last black slave; he shut the door, and then retired to his chamber, full of hopes that the sultan, after this present, which was such as he required, would receive him as his son-in-law.

The first white slave who went out made all the people who were going by stop; and before they were all clear of the house, the streets were crowded with spectators, who ran to see so extraordinary and magnificent a procession. The dress of each slave was so rich, both for the stuff and the jewels, that those who were dealers in them valued each at no less than a million of money; besides, the neatness and propriety of the dress, the noble air, fine shape and proportion of each slave were unparalleled; their grave walk at an equal distance from each other, the lustre of the jewels, curiously set in their girdles of gold, and the egrets of precious stones in their turbans, put the spectators into such great admiration, that they could not avoid following them with their eyes as far as possible. As soon as the first of these slaves arrived at the palace gate, the porters formed themselves into order, taking him for a prince from the magnificence of his habit, and were going to kiss the hem of his garment; but the slave, who was instructed by the genie, prevented them, and said: "We are only slaves, our master will appear at a proper time."

The first slave, followed by the rest, advanced into the second court, which was very spacious, and in which the sultan's household was ranged during the sitting of the divan. The magnificence of the officers, who stood at the head of their troops, was considerably eclipsed by the slaves who bore Aladdin's present, of which they themselves made a part.

As the sultan, who had been informed of their approach to the palace, had given orders for them to be admitted, they went into the divan in regular order, one part filing to the right, and the other to the left. After they were all entered, and had formed a semicircle before the sultan's throne, the black slaves laid the golden trays on the carpet, prostrating themselves, and at the same time the white slaves did the same. When they rose, the black slaves uncovered the trays, and then all stood with their arms crossed over their breasts.

In the meantime Aladdin's mother advanced to the foot of the throne, and having paid her respects, said to the sultan: "Sir, my son is sensible that this present, which he has sent your majesty, is much below the Princess Badroulboudour's worth; but hopes, nevertheless, that your majesty will accept of it."

The sultan was not able to give the least attention to this compliment. The moment he cast his eyes on the forty trays, full of the most precious and beautiful jewels he had ever seen, and the fourscore slaves, who appeared by the elegance of their persons, and the magnificence of their dress, like so many princes, he was overwhelmed. Instead of answering the compliment of Aladdin's mother, he addressed himself to the grand vizier, who could not any more than the sultan comprehend from whence such a profusion of richness could come. "Well, vizier," said he aloud, "who do you think it can be that has sent me so extraordinary a present? Do you think him worthy of the Princess Badroulboudour, my daughter?"

The vizier, notwithstanding his envy and grief at seeing a stranger preferred to his son, durst not disguise his sentiments. It was too visible that Aladdin's present was more than sufficient to merit his being received into royal alliance; therefore, consulting his master's feelings, he returned this answer: "I am so far from having any thoughts that the person who has made your majesty so noble a present is unworthy of the honour you would do him, that I should say he deserved much more, if I were not persuaded that the greatest treasure in the world ought not to be put in competition with the princess, your majesty's daughter."

The sultan made no longer hesitation, nor thought of informing himself whether Aladdin was endowed with all the qualifications requisite in one who aspired to be his son-in-law. The sight alone of such immense riches, and Aladdin's quickness in satisfying his demand, without starting the least difficulty at the exorbitant conditions he had imposed, easily persuaded him that he could want nothing to render him accomplished, and such as he desired. Therefore, to send Aladdin's mother back with all the satisfaction she could desire, he said to her: "My good lady, go and tell your son that I wait with open arms to embrace him, and the more haste he makes to come and receive the princess, my daughter, from my hands, the greater pleasure he will do me."

As soon as the tailor's widow had retired, overjoyed to see her son raised to such exalted fortune, the sultan put an end to the audience; and rising from his throne, ordered that the princess's eunuchs should come and carry the trays into their mistress's apartment, whither he went himself to examine them with her at his leisure. The fourscore slaves were conducted into the palace; and the sultan, telling the princess of their magnificent appearance, ordered them to be brought before her apartment, that she might see through the lattices that he had not exaggerated in his account of them.

In the meantime, Aladdin's mother got home, and shewed in her countenance the good news she brought her son. "My son," said she to him, "you have now all the reason in the world to be pleased. The sultan, with the approbation of the whole court, has declared that you are worthy to possess the Princess Badroulboudour, and waits to embrace you, and conclude your marriage; therefore, you must think of making preparations for your interview, which may answer the high opinion he has formed of your person."

Aladdin, enraptured with this news, made little reply, but retired to his chamber. There, after he had rubbed the lamp, which had never failed him, the obedient genie appeared. "Genie," said Aladdin, "I want to bathe immediately, and you must afterward provide me the richest and most magnificent habit ever worn by a monarch." No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the genie rendered him invisible, and transported him into a bath of the finest marble, where he was undressed, without seeing by whom, in a magnificent and spacious hall. From the hall he was led to the bath, which was of a moderate heat, and he was there rubbed with various scented waters. After he had passed through several degrees of heat, he came out quite a different man from what he was before. His skin was clear white and red, his body lightsome and free; and when he returned into the hall, he found, instead of his own, a suit the magnificence of which astonished him. The genie helped him to dress, and when he had done, transported him back to his own chamber, where he asked him if he had any other commands? "Yes," answered Aladdin, "I expect you to bring me as soon as possible a charger that surpasses in beauty and goodness the best in the sultan's stables, with a saddle, bridle, and other caparisons worth a million of money. I want also twenty slaves, as richly clothed as those who carried the present to the sultan, to walk by my side, and twenty more to go before me in two ranks. Besides these, bring my mother six women slaves to attend her, as richly dressed at least as any of the Princess Badroulboudour's, each carrying a complete dress fit for any sultaness. I want also ten thousand pieces of gold in ten purses; go, and make haste."

As soon as Aladdin had given these orders, the genie disappeared, but presently returned with the horse, the forty slaves, ten of whom carried each a purse containing ten thousand pieces of gold, and six women slaves, each carrying on her head a different dress for Aladdin's mother, wrapped up in a piece of silver tissue.

Of the ten purses Aladdin took four, which he gave to his mother, telling her, those were to supply her with necessaries; the other six he left in the hands of the slaves who brought them, with an order to throw them by handfuls among the people as they went to the sultan's palace. The six slaves who carried the purses he ordered likewise to march before him, three on the right hand and three on the left. Afterward he presented the six women slaves to his mother, telling her that they were her slaves, and that the dresses they had brought were for her use.

When Aladdin had thus settled matters, he told the genie he would call for him when he wanted him, and thereupon the genie disappeared. Aladdin's thoughts now were only upon answering, as soon as possible, the desire the sultan had shewn to see him. He despatched one of the forty slaves to the palace, with an order to address himself to the chief of the porters, to know when he might have the honour to come and throw himself at the sultan's feet. The slave soon acquitted himself of his commission, and brought for answer that the sultan waited for him with impatience.

Aladdin immediately mounted his charger, and though he never was on horseback before, appeared with such extraordinary grace, that the most experienced horseman would not have taken him for a novice. The streets through which he was to pass were almost instantly filled with an innumerable concourse of people, who made the air echo with their acclamations, especially every time the six slaves who carried the purses threw handfuls of gold among the populace. Neither did these shouts of joy come from those alone who scrambled for the money, but from a superior rank of people, who could not forbear applauding Aladdin's generosity. Not only those who knew him when he played in the streets like a vagabond did not recollect him, but those who saw him but a little while before hardly recognised him, so much were his features altered: such were the effects of the lamp, as to procure by degrees to those who possessed it perfections suitable to the rank to which the right use of it advanced them. Much more attention was paid to Aladdin's person than to the pomp and magnificence of his attendants, as a similar show had been seen the day before, when the slaves walked in procession with the present to the sultan. Nevertheless, the horse was much admired by good judges, who knew how to discern his beauties, without being dazzled by the jewels and richness of his furniture. When the report was everywhere spread that the sultan was going to give the princess in marriage to Aladdin, nobody regarded his birth, nor envied his good fortune, so worthy he seemed of it in the public opinion.

When he arrived at the palace, everything was prepared for his reception; and when he came to the gate of the second court, he would have alighted from his horse, agreeably to the custom observed by the grand vizier, the commander-in-chief of the empire, and governors of provinces of the first rank; but the chief of the mace-bearers, who waited on him by the sultan's order, prevented him, and attended him to the grand hall of audience, where he helped him to dismount. The officers formed themselves into two ranks at the entrance of the hall. The chief put Aladdin on his right hand, and through the midst of them led him to the sultan's throne.

As soon as the sultan perceived Aladdin, he was no less surprised to see him more richly and magnificently habited than ever he had been himself, than struck at his good mien, fine shape, and a certain air of unexpected dignity, very different from the meanness of his mother's late appearance.

But, notwithstanding, his amazement and surprise did not hinder him from rising off his throne, and descending two or three steps, quickly enough to prevent Aladdin's throwing himself at his feet. He embraced him with all possible demonstrations of joy at his arrival. After this civility Aladdin would have thrown himself at his feet again; but he held him fast by the hand, and obliged him to sit close to the throne.

Aladdin then addressed the sultan, saying: "I receive the honour which your majesty out of your great condescension is pleased to confer; but permit me to assure you that I know the greatness of your power, and that I am not insensible how much my birth is below the lustre of the high rank to which I am raised. I ask your majesty's pardon for my rashness, but I cannot dissemble that I should die with grief were I to lose my hopes of seeing myself united to the divine princess who is the object of my wishes."

"My son," answered the sultan, embracing him a second time, "you would wrong me to doubt for a moment of my sincerity: your life from this moment is too dear to me not to preserve it, by presenting you with the remedy which is at my disposal."

After these words, the sultan gave a signal, and immediately the air echoed with the sound of trumpets, hautboys, and other musical instruments: and at the same time he led Aladdin into a magnificent hall, where was laid out a most splendid collation. The sultan and Aladdin ate by themselves, while the grand vizier and the great lords of the court, according to their dignity and rank, sat at different tables. The conversation turned on different subjects; but all the while the sultan took so much pleasure in looking at his intended son-in-law, that he hardly ever took his eyes off him; and throughout the whole of their conversation Aladdin shewed so much good sense, as confirmed the sultan in the high opinion he had formed of him.

After the feast, the sultan sent for the chief judge of his capital, and ordered him to draw up immediately a contract of marriage between the Princess Badroulboudour, his daughter, and Aladdin.

When the judge had drawn up the contract in all the requisite forms, the sultan asked Aladdin if he would stay in the palace, and solemnise the ceremonies of marriage that day; to which he answered: "Sir, though great is my impatience to enjoy your majesty's goodness, yet I beg of you to give me leave to defer it till I have built a palace fit to receive the princess; therefore I petition you to grant me a convenient spot of ground near your abode, that I may the more frequently pay my respects, and I will take care to have it finished with all diligence." "Son," said the sultan, "take what ground you think proper, there is space enough on every quarter round my palace; but consider, I cannot see you too soon united with my daughter, which alone is wanting to complete my happiness." After these words he embraced Aladdin again, who took his leave with as much politeness as if he had been bred up and had always lived at court.

Aladdin returned home in the order he had come, amidst the acclamations of the people, who wished him all happiness and prosperity. As soon as he dismounted, he retired to his own chamber, took the lamp, and called the genie as before, who in the usual manner made him a tender of his service. "Genie," said Aladdin, "I have every reason to commend your exactness in executing hitherto punctually whatever I have demanded; but now, if you have any regard for the lamp, your protector, you must shew, if possible, more zeal and diligence than ever. I would have you build me, as soon as you can, a palace opposite, but at a proper distance from, the sultan's, fit to receive my spouse, the Princess Badroulboudour. I leave the choice of the materials to you, that is to say, porphyry, jasper, agate, lapis lazuli, or the finest marble of various colours, and also the architecture of the building. But I expect that on the terraced roof of this palace you will build me a large hall crowned with a dome, and having four equal fronts; and that instead of layers of bricks, the walls be formed of massy gold and silver, laid alternately: that each front shall contain six windows, the lattices of all of which (except one, which must be left unfinished) shall be so enriched in the most tasteful workmanship, with diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, that they shall exceed anything of the kind ever seen in the world. I would have an inner and outer court in front of the palace, and a spacious garden; but above all things, take care that there be laid in a place which you shall point out to me, a treasure of gold and silver coin. Besides, the edifice must be well provided with kitchens and offices, storehouses, and rooms to keep choice furniture in, for every season of the year. I must have stables full of the finest horses, with their equerries and grooms, and hunting equipage. There must be officers to attend the kitchens and offices, and women slaves to wait on the princess. You understand what I mean; therefore go about it, and come and tell me when all is finished."

By the time Aladdin had instructed the genie respecting the building of his palace, the sun was set. The next morning, before break of day, our bridegroom, whose love for the princess would not let him sleep, was up, when the genie presented himself and said: "Sir, your palace is finished; come and see how you like it." Aladdin had no sooner signified his consent, than the genie transported him thither in an instant, and he found it so much beyond his expectation, that he could not enough admire it. The genie led him through all the apartments, where he met with nothing but what was rich and magnificent, with officers and slaves all habited according to their rank and the services to which they were appointed. The genie then shewed him the treasury, which was opened by a treasurer, where Aladdin saw heaps of purses, of different sizes, piled up to the top of the ceiling, and disposed in most excellent order. The genie assured him of the treasurer's fidelity, and thence led him to the stables, where he shewed him some of the finest horses in the world, and the grooms busy in dressing them; from thence they went to the storehouses, which were filled with all things necessary, both for food and ornament.

When Aladdin had examined the palace from top to bottom, and particularly the hall with the four and twenty windows, and found it much beyond whatever he could have imagined, he said: "Genie, no one can be better satisfied than I am; and indeed I should be much to blame if I found any fault. There is only one thing wanting which I forgot to mention; that is, to lay from the sultan's palace to the door of the apartment designed for the princess, a carpet of fine velvet for her to walk upon." The genie immediately disappeared, and Aladdin saw what he desired executed in an instant. The genie then returned, and carried him home before the gates of the sultan's palace were opened.

When the porters, who had always been used to an open prospect, came to open the gates, they were amazed to find it obstructed, and to see a carpet of velvet spread from the grand entrance. They did not immediately look how far it extended, but when they could discern Aladdin's palace distinctly, their surprise was increased. The news of so extraordinary a wonder was presently spread through the palace. The grand vizier, who arrived soon after the gates were open, being no less amazed than others at this novelty, ran and acquainted the sultan, but endeavoured to make him believe it to be all enchantment. "Vizier," replied the sultan, "why will you have it to be enchantment? You know as well as I that it must be Aladdin's palace, which I gave him leave to build, for the reception of my daughter. After the proof we have had of his riches, can we think it strange that he should raise a palace in so short a time? He wished to surprise us, and let us see what wonders are to be done with money in only one night. Confess sincerely that the enchantment you talk of proceeds from a little envy on account of your son's disappointment."

When Aladdin had been conveyed home, and had dismissed the genie, he found his mother up, and dressing herself in one of those suits which had been brought her. By the time the sultan rose from the council, Aladdin had prepared his mother to go to the palace with her slaves, and desired her, if she saw the sultan, to tell him she should do herself the honour toward evening to attend the princess to her palace. Accordingly she went; but though she and the women slaves who followed her were all dressed like sultanesses, yet the crowd was not near so great as the preceding day, because they were all veiled, and each had on an upper garment agreeable to the richness and magnificence of their habits. Aladdin, taking care not to forget his wonderful lamp, mounted his horse, left his paternal home forever, and went to the palace in the same pomp as the day before.

As soon as the porters of the sultan's palace saw Aladdin's mother, they went and informed the sultan, who immediately ordered the bands of trumpets, cymbals, drums, fifes, and hautboys, placed in different parts of the palace, to play, so that the air resounded with concerts which inspired the whole city with joy: the merchants began to adorn their shops and houses with fine carpets and silks, and to prepare illuminations against night. The artisans of every description left their work, and the populace repaired to the great space between the royal palace and that of Aladdin; which last drew all their attention, not only because it was new to them, but because there was no comparison between the two buildings. But their amazement was to comprehend by what unheard-of miracle so magnificent a palace could have been so soon erected, it being apparent to all that there were no prepared materials, or any foundations laid the day before.

Aladdin's mother was received in the palace with honour, and introduced into the Princess Badroulboudour's apartment by the chief of the eunuchs. As soon as the princess saw her, she rose, saluted, and desired her to sit down on a sofa; and while her women finished dressing, and adorning her with the jewels which Aladdin had presented to her, a collation was served up. At the same time the sultan, who wished to be as much with his daughter as possible before he parted with her, came in and paid the old lady great respect. Aladdin's mother had talked to the sultan in public, but he had never seen her with her veil off, as she was then; and though she was somewhat advanced in years, she had the remains of a good face, which showed what she had been in her youth. The sultan, who had always seen her dressed very meanly, not to say poorly, was surprised to find her as richly and magnificently attired as the princess, his daughter. This made him think Aladdin equally prudent and wise in whatever he undertook.

When it was night, the princess left her own apartment for Aladdin's palace, with his mother on her left hand carried in a superb litter, followed by a hundred women slaves, dressed with surprising magnificence. All the bands of music, which had played from the time Aladdin's mother arrived, being joined together, led the procession, followed by a hundred state ushers, and the like number of black eunuchs, in two files, with their officers at their head. Four hundred of the sultan's young pages carried flambeaux on each side, which, together with the illuminations of the sultan's and Aladdin's palaces, made it as light as day.

At length the princess arrived at the new palace and Aladdin ran with all imaginable joy to receive her at the grand entrance. His mother had taken care to point him out to the princess, in the midst of the officers who surrounded him, and she was charmed with his person. "Adorable princess," said Aladdin, accosting her, and saluting her respectfully, as soon as she had entered her apartment, "if I have the misfortune to have displeased you by my boldness in aspiring to the possession of so lovely a creature, I must tell you, that you ought to blame your bright eyes and charms, not me." "Prince," answered the princess, "I am obedient to the will of my father; and it is enough for me to have seen you, to tell you that I obey without reluctance."

Aladdin, charmed with so agreeable an answer, would not keep the princess standing; but took her by the hand, which he kissed with the greatest demonstration of joy, and led her into a large hall, illuminated with an infinite number of wax candles; where, by the care of the genie, a noble feast was served up. The dishes were of massy gold, and contained the most delicate viands, and all the other ornaments and embellishments of the hall were answerable to this display. The princess, dazzled to see so much riches, said to Aladdin: "I thought, prince, that nothing in the world was so beautiful as the sultan my father's palace, but the sight of this hall alone is sufficient to shew I was deceived."

Then Aladdin led the princess to the place appointed for her, and as soon as she and his mother were seated, a band of the most harmonious instruments, accompanied with the voices of beautiful ladies, began a concert, which lasted without intermission to the end of the repast. The princess was so charmed, that she declared she had never heard anything like it in the sultan her father's court; but she knew not that these musicians were fairies chosen by the genie, the slave of the lamp.

When the supper was ended, there entered a company of female dancers, who performed, according to the custom of the country, several figure dances, singing at the same time verses in praise of the bride and bridegroom. About midnight the happy pair retired to their apartments and the nuptial ceremonies were at an end.

The next morning, when Aladdin arose, his attendants presented themselves to dress him, and brought him another habit as magnificent as that worn the day before. He then ordered one of the horses appointed for his use to be got ready, mounted him, and went in the midst of a large troop of slaves to the sultan's palace. The sultan received him with the same honours as before, embraced him, placed him on the throne near him, and ordered a collation. Aladdin said: "I beg your majesty will dispense with my eating with you to-day; I came to entreat you to take a repast in the princess's palace, attended by your grand vizier, and all the lords of your court." The sultan consented with pleasure, rose up immediately, and, preceded by the principal officers of his palace, and followed by all the great lords of his court, accompanied Aladdin.

The nearer the sultan approached Aladdin's palace, the more he was struck with its beauty, but was much more amazed when he entered it; and could not forbear breaking out into exclamations of approbation. But when he came into the hall, and cast his eyes on the windows, enriched with diamonds, rubies, emeralds, all large perfect stones, he was so much surprised, that he remained some time motionless. After he recovered himself, he said to his vizier; "Is it possible that there should be such a stately palace so near my own, and I be an utter stranger to it till now?" "Sir," replied the grand vizier, "your majesty may remember that the day before yesterday you gave Aladdin, whom you accepted for a son-in-law, leave to build a palace opposite your own, and that very day at sunset there was no palace on this spot, but yesterday I had the honour first to tell you that the palace was built and finished." "I remember," replied the sultan, "but never imagined that the palace was one of the wonders of the world; for where in all the world besides shall we find walls built of massy gold and silver, instead of brick, stone, or marble; and diamonds, rubies, and emeralds composing the windows!"

The sultan would examine and admire the beauty of all the windows, and counting them, found that there were but three and twenty so richly adorned, and he was greatly astonished that the twenty-fourth was left imperfect. "Vizier," said he, for that minister made a point of never leaving him, "I am surprised that a hall of this magnificence should be left thus imperfect." "Sir," replied the grand vizier, "without doubt Aladdin only wanted time to finish this window like the rest; for it is not to be supposed but that he has sufficient jewels for the purpose, or that he will not complete it at the first opportunity."

Aladdin, who had left the sultan to go and give some orders, returned just as the vizier had finished his remark. "Son," said the sultan to him, "this hall is the most worthy of admiration of any in the world; there is only one thing that surprises me, which is, to find one of the windows unfinished. Is it from the forgetfulness or negligence of the workmen, or want of time, that they have not put the finishing stroke to so beautiful a piece of architecture?" "Sir," answered Aladdin, "it was for none of these reasons that your majesty sees it in this state. The omission was by design; it was by my orders that the workmen left it thus, since I wished that your majesty should have the glory of finishing this hall." "If you did it with this intention," replied the sultan, "I take it kindly, and will give orders about it immediately." He accordingly sent for the most considerable jewellers and goldsmiths in his capital.

Aladdin then conducted the sultan into the saloon where he had regaled his bride the preceding night. The princess entered immediately afterward, and received her father with an air that shewed how much she was satisfied with her marriage. Two tables were immediately spread with the most delicious meats, all served up in gold dishes. The sultan was much pleased with the cookery, and owned he had never eaten anything more excellent. He said the same of the wines, which were delicious; but what he most of all admired were four large buffets, profusely furnished with large flagons, basins, and cups, all of massy gold, set with jewels.

When the sultan rose from table, he was informed that the jewellers and goldsmiths attended; upon which he returned to the hall, and shewed them the window which was unfinished: "I sent for you," said he, "to fit up this window in as great perfection as the rest; examine well, and make all the despatch you can."

The jewellers and goldsmiths examined the three and twenty windows with great attention, and after they had consulted together they returned and presented themselves before the sultan, when the principal jeweller, undertaking to speak for the rest, said: "Sir, we are all willing to exert our utmost care and industry to obey your majesty; but among us all we cannot furnish jewels enough for so great a work." "I have more than are necessary," said the sultan; "come to my palace, and you shall choose what may answer your purpose."

When the sultan returned to his palace, he ordered his jewels to be brought out, and the jewellers took a great quantity, particularly those Aladdin had made him a present of, which they soon used, without making any great advance in their work. They came again several times for more, and in a month's time had not finished half their work. In short, they used all the jewels the sultan had, and borrowed of the vizier, but yet the work was not half done.

Aladdin, who knew that all the sultan's endeavours to make this window like the rest were in vain, sent for the jewellers and goldsmiths, and not only commanded them to desist from their work, but ordered them to undo what they had begun, and to carry all their jewels back to the sultan and to the vizier. They undid in a few hours what they had been six weeks about, and retired, leaving Aladdin alone in the hall. He took the lamp, which he carried about him, rubbed it, and presently the genie appeared. "Genie," said Aladdin, "I ordered thee to leave one of the four and twenty windows of this hall imperfect and thou hast executed my commands punctually; now I would have thee make it like the rest." The genie immediately disappeared. Aladdin went out of the hall, and returning soon after, found the window like the others.

In the meantime, the jewellers and goldsmiths repaired to the palace, and were introduced into the sultan's presence; where the chief jeweller, presenting the precious stones which he had brought back, said, in the name of all the rest: "Your majesty knows how long we have been upon the work you were pleased to set us about, in which we used all imaginable industry. It was far advanced, when Prince Aladdin commanded us not only to leave off, but to undo what we had already begun, and bring your majesty your jewels back." The sultan asked them if Aladdin had given them any reason for so doing, and they answering that he had given them none, he ordered a horse to be brought, which he mounted, and rode to his son-in-law's palace, with some few attendants on foot. When he came there, he alighted at the staircase, which led to the hall with the twenty-four windows, and went directly up to it, without giving previous notice to Aladdin; but it happened that at that very juncture Aladdin was opportunely there, and had just time to receive him at the door.

The sultan, without giving Aladdin time to complain obligingly of his not having given notice, that he might have acquitted himself with the more becoming respect, said to him: "Son, I come myself to know the reason why you commanded the jewellers to desist from work, and take to pieces what they had done."

Aladdin disguised the true reason, which was, that the sultan was not rich enough in jewels to be at so great an expense, but said: "I beg of you now to see if anything is wanting."

The sultan went directly to the window which was left imperfect, and when he found it like the rest, fancied that he was mistaken, examined the two windows on each side, and afterward all the four and twenty; but when he was convinced that the window which several workmen had been so long about was finished in so short a time, he embraced Aladdin, and kissed him between his eyes. "My son," said he, "what a man you are to do such surprising things always in the twinkling of an eye: there is not your fellow in the world; the more I know, the more I admire you."

Aladdin received these praises from the sultan with modesty, and replied in these words: "Sir, it is a great honour to me to deserve your majesty's goodwill and approbation, and I assure you, I shall study to deserve them more."

The sultan returned to his palace, but would not let Aladdin attend him. When he came there, he found his grand vizier waiting, to whom he related the wonder he had witnessed with the utmost admiration, and in such terms as left the minister no room to doubt but that the fact was as the sultan related it; though he was the more confirmed in his belief that Aladdin's palace was the effect of enchantment, as he had told the sultan the first moment he saw it. He was going to repeat the observation, but the sultan interrupted him, and said: "You told me so once before; I see, vizier, you have not forgotten your son's espousals to my daughter." The grand vizier plainly saw how much the sultan was prepossessed, therefore avoided disputes, and let him remain in his own opinion. The sultan as soon as he rose every morning went into the closet, to look at Aladdin's palace, and would go many times in a day to contemplate and admire it.

Aladdin did not confine himself in his palace; but took care to show himself once or twice a week in the town, by going sometimes to one mosque, and sometimes to another, to prayers; or to visit the grand vizier, who affected to pay his court to him on certain days; or to do the principal lords of the court the honour to return their visits after he had regaled them at his palace. Every time he went out, he caused two slaves, who walked by the side of his horse, to throw handfuls of money among the people as he passed through the streets and squares, which were generally on these occasions crowded. Besides, no one came to his palace gates to ask alms but returned satisfied with his liberality. In short, he so divided his time, that not a week passed but he went either once or twice a-hunting, sometimes in the environs of the city, sometimes farther off; at which time the villages through which he passed felt the effects of his generosity, which gained him the love and blessings of the people; and it was common for them to swear by his head. With all these good qualities he showed a zeal for the public good which could not be sufficiently applauded. He gave sufficient proofs of both in a revolt on the borders of the kingdom; for he no sooner understood that the sultan was levying an army to disperse the rebels than he begged the command of it, which he found not difficult to obtain. As soon as he was empowered, he marched with so much expedition, that the sultan heard of the defeat of the rebels before he had received an account of his son-in-law's arrival in the army.

Aladdin had conducted himself in this manner several years, when the African magician, who undesignedly had been the instrument of raising him to so high a pitch of prosperity, recalled him to his recollection in Africa, whither, after his expedition, he had returned. And though he was almost persuaded that Aladdin must have died miserably in the subterranean abode where he had left him, yet he had the curiosity to inform himself about his end with certainty; and as he was a great geomancer, he took out of a cupboard a square, covered box, which he used in his geomantic observations. After he had prepared and levelled the sand which was in it with an intention to discover whether or not Aladdin had died, he cast the points, drew the figures, and formed a horoscope, by which, when he came to examine it, he found that instead of dying in the cave, his victim had made his escape, lived splendidly, was in possession of the wonderful lamp, had married a princess, and was much honoured and respected.

The magician no sooner understood, by the rules of his diabolical art, that Aladdin had arrived to this height of good fortune, than his face became inflamed with anger, and he cried out in a rage: "This sorry tailor's son has discovered the secret and virtue of the lamp! I believed his death to be certain; but find that he enjoys the fruit of my labour and study! I will, however, prevent his enjoying it long, or perish in the attempt." He was not a great while deliberating on what he should do, but the next morning mounted a barb, set forward, and never stopped but to refresh himself and his horse, till he arrived at the capital of China. He alighted, took up his lodging in a khan, and stayed there the remainder of the day and the night.

The next day, his first object was to inquire what people said of Aladdin; and, taking a walk through the town, he went to the most public and frequented places, where persons of the best distinction met to drink a certain warm liquor, which he had drunk often during his former visit. As soon as he had seated himself, he was presented with a cup of it, which he took; but listening at the same time to the discourse of the company on each side of him, he heard them talking of Aladdin's palace. When he had drunk off his liquor, he joined them, and taking this opportunity, inquired particularly of what palace they spoke with so much commendation. "From whence come you?" said the person to whom he addressed himself; "you must certainly be a stranger not to have seen or heard talk of Prince Aladdin's palace. I do not say," continued the man, "that it is one of the wonders of the world, but that it is the only wonder of the world; since nothing so grand, rich, and magnificent was ever beheld. Go and see it, and then judge whether I have told you more than the truth." "Forgive my ignorance," replied the African magician; "I arrived here but yesterday from the farthest part of Africa, where the fame of this palace had not reached when I came away. The business which brought me hither was so urgent, that my sole object was to arrive as soon as I could, without stopping anywhere, or making any acquaintance. But I will not fail to go and see it, if you will do me the favour to show me the way thither."

The person to whom the African magician addressed himself took a pleasure in showing him the way to Aladdin's palace, and he got up and went thither instantly. When he came to the palace, and had examined it on all sides, he doubted not but that Aladdin had made use of the lamp to build it. Without attending to the inability of a poor tailor's son, he knew that none but the genies, the slaves of the lamp, could have performed such wonders; and piqued to the quick at Aladdin's happiness and splendour, he returned to the khan where he lodged.

The next point was to ascertain where the lamp was; whether Aladdin carried it about with him, or where he kept it; and this he was to discover by an operation of geomancy. As soon as he entered his lodging, he took his square box of sand, which he always carried with him when he travelled, and after he had performed some operations, he found that the lamp was in Aladdin's palace, and so great was his joy at the discovery that he could hardly contain himself. "Well," said he, "I shall have the lamp, and I defy Aladdin to prevent my carrying it off, thus making him sink to his original meanness, from which he has taken so high a flight."

It was Aladdin's misfortune at that time to be absent in the chase for eight days, and only three were expired, which the magician came to know. After he had performed the magical operation he went to the superintendent of the khan, entered into conversation with him on indifferent subjects, and among the rest, told him he had been to see Aladdin's palace; and after exaggerating on all that he had seen most worthy of observation, added: "But my curiosity leads me further, and I shall not be satisfied till I have seen the person to whom this wonderful edifice belongs." "That will be no difficult matter," replied the master of the khan; "there is not a day passes but he gives an opportunity when he is in town, but at present he has been gone these three days on a hunting-match, which will last eight."

The magician wanted to know no more; he took his leave of the superintendent of the khan, and returning to his own chamber, said to himself: "This is an opportunity I ought by no means to neglect." To that end, he went to a coppersmith and asked for a dozen copper lamps: the master of the shop told him he had not so many by him, but if he would have patience till the next day, he would have them ready. The magician appointed his time, and desired him to take care that they should be handsome and well polished. After promising to pay him well, he returned to his inn.

The next day the magician called for the twelve lamps, paid the man his full price, put them into a basket which he bought on purpose, and with the basket hanging on his arm, went directly to Aladdin's palace; as he approached beginning to cry: "Who will change old lamps for new ones?" As he went along, a crowd of children collected, who hooted, and thought him, as did all who chanced to be passing by, a madman or a fool.

The African magician regarded not their scoffs, hootings, or all they could say to him, but still continued crying: "Who will change old lamps for new?" He repeated this so often, walking backward and forward in front of the palace, that the princess, who was then in the hall with the four and twenty windows, hearing a man cry something and not being able to distinguish his words, owing to the hooting of the children, and increasing mob about him, sent one of her women slaves to know what he cried.

The slave was not long before she returned, and ran into the hall, laughing so heartily that the princess could not forbear herself. "Well, giggler," said the princess, "will you tell me what you laugh at?" "Madam," answered the slave, laughing still, "who can forbear laughing, to see a fool with a basket on his arm, full of fine new lamps, ask to change them for old ones?"

Another female slave hearing this, said: "Now you speak of lamps, I know not whether the princess may have observed it, but there is an old one upon a shelf of the prince's robing-room. If the princess chooses, she may have the pleasure of trying if this fool is so silly as to give a new lamp for an old one, without taking anything for the exchange."

The lamp this slave spoke of was the wonderful lamp, which Aladdin had laid upon the shelf before he departed for the chase: this he had done several times before; but neither the princess, the slaves, nor the eunuchs had ever taken notice of it. At all other times except when hunting he carried it about his person.

The princess, who knew not the value of this lamp, and the interest that Aladdin, not to mention herself, had to keep it safe, entered into the pleasantry, and commanded a eunuch to take it and make the exchange. The eunuch obeyed, went out of the hall, and no sooner got to the palace gates than he saw the African magician, called to him, and showing him the old lamp, said: "Give me a new lamp for this?"

The magician never doubted but this was the lamp he wanted. There could be no other such in the palace, where every utensil was gold or silver. He snatched it eagerly out of the eunuch's hand, and thrusting it as far as he could into his breast, offered him his basket, and bade him choose which he liked best. The eunuch picked out one, and carried it to the princess; but the exchange was no sooner made than the place rang with the shouts of the children, deriding the magician's folly.

The African magician gave everybody leave to laugh as much as they pleased; he stayed not long near the palace, but made the best of his way, without crying any longer; "New lamps for old ones." His end was answered, and by his silence he got rid of the children and the mob.

As soon as he was out of the square between the two palaces, he hastened down the streets which were the least frequented; and having no more occasion for his lamps or basket, set all down in an alley where nobody saw him: then going down another street or two, he walked till he came to one of the city gates, and pursuing his way through the suburbs, which were very extensive, at length reached a lonely spot, where he stopped for a time to execute the design he had in contemplation, never caring for his horse which he had left at the khan; but thinking himself perfectly compensated by the treasure he had acquired.

In this place the African magician passed the remainder of the day, till the darkest time of night, when he pulled the lamp out of his breast and rubbed it. At that summons the genie appeared, and said: "What wouldst thou have? I am ready to obey thee as thy slave, and the slave of all those who have that lamp in their hands; both I and the other slaves of the lamp." "I command thee," replied the magician, "to transport me immediately and the palace which thou and the other slaves of the lamp have built in this city, with all the people in it, to Africa." The genie made no reply, but with the assistance of the other genies, the slaves of the lamp immediately transported him, and the palace entire, to the spot whither he was desired to convey it.

As soon as the sultan rose the next morning, according to custom, he went into his closet, to have the pleasure of contemplating and admiring Aladdin's palace; but when he first looked that way, and instead of a palace saw an empty space such as it was before the palace was built, he thought he was mistaken, and rubbed his eyes; but when he looked again, he still saw nothing more the second time than the first, though the weather was fine, the sky clear, and the dawn advancing had made all objects very distinct. He looked again in front, to the right and left, but beheld nothing more than he had formerly been used to see from his window. His amazement was so great, that he stood for some time turning his eyes to the spot where the palace had stood, but where it was no longer to be seen. He could not comprehend how so large a palace as Aladdin's, which he had seen plainly every day for some years, and but the day before, should vanish so soon, and not leave the least remains behind.

"Certainly," said he to himself, "I am not mistaken; it stood there: if it had fallen, the materials would have lain in heaps; and if it had been swallowed up by an earthquake, there would be some mark left." At last he retired to his apartment, not without looking behind him before he quitted the spot, ordered the grand vizier to be sent for with expedition, and in the meantime sat down, his mind agitated by so many different conjectures that he knew not what to resolve.

The grand vizier did not make the sultan wait long for him, but came with so much precipitation, that neither he nor his attendants, as they passed, missed Aladdin's palace; neither did the porters, when they opened the palace gates, observe any alteration.

When he came into the sultan's presence, he said to him: "The haste in which your majesty sent for me makes me believe something extraordinary has happened, since you know this is a day of public audience, and I should not have failed of attending at the usual time." "Indeed," said the sultan, "it is something very extraordinary, as you say, and you will allow it to be so: tell me what is become of Aladdin's palace?" "His palace!" replied the grand vizier in amazement; "I thought as I passed it stood in its usual place." "Go into my closet," said the sultan, "and tell me if you can see it."

The grand vizier went into the closet, where he was struck with no less amazement than the sultan had been. When he was well assured that there was not the least appearance of the palace, he returned to the sultan. "Well," said the sultan, "have you seen Aladdin's palace?" "No," answered the vizier, "but your majesty may remember, that I had the honour to tell you, that the edifice, which was the subject of your admiration, was only the work of magic and a magician; but your majesty would not pay the least attention to what I said." The sultan, who could not deny what the grand vizier had represented to him, flew into the greater passion: "Where is that impostor, that wicked wretch," said he, "that I may have his head taken off immediately?" "Sir," replied the grand vizier, "it is some days since he came to take his leave of your majesty, on pretence of hunting; he ought to be sent for, to know what is become of his palace, since he cannot be ignorant of what has been transacted." "To send for him would be too great an indulgence," replied the sultan: "command a detachment of horse to bring him to me loaded with chains." The grand vizier gave orders for a detachment, and instructed the officer who commanded the men how they were to act, that Aladdin might not escape. The detachment pursued its orders; and about five or six leagues from the town met him returning from the chase. The officer advanced respectfully, and informed him the sultan was so impatient to see him, that he had sent his party to accompany him home.

Aladdin had not the least suspicion of the true reason of their meeting him; but when he came within half a league of the city, the detachment surrounded him, when the officer addressed himself to him, and said; "Prince, it is with great regret that I declare to you the sultan's order to arrest you, and to carry you before him as a criminal: I beg of you not to take it ill that we acquit ourselves of our duty, and to forgive us." Aladdin, who felt himself innocent, was much surprised at this declaration, and asked the officer if he knew what crime he was accused of; who replied, he did not. Then Aladdin, finding that his retinue was much inferior to this detachment, alighted from his horse, and said to the officers: "Execute your orders; I am not conscious that I have committed any offence against the sultan's person or government." A heavy chain was immediately put about his neck, and fastened round his body, so that both his arms were pinioned down; the officer then put himself at the head of the detachment, and one of the troopers taking hold of the end of the chain and proceeding after the officer, led Aladdin, who was obliged to follow him on foot, into the city.

When this detachment entered the suburbs, the people, who saw Aladdin thus led as a state criminal, never doubted but that his head was to be cut off; and as he was generally beloved, some took sabres and other arms; and those who had none gathered stones, and followed the escort. Their numbers presently increased so much, that the soldiery began to think it would be well if they could get into the sultan's palace before Aladdin was rescued; to prevent which, according to the different extent of the streets, they took care to cover the ground by extending or closing. In this manner they with much difficulty arrived at the palace square, and there drew up in a line, till their officer and troopers with Aladdin had got within the gates, which were immediately shut.

Aladdin was carried before the sultan, who waited for him, attended by the grand vizier; and as soon as he saw him he ordered the executioner, who waited there for the purpose, to strike off his head without hearing him, or giving him leave to clear himself. As soon as the executioner had taken off the chain that was fastened about Aladdin's neck and body, he made the supposed criminal kneel down, and tied a bandage over his eyes. Then drawing his sabre, he took his aim by flourishing it three times in the air, waiting for the sultan's giving the signal to strike.

At that instant the grand vizier perceiving that the populace had crowded the great square before the palace, and were scaling the walls in several places, said to the sultan, before he gave the signal: "I beg of your majesty to consider what you are going to do, since you will hazard your palace being destroyed; and who knows what fatal consequence may follow?" "My palace forced!" replied the sultan; "who can have that audacity?" "Sir," answered the grand vizier, "if your majesty will but cast your eyes toward the great square, and on the palace walls, you will perceive the truth of what I say."

The sultan was so much alarmed when he saw so great a crowd, and how enraged they were, that he ordered the executioner to put his sabre immediately into the scabbard, to unbind Aladdin, and at the same time commanded the porters to declare to the people that the sultan had pardoned him, and that they might retire. Those who had already got upon the walls abandoned their design and got quickly down, overjoyed that they had saved the life of a man they dearly loved, and published the news amongst the rest, which was presently confirmed by the mace-bearers from the top of the terraces. The justice which the sultan had done to Aladdin soon disarmed the populace of their rage; the tumult abated and the mob dispersed.

When Aladdin found himself at liberty, he turned toward the balcony, and perceiving the sultan, raised his voice, and said to him in a moving manner: "I beg of your majesty to add one favour more to that which I have already received, which is, to let me know my crime?" "Your crime," answered the sultan; "perfidious wretch! Do you not know it? Come hither, and I will show it you." Aladdin went up, when the sultan, going before him without looking at him, said: "Follow me;" and then led him into his closet. When he came to the door, he said: "Go in; you ought to know whereabouts your palace stood: look round and tell me what is become of it?"

Aladdin looked, but saw nothing. He perceived the spot upon which his palace had stood; but not being able to divine how it had disappeared, was thrown into such great confusion and amazement that he could not return one word of answer. The sultan, growing impatient, demanded of him again: "Where is your palace, and what is become of my daughter?" Aladdin, breaking silence, replied: "Sir, I perceive and own that the palace which I have built is not in its place, but is vanished; neither can I tell your majesty where it may be, but can assure you I had no concern in its removal."

"I am not so much concerned about your palace," replied the sultan; "I value my daughter ten thousand times more, and would have you find her out, otherwise I will cause your head to be struck off, and no consideration shall divert me from my purpose."

"I beg of your majesty," answered Aladdin, "to grant me forty days to make my inquiries; and if in that time I have not the success I wish, I will offer my head at the foot of your throne, to be disposed of at your pleasure." "I give you the forty days you ask," said the sultan; "but think not to escape my resentment if you fail; for I will find you out in whatsoever part of the world you may conceal yourself."

Aladdin went out of the sultan's presence with great humiliation, and in a condition worthy of pity. He crossed the courts of the palace, hanging down his head, and in such great confusion that he durst not lift up his eyes. The principal officers of the court, who had all professed themselves his friends, instead of going up to him to comfort him, turned their backs to avoid seeing him. But had they accosted him with an offer of service, they would have no more known Aladdin. He did not know himself, and was no longer in his senses, as plainly appeared by his asking everybody he met, and at every house, if they had seen his palace, or could tell him any news of it. These questions made the generality believe that Aladdin was mad. Some laughed at him, but people of sense and humanity, particularly those who had had any connection of business or friendship with him, really pitied him. For three days he rambled about the city in this manner, without coming to any resolution or eating anything but what some compassionate people forced him to take out of charity. At last he took the road to the country; and after he had traversed several fields in wild uncertainty, at the approach of night came to the bank of a river. There, possessed by his despair, he said to himself: "Where shall I seek my palace? In what province, country, or part of the world, shall I find that and my dear princess? I shall never succeed; I would better free myself at once from fruitless endeavours, and such bitter grief as preys upon me." He was just going to throw himself into the river, but, as a good Mussulman, true to his religion, he thought he should not do it without first saying his prayers. Going to prepare himself, he went to the river's brink, in order to perform the usual ablutions. The place being steep and slippery, he slid down, and had certainly fallen into the river, but for a little rock, which projected about two feet out of the earth. Happily also for him, he still had on the ring which the African magician had put on his finger before he went down into the subterranean abode to fetch the precious lamp. In slipping down the bank he rubbed the ring so hard by holding on the rock, that immediately the same genie appeared whom he had seen in the cave where the magician had left him. "What wouldst thou have?" said the genie. "I am ready to obey thee as thy slave, and the slave of all those that have that ring on their finger; both I and the other slaves of the ring."

Aladdin, agreeably surprised at an apparition he so little expected in his present calamity, replied; "Save my life, genie, a second time, either by showing me to the place where the palace I caused to be built now stands, or immediately transporting it back where it first stood." "What you command me," answered the genie, "is not wholly in my power; I am only the slave of the ring; you must address yourself to the slave of the lamp." "If that be the case," replied Aladdin, "I command thee, by the power of the ring, to transport me to the spot where my palace stands, in what part of the world soever it may be, and set me down under the window of the Princess Badroulboudour." These words were no sooner out of his mouth than the genie transported him into Africa, to the midst of a large plain, where his palace stood, and placing him exactly under the window of the princess's apartment, left him. All this was done almost in an instant. Aladdin, notwithstanding the darkness of the night, knew his palace again; but as the night was far advanced and all was quiet, he retired to some distance, and sat down at the foot of a large tree. There, full of hopes, and reflecting on his happiness, for which he was indebted to chance, he found himself in a much more comfortable situation than when he was arrested and carried before the sultan, being now delivered from the immediate danger of losing his life. He amused himself for some time with these agreeable thoughts; but not having slept for two days, was unable to resist the drowsiness which came upon him, but fell fast asleep.

The next morning, as soon as day appeared, Aladdin was agreeably awakened by the singing not only of the birds which had roosted in the tree under which he had passed the night, but also of those which frequented the thick groves of the palace garden. When he cast his eyes on that wonderful edifice, he felt inexpressible joy at thinking he might soon be master of it again, and once more greet his dear Princess Badroulboudour. Pleased with these hopes, he immediately arose, went toward the princess's apartment, and walked some time under her window in expectation of her rising, that he might see her. During this expectation, he began to consider with himself whence the cause of his misfortune had proceeded; and after mature reflection, no longer doubted that it was owing to having trusted the lamp out of his sight. He accused himself of negligence in letting it be a moment away from him. But what puzzled him most was, that he could not imagine who had been so envious of his happiness. He would soon have guessed this, if he had known that both he and his palace were now in Africa, the very name of which would soon have made him remember the magician, his declared enemy; but the genie, the slave of the ring, had not made mention of the name of the country, nor had Aladdin inquired.

The princess rose earlier that morning than she had done since her transportation into Africa by the magician, whose presence she was forced to support once a day, because he was master of the palace; though she had always treated him so harshly that he dared not reside in it. As she was dressing, one of the women looking through the window perceived Aladdin, and instantly told her mistress. The princess, who could not believe the joyful tidings, hastened herself to the window, and seeing Aladdin, immediately opened it. The noise of opening the window made Aladdin turn his head that way, and perceiving the princess he saluted her with joy. "To lose no time," said she to him, "I have sent to have the private door opened for you; enter, and come up." The private door, which was just under the princess's apartment, was soon opened, and Aladdin conducted up into the chamber. It is impossible to express the joy of both at seeing each other, after so cruel a separation. After embracing and shedding tears of joy, they sat down, and Aladdin said: "I beg of you, princess, in Heaven's name, before we talk of anything else, to tell me, both for your own sake, the sultan your father's, and mine, what is become of an old lamp which I left upon a shelf in my robing-chamber, when I departed for the chase."

"Alas! dear husband," answered the princess, "I was afraid our misfortune might be owing to that lamp: and what grieves me most is, that I have been the cause of it." "Princess," replied Aladdin, "do not blame yourself, for I ought to have taken more care of it. But let us now think only of repairing the loss; tell me what has happened, and into whose hands it has fallen." The princess then related how she had changed the old lamp for a new one, and how the next morning she found herself in the unknown country they were then in, which she was told was Africa, by the traitor who had transported her thither by his magic art.

"Princess," said Aladdin, interrupting her, "you have informed me who the traitor is, by telling me we are in Africa. He is the most perfidious of men; but this is neither a time nor place to give you a full account of his villainies. I desire you only to tell me what he has done with the lamp, and where he has put it." "He carries it carefully wrapt up in his bosom," said the princess; "and this I can assure you, because he pulled it out before me, and showed it to me in triumph."

"Princess," said Aladdin, "do not be displeased that I trouble you with so many questions, since they are equally important to us both. But to come to what most particularly concerns me: tell me, I conjure you, how so wicked and perfidious a man treats you?" "Since I have been here," replied the princess, "he repairs once every day to see me; and I am persuaded the little satisfaction he receives from his visits makes him come no oftener. All his addresses tend to persuade me to break that faith I have pledged to you, and to take him for my husband; giving me to understand I need not entertain hopes of ever seeing you again, for that you were dead, having had your head struck off by my father's order. He added, to justify himself, that you were an ungrateful wretch; that your good fortune was owing to him, and a great many other things of that nature which I forbear to repeat: but as he received no other answer from me but grievous complaints and tears, he was always forced to retire with as little satisfaction as he came. I doubt not his intention is to allow me time to overcome my grief, in hopes that afterward I may change my sentiments. But my dear husband's presence removes all my apprehensions."

"I am confident my attempts to punish the magician will not be in vain," replied Aladdin, "since my princess's fears are removed, and I think I have found the means to deliver you from both your enemy and mine; to execute this design, it is necessary for me to go to the town. I shall return by noon, will then communicate my design, and what must be done by you to ensure success. But that you may not be surprised, I think it proper to acquaint you that I shall change my apparel, and beg of you to give orders that I may not wait long at the private door, but that it may be opened at the first knock."

When Aladdin was out of the palace, he looked round him on all sides, and perceiving a peasant going into the country, hastened after him; and when he had overtaken him, made a proposal to him to change habits, which the man agreed to. When they had made the exchange, the countryman went about his business, and Aladdin to the city. After traversing several streets, he came to that part of the town where all descriptions of merchants had their particular streets, according to their trades. He went into that of the druggists; and going into one of the largest and best-furnished shops, asked the druggist if he had a certain powder which he named. The druggist, judging Aladdin by his habit to be very poor, and that he had not money enough to pay for it, told him he had it, but that it was very dear; upon which Aladdin penetrating his thoughts, pulled out his purse, and showing him some gold, asked for half a drachm of the powder; which the druggist weighed, wrapped up in paper, and gave him, telling him the price was a piece of gold. Aladdin put the money into his hand, and returned to the palace, where he waited not long at the private door. When he came into the princess's apartment, he said to her: "Princess, perhaps the aversion you tell me you have for your captor may be an objection to your executing what I am going to propose; but permit me to say it is proper that you should dissemble a little, and do violence to your inclinations, if you would deliver yourself from him.

"If you will take my advice," continued he, "dress yourself this moment in one of your richest habits, and when the African magician comes, make no difficulty to give him the best reception; so that he may imagine time has removed your disgust at his addresses. In your conversation let him understand that you strive to forget me; and that he may be the more fully convinced, invite him to sup with you, and tell him you should be glad to taste of some of the best wines of his country. He will presently go to fetch you some. During his absence, put into one of the cups which you are accustomed to drink of, this powder, and setting it by, charge the slave you may order that night to attend you, on a signal you shall agree upon, to bring that cup to you. When the magician and you have eaten and drunk as much as you choose, let her bring you the cup, and then change cups with him. He will esteem it so great a favour that he will not refuse, but eagerly quaff it off; but no sooner will he have drunk, than you will see him fall backward."

When Aladdin had finished, "I own," answered the princess, "I shall do myself violence in consenting to make the magician such advances; but what cannot one resolve to do against a cruel enemy? I will therefore follow your advice, since both my repose and yours depend upon it." After the princess had agreed to the measures proposed by Aladdin, he took his leave and went and spent the rest of the day in the neighbourhood of the palace till it was night, and he might safely return to the private door.

The princess, who had remained inconsolable at being parted from her husband, had, ever since their cruel separation, lived in great neglect of her person. She had almost forgotten the neatness so becoming persons of her sex and quality, particularly after the first time the magician paid her a visit and she had understood by some of the women, who knew him again, that it was he who had taken the old lamp in exchange for a new one. However, the opportunity of taking the revenge he deserved made her resolve to gratify Aladdin. As soon, therefore, as he was gone, she sat down to dress, and was attired by her women to the best advantage in the richest habit of her wardrobe. Her girdle was of the finest and largest diamonds set in gold, her necklace of pearls, six on a side, so well proportioned to that in the middle, which was the largest ever seen, that the greatest sultanesses would have been proud to have been adorned with only two of the smallest. Her bracelets, which were of diamonds and rubies intermixed, corresponded admirably to the richness of the girdle and necklace.

When the Princess Badroulboudour was completely dressed, she consulted her glass and women upon her adjustment; and when she found she wanted no charms to flatter the foolish passion of the African magician, she sat down on a sofa expecting his arrival. The magician came at the usual hour, and as soon as he entered the great hall where the princess waited to receive him, she rose with an enchanting grace and smile, and pointed with her hand to the most honourable place, waiting till he sat down, that she might sit at the same time, which was a civility she had never shown him before.

The African magician, dazzled more with the lustre of the princess's eyes than the glittering of her jewels, was much surprised. The smiling air with which she received him, so opposite to her former behaviour, quite fascinated his heart. When he was seated, the princess, to free him from his embarrassment, broke silence first, looking at him all the time in such a manner as to make him believe that he was not so odious to her as she had given him to understand hitherto, and said; "You are doubtless amazed to find me so much altered to-day; but your surprise will not be so great when I acquaint you, that I am naturally of a disposition so opposite to melancholy and grief, that I always strive to put them as far away as possible when I find the subject of them is past. I have reflected on what you told me of Aladdin's fate, and know my father's temper so well that I am persuaded, with you, he could not escape the terrible effects of the sultan's rage: therefore, should I continue to lament him all my life, my tears cannot recall him. For this reason, since I have paid all the duties decency requires of me to his memory, now he is in the grave I think I ought to endeavour to comfort myself. These are the motives of the change you see in me; I am resolved to banish melancholy entirely; and persuaded that you will bear me company to-night, I have ordered a supper to be prepared; but as I have no wines but those of China, I have a great desire to taste of the produce of Africa, and doubt not your procuring some of the best."

The African magician, who had looked upon the happiness of getting so soon and so easily into the Princess Badroulboudour's good graces as impossible, could not think of words expressive enough to testify how sensible he was of her favours: but to put an end the sooner to a conversation which would have embarrassed him, if he had engaged farther in it, he turned it upon the wines of Africa, and said: "Of all the advantages Africa can boast, that of producing the most excellent wines is one of the principal. I have a vessel of seven years old, which has never been broached; and it is indeed not praising it too much to say it is the finest wine in the world. If my princess," added he, "will give me leave, I will go and fetch two bottles, and return again immediately." "I should be sorry to give you that trouble," replied the princess; "you had better send for them." "It is necessary I should go myself," answered the African magician, "for nobody but myself knows where the key of the cellar is laid, or has the secret to unlock the door." "If it be so," said the princess, "make haste back; for the longer you stay the greater will be my impatience, and we shall sit down to supper as soon as you return." The African magician, full of hopes of his expected happiness, rather flew than ran, and returned quickly with the wine. The princess, not doubting but he would make haste, put with her own hand the powder Aladdin had given her into the cup set apart for that purpose. They sat down at the table opposite to each other, the magician's back toward the buffet. The princess presented him with the best at the table, and said to him: "If you please, I will entertain you with a concert of vocal and instrumental music; but as we are only two, I think conversation may be more agreeable." This the magician took as a new favour. After they had eaten some time, the princess called for some wine, drank the magician's health, and afterward said to him: "Indeed you had a full right to commend your wine, since I never tasted any so delicious." "Charming princess," said he, holding in his hand the cup which had been presented to him, "my wine becomes more exquisite by your approbation." "Then drink my health," replied the princess: "you will find I understand wines." He drank the princess's health, and returning the cup said; "I think myself fortunate, princess, that I reserved this wine for so happy an occasion; and own I never before drank any in every respect so excellent." When they had each drunk two or three cups more, the princess, who had completely charmed the African magician by her obliging behaviour, gave the signal to the slave who served them with wine, bidding her bring the cup which had been filled for herself, and at the same time bring the magician a full goblet. When they both had their cups in their hands, she said to him: "I know not how you express your loves in these parts when drinking together. With us in China lovers reciprocally exchange cups, and drink each other's health:" at the same time she presented to him the cup which was in her hand, and held out her hand to receive his. He hastened to make the exchange with the more pleasure, because he looked upon this favour as a token of conquest over the princess, which raised his rapture to the highest pitch. Before he drank, he said to her, with the cup in his hand: "Indeed, princess, we Africans are not so refined in the art of love as you Chinese: and your instructing me in a lesson I was ignorant of, informs me how sensible I ought to be of the favour done me. I shall never, lovely princess, forget my recovering, by drinking out of your cup, that life, which your cruelty, had it continued, must have made me despair of."

The princess, who began to be tired with his declarations, interrupted him and said: "Let us drink first, and then say what you will afterward:" at the same time she set the cup to her lips, while the African magician, who was eager to get his wine off first, drank up the very last drop. In finishing it, he leaned his head back to show his eagerness, and remained some time in that state. The princess kept the cup at her lips till she saw his eyes turn in his head, when he fell backward lifeless on the sofa. The princess had no occasion to order the private door to be opened to Aladdin; for her women were so disposed from the great hall to the foot of the staircase, that the word was no sooner given that the magician was fallen, than the door was immediately opened. As soon as Aladdin entered the hall, he saw the magician stretched backward on the sofa. The princess rose from her seat, and ran overjoyed to embrace him; but he stopped her and said: "Princess, it is not yet time; let me be left alone a moment, while I endeavour to transport you back to China as speedily as you were brought from thence." When the princess, her women and eunuchs, were gone out of the hall, Aladdin shut the door, and, going directly to the dead body of the magician, opened his vest, took out the lamp which was carefully wrapped up, as the princess had told him, and unfolding and rubbing it, the genie immediately appeared. "Genie," said Aladdin, "I have called to command thee, on the part of thy good mistress, this lamp, to transport this palace instantly into China, to the place from whence it was brought hither." The genie bowed his head in token of obedience, and disappeared. Immediately the palace was transported into China, and its removal was only felt by two little shocks, the one when it was lifted up, the other when it was set down, and both in a very short interval of time.

From the time of the transportation of Aladdin's palace, the princess's father had been inconsolable for the loss of her. Before the disaster he used to go every morning into his closet to please himself with viewing the palace; he went now many times in the day to renew his tears, and plunge himself into the deepest melancholy, by reflecting how he had lost what was most dear to him in this world.

The very morning of the return to the palace, the sultan went into his closet to indulge his sorrows. Absorbed in himself, and in a pensive mood, he cast his eyes toward the spot, expecting only to see an open space; but perceiving the vacancy filled up, he at first imagined the appearance to be the effect of a fog; looking more attentively, he was convinced beyond the power of doubt that it was his son-in-law's palace. Joy and gladness succeeded to sorrow and grief. He returned immediately into his apartment, and ordered a horse to be saddled and brought to him without delay, which he mounted that instant, thinking he could not make haste enough to the palace.

Aladdin, who foresaw what would happen, rose that morning by daybreak, put on one of the most magnificent habits his wardrobe afforded, and went up into the hall of twenty-four windows, from whence he perceived the sultan approaching, and got down soon enough to receive him at the foot of the great staircase. "Aladdin," said the sultan, "I cannot speak to you till I have seen and embraced my daughter." The happy father was then led to the princess's apartment and embraced her with his face bathed in tears of joy. The sultan was some time before he could open his lips, so great was his surprise and joy to find his daughter again, after he had given her up for lost; and the princess, upon seeing her father, let fall tears of rapture and affection.

At last the sultan broke silence, and said: "I would believe, daughter, your joy to see me makes you seem as little changed as if no misfortune had befallen you; yet I cannot be persuaded but that you have suffered much alarm; for a large palace cannot be so suddenly transported as yours has been, without causing great fright and apprehension. I would have you tell me all that has happened, and conceal nothing from me."

The princess, who took great pleasure in giving the sultan the satisfaction he demanded, said: "If I appear so little altered, I beg of your majesty to consider that I received new life yesterday morning by the presence of my dear husband and deliverer, Aladdin, whom I looked upon and bewailed as lost to me. My greatest suffering was to find myself forced not only from your majesty, but from my dear husband; not only from the love I bore him, but from the uneasiness I laboured under through fear that he, though innocent, might feel the effects of your anger. As to what relates to my transportation, I was myself the innocent cause of it." To persuade the sultan of the truth of what she said, she gave him a full account of how the African magician had disguised himself, and offered to change new lamps for old ones; how she had amused herself in making that exchange; how the palace and herself were carried away and transported into Africa, with the magician, who was recognised by two of her women and the eunuch who made the exchange of the lamp, when he had the audacity, after the success of his daring enterprise, to propose himself for her husband; how he persecuted her till Aladdin's arrival; how they had concerted measures to get the lamp from him again, and the success they had fortunately met with by her dissimulation in inviting him to supper, and giving him the cup with the powder prepared for him. "For the rest," added she, "I leave it to Aladdin to recount."

Aladdin had not much to tell the sultan, but only said: "When the private door was opened I went up into the great hall, where I found the magician lying dead on the sofa; and as I thought it not proper for the princess to stay there any longer, I desired her to go down into her own apartment, with her women and eunuchs. As soon as I was alone, and had taken the lamp out of the magician's breast, I made use of the same secret he had done, to remove the palace, and carry off the princess; and by that means the palace was reconveyed to the place where it stood before; and I have the happiness to restore the princess to your majesty. But that your majesty may not think that I impose upon you, if you will give yourself the trouble to go up into the hall, you may see the magician punished as he deserved."

The sultan rose instantly and went into the hall, where, when he saw the African magician dead, and his face already livid by the strength of the poison, he embraced Aladdin with great tenderness, and said: "My son, be not displeased at my proceedings against you; they arose from my paternal love; and therefore you ought to forgive the excesses to which it hurried me." "Sir," replied Aladdin, "I have not the least reason to complain of your majesty's conduct, since you did nothing but what your duty required. This infamous magician, the basest of men, was the sole cause of my misfortune. When your majesty has leisure, I will give you an account of another villainous action he was guilty of toward me, which was no less black and base than this." "I will take an opportunity, and that very shortly," replied the sultan, "to hear it; but in the meantime let us think only of rejoicing."

The sultan then commanded the drums, trumpets, cymbals, and other instruments of music to announce his joy to the public, and a festival of ten days to be proclaimed for the return of the princess and Aladdin.

Within a few years afterward, the sultan died in a good old age, and as he left no male children, the Princess Badroulboudour, as lawful heir of the throne, succeeded him, and communicating the power to Aladdin, they reigned together many years, and left a numerous and illustrious progeny.

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THE STORY OF PRINCE AGIB

I was a king, and the son of a king; and when my father died, I succeeded to his throne, and governed my subjects with justice and beneficence. I took pleasure in sea-voyages; and my capital was on the shore of an extensive sea, interspersed with fortified and garrisoned islands, which I desired, for my amusement, to visit; I therefore embarked with a fleet of ten ships, and took with me provisions sufficient for a whole month. I proceeded twenty days, after which there arose against us a contrary wind; but at daybreak it ceased, and the sea became calm, and we arrived at an island, where we landed, and cooked some provisions and ate; after which we remained there two days. We then continued our voyage; and when twenty days more had passed, we found ourselves in strange waters, unknown to the captain, and desired the watch to look out from the mast head: so he went aloft, and when he had come down he said to the captain: "I saw, on my right hand, fish floating upon the surface of the water; and looking toward the midst of the sea, I perceived something looming in the distance, sometimes black, and sometimes white."

When the captain heard this report of the watch, he threw his turban on the deck, and plucked his beard, and said to those who were with him: "Receive warning of our destruction, which will befall all of us: not one will escape!" So saying, he began to weep; and all of us in like manner bewailed our lot. I desired him to inform us of that which the watch had seen. "O my lord," he replied, "know that we have wandered from our course since the commencement of the contrary wind that was followed in the morning by a calm, in consequence of which we remained stationary two days: from that period we have deviated from our course for twenty-one days, and we have no wind to carry us back from the fate which awaits us after this day. To-morrow we shall arrive at a mountain of black stone, called loadstone: the current is now bearing us violently toward it, and the ships will fall in pieces, and every nail in them will fly to the mountain, and adhere to it; for God hath given to the loadstone a secret property by virtue of which everything of iron is attracted toward it. On that mountain is such a quantity of iron as no one knoweth but God, whose name be exalted; for from times of old great numbers of ships have been destroyed by the influence of that mountain. There is, upon the summit of the mountain, a cupola of brass supported by ten columns, and upon the top of this is a horseman upon a horse of brass, having in his hand a brazen spear, and upon his breast suspended a tablet of lead, upon which are engraved mysterious names and talismans: and as long, O King, as this horseman remains upon the horse, so long will every ship that approaches be destroyed, with every person on board, and all the iron contained in it will cleave to the mountain: no one will be safe until the horseman shall have fallen from the horse." The captain then wept bitterly; and we felt assured that our destruction was inevitable, and every one of us bade adieu to his friend.

On the following morning we drew near to the mountain; the current carried us toward it with violence, and when the ships were almost close to it, they fell asunder, and all the nails, and everything else that was of iron, flew from them toward the loadstone. It was near the close of day when the ships fell in pieces. Some of us were drowned, and some escaped; but the greater number were drowned, and of those who saved their lives none know what became of the others, so stupefied were they by the waves and the boisterous wind. As for myself, God, whose name be exalted, spared me on account of the trouble and torment and affliction that He had predestined to befall me. I placed myself upon a plank, and the wind and waves cast it upon the mountain; and when I had landed, I found a practicable way to the summit, resembling steps cut in the rock: so I exclaimed: "In the name of God!" and offered up a prayer, and attempted the ascent, holding fast by the notches; and presently God stilled the wind, so that I arrived in safety at the summit. Rejoicing greatly in my escape, I immediately entered the cupola, and performed prayers in gratitude to God for my preservation; after which I slept beneath the cupola, and heard a voice saying to me: "O son of Khasib, when thou awakest, dig beneath thy feet, and thou wilt find a bow of brass, and three arrows of lead, whereon are engraved talismans: then take the bow and arrows and shoot at the horseman that is upon the top of the cupola, and relieve mankind from this great affliction; for when thou hast shot at the horseman he will fall into the sea; the bow will also fall, and do thou bury it in its place; and as soon as thou hast done this, the sea will swell and rise until it attains the summit of the mountain; and there will appear upon it a boat bearing a man, different from him whom thou shalt have cast down, and he will come to thee, having an oar in his hand: then do thou embark with him; but utter not the name of God; and he will convey thee in ten days to a safe sea, where, on thy arrival, thou wilt find one who will take thee to thy city. All this shall be done if thou utter not the name of God."

Awaking from my sleep, I sprang up, and did as the voice had directed. I shot at the horseman, and he fell into the sea; and the bow having fallen from my hand, I buried it: the sea then became troubled, and rose to the summit of the mountain, and when I had stood waiting there a little while, I beheld a boat in the midst of the sea, approaching me. I praised God, whose name be exalted, and when the boat came to me, I found in it a man of brass, with a tablet of lead upon his breast, engraven with names and talismans. Without uttering a word, I embarked in the boat, and the man rowed me ten successive days, after which I beheld the islands of security, whereupon, in the excess of my joy, I exclaimed: "There is no deity but God! God is most great!"—and as soon as I had done this, the man cast me out of the boat, and sank in the sea.

And when the boat came to me I found in it a man of brass, with a tablet of lead upon his breast, engraven with names and talismans.

Being able to swim, I swam until night, when my arms and shoulders were tired, and, in this perilous situation, I repeated the profession of the faith, and gave myself up as lost; but the sea rose with the violence of the wind, and a wave like a vast castle threw me upon the land, in order to the accomplishment of the purpose of God. I ascended the shore, and after I had wrung out my clothes, and spread them upon the ground to dry, I slept; and in the morning I put on my clothes again, and, looking about to see which way I should go, I found a tract covered with trees; and when I had walked round it, I found that I was upon a small island in the midst of the sea; upon which I said within myself: "Every time that I escape from one calamity I fall into another that is worse:" but while I was reflecting upon my unfortunate case, and wishing for death, I beheld a vessel bearing a number of men. I arose immediately, and climbed into a tree; and lo, the vessel came to the shore, and there landed from it ten black slaves bearing axes. They proceeded to the middle of the island, and, digging up the earth, uncovered and lifted up a trap-door, after which they returned to the vessel, and brought from it bread and flour, and clarified butter and honey, and sheep and everything that the wants of an inhabitant would require, continuing to pass backward and forward between the vessel and the trap-door, bringing loads from the former, and entering the latter, until they had removed all the stores from the ship. They then came out of the vessel with various clothes of the most beautiful description, and in the midst of them was an old sheikh, enfeebled and wasted by extreme age, leading by the hand a young man cast in the mould of graceful symmetry, and invested with such perfect beauty as deserved to be a subject for proverbs. He was like a fresh and slender twig, enchanting and captivating every heart by his elegant form. The party proceeded to the trap-door, and, entering it, became concealed from my eyes.

They remained beneath about two hours, or more; after which, the sheikh and the slaves came out; but the youth came not with them; and they replaced the earth, and embarked and set sail. Soon after, I descended from the tree, and went to the excavation. I removed the earth, and, entering the aperture, saw a flight of wooden steps, which I descended; and, at the bottom, I beheld a handsome dwelling-place, furnished with a variety of silken carpets; and there was the youth, sitting upon a high mattress, with sweet-smelling flowers and fruits placed before him. On seeing me, his countenance became pale; but I saluted him, and said: "Let thy mind be composed, O my master: thou hast nothing to fear; for I am a man, and the son of a king, like thyself: fate hath impelled me to thee, that I may cheer thee in thy solitude." The youth, when he heard me thus address him, and was convinced that I was one of his own species, rejoiced exceedingly at my arrival, his colour returned, and, desiring me to approach him, he said: "O my brother, my story is wonderful: my father is a jeweller; he had slaves who made voyages by his orders, for the purposes of commerce, and he had dealings with kings; but he had never been blest with a son; and he dreamt that he was soon to have a son, but one whose life would be short; and he awoke sorrowful. Shortly after, in accordance with the decrees of God, my mother gave birth to me; and my father was greatly rejoiced: the astrologers, however, came to him, and said: Thy son will live fifteen years: his fate is intimated by the fact that there is in the sea a mountain called the Mountain of Loadstone, whereon is a horseman on a horse of brass, on the former of which is a tablet of lead suspended to his neck; and when the horseman shall be thrown down from his horse, thy son will be slain: the person who is to slay him is he who will throw down the horseman, and his name is King Agib, the son of King Khasib. My father was greatly afflicted at this announcement; and when he had reared me until I had nearly attained the age of fifteen years, the astrologers came again, and informed him that the horseman had fallen into the sea, and that it had been thrown down by King Agib, the son of King Khasib; on hearing which, he prepared for me this dwelling, and here left me to remain until the completion of the term, of which there now remain ten days. All this he did from fear lest King Agib should kill me."

When I heard this, I was filled with wonder, and said within myself: "I am King Agib, the son of King Khasib, and it was I who threw down the horseman; but, by Allah, I will neither kill him nor do him any injury." Then said I to the youth: "Far from thee be both destruction and harm, if it be the will of God: thou hast nothing to fear: I will remain with thee to serve thee, and will go forth with thee to thy father, and beg of him to send me back to my country, for the which he will obtain a reward." The youth rejoiced at my words, and I sat and conversed with him until night, when I spread his bed for him, and covered him, and slept near to his side. And in the morning I brought him water, and he washed his face, and said to me: "May God requite thee for me with every blessing. If I escape from King Agib, I will make my father reward thee with abundant favours." "Never," I replied, "may the day arrive that would bring thee misfortune!" I then placed before him some refreshments, and after we had eaten together, we passed the day conversing with the utmost cheerfulness.

I continued to serve him for nine days; and on the tenth day the youth rejoiced at finding himself in safety, and said to me: "O my brother, I wish that thou wouldst in thy kindness warm for me some water, that I may wash myself and change my clothes; for I have smelt the odour of escape from death, in consequence of thy assistance." "With pleasure," I replied; and I arose, and warmed the water; after which, he entered a place concealed from my view, and, having washed himself and changed his clothes, laid himself upon the mattress to rest after his bath. He then said to me: "Cut up for me, O my brother, a water-melon, and mix its juice with some sugar:" so I arose, and, taking a melon, brought it upon a plate, and said to him; "Knowest thou, O my master, where is the knife?" "See, here it is," he answered, "upon the shelf over my head." I sprang up hastily, and took it from its sheath, and as I was drawing back, my foot slipped, as God had decreed, and I fell upon the youth, grasping in my hand the knife, which entered his body, and he died instantly. When I perceived that he was dead, and that I had killed him, I uttered a loud shriek, and beat my face, and rent my clothes: saying: "This is, indeed, a calamity! O my Lord, I implore thy pardon, and declare to Thee my innocence of his death! Would that I had died before him!"

With these reflections I ascended the steps, and, having replaced the trap-door, returned to my first station, and looked over the sea, where I saw the vessel that had come before, approaching, and cleaving the waves in its rapid course. Upon this I said within myself: "Now will the men come forth from the vessel, and find the youth slain, and they will slay me also:" so I climbed into a tree, and concealed myself among its leaves, and sat there till the vessel arrived and cast anchor, when the slaves landed with the old sheikh, the father of the youth, and went to the place, and removed the earth. They were surprised at finding it moist, and, when they had descended the steps, they discovered the youth lying on his back, exhibiting a face beaming with beauty, though dead, and clad in white and clean clothing, with the knife remaining in his body. They all wept at the sight, and the father fell down in a swoon, which lasted so long that the slaves thought he was dead. At length, however, he recovered, and came out with the slaves, who had wrapped the body of the youth in his clothes. They then took back all that was in the subterranean dwelling to the vessel, and departed.

I remained, by day hiding myself in a tree, and at night walking about the open part of the island. Thus I continued for the space of two months; and I perceived that, on the western side of the island, the water of the sea every day retired, until, after three months, the land that had been beneath it became dry. Rejoicing at this, and feeling confident now in my escape, I traversed this dry tract, and arrived at an expanse of sand; whereupon I emboldened myself, and crossed it. I then saw in the distance an appearance of fire, and, advancing toward it, found it to be a palace, overlaid with plates of red copper, which, reflecting the rays of the sun, seemed from a distance to be fire: and when I drew near to it, reflecting upon this sight, there approached me an old sheikh, accompanied by ten young men who were all blind of one eye, at which I was extremely surprised. As soon as they saw me, they saluted me, and asked me my story, which I related to them from first to last; and they were filled with wonder. They then conducted me into the palace, where I saw ten benches, upon each of which was a mattress covered with a blue stuff; and each of the young men seated himself upon one of these benches, while the sheikh took his place upon a smaller one; after which they said to me: "Sit down, O young man, and ask no question respecting our condition, nor respecting our being blind of one eye." Then the sheikh arose, and brought to each of them some food, and the same to me also; and next he brought to each of us some wine: and after we had eaten, we sat drinking together until the time for sleep, when the young men said to the sheikh: "Bring to us our accustomed supply"—upon which the sheikh arose, and entered a closet, from which he brought, upon his head, ten covered trays. Placing these upon the floor, he lighted ten candles, and stuck one of them upon each tray; and, having done this, he removed the covers, and there appeared beneath them ashes mixed with pounded charcoal. The young men then tucked up their sleeves above the elbow, and blackened their faces, and slapped their cheeks, exclaiming: "We were reposing at our ease, and our impertinent curiosity suffered us not to remain so!" Thus they did until the morning, when the sheikh brought them some hot water, and they washed their faces, and put on other clothes.

On witnessing this conduct, my reason was confounded, my heart was so troubled that I forgot my own misfortunes, and I asked them the cause of their strange behaviour; upon which they looked toward me, and said: "O young man, ask not respecting that which doth not concern thee; but be silent; for in silence is security from error." I remained with them a whole month, during which, every night they did the same, and at length I said to them: "I conjure you by Allah to remove this disquiet from my mind, and to inform me of the cause of your acting in this manner, and of your exclaiming; 'We were reposing at our ease, and our impertinent curiosity suffered us not to remain so!' if ye inform me not, I will leave you, and go my way." On hearing these words, they replied: "We have not concealed this affair from thee but in our concern for thy welfare, lest thou shouldst become like us, and the same affliction that hath befallen us happen also to thee." I said, however: "Ye must positively inform me of this matter." "We give thee good advice," said they, "and do thou receive it, and ask us not respecting our case; otherwise thou wilt become blind of one eye, like us"—but I still persisted in my request; whereupon they said: "O young man, if this befall thee, know that thou wilt be banished from our company." They then all arose, and, taking a ram, slaughtered and skinned it, and said to me: "Take this knife with thee, and introduce thyself into the skin of the ram, and we will sew thee up in it, and go away; whereupon a bird called the roc will come to thee, and, taking thee up by its talons, will fly away with thee, and set thee down upon a mountain: then cut open the skin with this knife, and get out, and the bird will fly away. Thou must arise, as soon as it hath gone, and journey for half a day, and thou wilt see before thee a lofty palace, encased with red gold, set with various precious stones such as emeralds and rubies; and if thou enter it thy case will be as ours; for our entrance into that palace was the cause of our being blind of one eye; and if one of us would relate to thee all that hath befallen him, his story would be too long for thee to hear."

They then sewed me up in the skin, and entered their palace; and soon after, there came an enormous white bird, which seized me, and flew away with me, and set me down upon the mountain; whereupon I cut open the skin, and got out; and the bird, as soon as it saw me, flew away. I rose up quickly, and proceeded toward the palace, which I found to be as they had described it to me; and when I had entered it, I beheld, at the upper end of a saloon, forty young damsels, beautiful as so many moons, and magnificently attired, who, as soon as they saw me, exclaimed: "Welcome! Welcome! O our master and our lord! We have been for a month expecting thee. Praise be to God who hath blessed us with one who is worthy of us, and one of whom we are worthy!" After having thus greeted me, they seated me upon a mattress, and said; "Thou art from this day our master and prince, and we are thy handmaids, and entirely under thy authority." They then brought to me some refreshments, and, when I had eaten and drunk, they sat and conversed with me, full of joy and happiness. So lovely were these ladies, that even a devotee, if he saw them, would gladly consent to be their servant, and to comply with all that they would desire. At the approach of night they all assembled around me, and placed before me a table of fresh and dried fruits, with other delicacies that the tongue cannot describe, and wine; and one began to sing, while another played upon the lute. The wine-cups circulated among us, and joy overcame me to such a degree as to obliterate from my mind every earthly care, and make me exclaim: "This is indeed a delightful life!" I passed a night of such enjoyment as I had never before experienced; and on the morrow I entered the bath; and, after I had washed myself, they brought me a suit of the richest clothing, and we again sat down to a repast.

In this manner I lived with them a whole year; but on the first day of the new year, they seated themselves around me, and began to weep, and bade me farewell, clinging to my skirts. "What calamity hath befallen you?" said I. "Ye are breaking my heart." They answered: "Would that we had never known thee; for we have associated with many men, but have seen none like thee. May God, therefore, not deprive us of thy company." And they wept afresh. I said to them: "I wish that you would acquaint me with the cause of this weeping." "Thou," they replied, "art the cause; yet now, if thou wilt attend to what we tell thee, we shall never be parted; but if thou act contrary to it, we are separated from this time; and our hearts whisper to us that thou wilt not regard our warning." "Inform me," said I, "and I will attend to your directions." And they replied: "If then thou wouldst inquire respecting our history, know that we are the daughters of kings: for many years it hath been our custom to assemble here, and every year we absent ourselves during a period of forty days; then returning, we indulge ourselves for a year in feasting and drinking. This is our usual practice; and now we fear that thou wilt disregard our directions when we are absent from thee. We deliver to thee the keys of the palace, which are a hundred in number, belonging to a hundred closets. Open each of these, and amuse thyself, and eat and drink, and refresh thyself, excepting the closet that hath a door of red gold; for if thou open this, the consequence will be a separation between us and thee. We conjure thee, therefore, to observe our direction, and to be patient during this period." Upon hearing this, I swore to them that I would never open the closet to which they alluded; and they departed, urging me to be faithful to my promise.

I remained alone in the palace, and at the approach of evening I opened the first closet, and, entering it, found a mansion like paradise, with a garden containing green trees loaded with ripe fruits, abounding with singing birds, and watered by copious streams. My heart was soothed by the sight, and I wandered among the trees, scenting the fragrance of the flowers, and listening to the warbling of the birds as they sang the praises of the One, the Almighty. After admiring the mingled colours of the apple resembling the hue upon the cheek of the beloved maid and the sallow countenance of the perplexed and timid lover, the sweet-smelling quince diffusing an odour like musk and ambergris, and the plum shining as the ruby, I retired from this place, and, having locked the door, opened that of the next closet, within which I beheld a spacious tract planted with numerous palm-trees, and watered by a river flowing among rose-trees, and jasmine, and marjoram, and eglantine, and narcissus, and gilliflower, the odours of which, diffused in every direction by the wind, inspired me with the utmost delight. I locked again the door of the second closet, and opened that of the third. Within this I found a large saloon, paved with marbles of various colours, and with costly minerals and precious gems, and containing cages constructed of sandal and aloes-wood with singing birds within them, and others upon the branches of trees which were planted there. My heart was charmed, my trouble was dissipated, and I slept there until the morning. I then opened the door of the fourth closet, and within this door I found a great building in which were forty closets with open doors; and entering these, I beheld pearls, and rubies, and chrysolites, and emeralds, and other precious jewels such as the tongue cannot describe. I was astonished at the sight, and said: "Such things as these, I imagine, are not found in the treasury of any king. I am now the King of my age, and all these treasures, through the goodness of God, are mine."

At the approach of evening I opened the first closet and, entering it, found a mansion like paradise.

Thus I continued to amuse myself, passing from one place to another, until thirty-nine days had elapsed, and I had opened the doors of all the closets excepting that which they had forbidden me to open. My heart was then disturbed by curiosity respecting this hundredth closet, and the Devil, in order to plunge me into misery, induced me to open it. I had not patience to abstain, though there remained of the appointed period only one day: so I approached the closet, and opened the door; and when I had entered, I perceived a fragrant odour, such as I had never before smelt, which intoxicated me so that I fell down insensible, and remained some time in this state: but at length recovering, I fortified my heart, and proceeded. I found the floor overspread with saffron, and the place illuminated by golden lamps and by candles, which diffused the odours of musk and ambergris. I saw also a black horse, of the hue of the darkest night, before which was a manger of white crystal filled with cleansed sesame, and another, similar to it, containing rose-water infused with musk: he was saddled and bridled, and his saddle was of red gold. Wondering at the sight of him, I said within myself: "This must be an animal of extraordinary qualities;" and, seduced by the Devil, I led him out, and mounted him; but he moved not from his place. I kicked him with my heel; but still he moved not: so I took a switch and struck him with it; and as soon as he felt the blow he uttered a sound like thunder, and, expanding a pair of wings, soared with me to an immense height through the air, and then alighted upon the roof of another palace, where he threw me from his back, and, by a violent blow with his tail upon my face, struck out my eye, and left me.

Thus it was I became blind of one eye. I then recollected the predictions of the ten young men. The horse again took wing, and soon disappeared. I got up much vexed at the misfortune I had brought upon myself. I walked upon the terrace, covering my eye with one of my hands, for it pained me exceedingly, and then descended, and entered into a hall. I soon discovered by the ten benches in a circle, and the eleventh in the middle, smaller than the rest, that I was in the castle whence I had been carried by the roc.

The ten young men were not in the hall when I entered; but came in soon after, attended by the sheikh. They seemed not at all surprised to see me, nor at the loss of my eye; but said: "We are sorry that we cannot congratulate you on your return, as we could wish; but we are not the cause of your misfortune." "I should do you wrong," I replied, "to lay it to your charge; I have only myself to accuse." "If," said they, "it be a subject of consolation to the afflicted to know that others share their sufferings, you have in us this alleviation of your misfortune. All that has happened to you we have also endured; we each of us tasted the same pleasures during a year; and we had still continued to enjoy them, had we not opened the golden door, when the princesses were absent. You have been no wiser than we, and have incurred the same punishment. We would gladly receive you into our company, to join with us in the penance to which we are bound, and the duration of which we know not. But we have already stated to you the reasons that render this impossible: depart, therefore, and proceed to the court of Bagdad, where you will meet with the person who is to decide your destiny." After they had explained to me the road I was to travel, I departed from them, with mournful heart and weeping eye, and, God having decreed me a safe journey hither, I arrived at Bagdad, after I had shaved my beard, and become a mendicant. Praise be to God, whose name be exalted, and whose purposes concerning me are as yet hid in darkness.

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THE STORY OF THE CITY OF BRASS

There was, in olden time, in Damascus of Syria, a king, named Abd-El-Melik the son of Marwan; and he was sitting, one day, having with him the great men of his empire, consisting of kings and sultans, when a discussion took place among them, respecting the traditions of former nations. They called to mind the stories of Solomon, son of David, and the dominion which God had bestowed upon him over mankind, and the genies, and the birds, and the wild beasts, and they said: "We have heard from those who were before us, that God bestowed not upon any one the power which He bestowed upon Solomon, so that he used to imprison the genies and the devils in bottles of brass, and pour molten lead over them, and seal a cover over them with his signet."

Then Talib, one of the sultans, related, that a man once embarked in a ship with a company of others, and they voyaged to the island of Sicily and ceased not in their course until there arose against them a wind which bore them away to an unknown land. This happened during the black darkness of night, and when the day shone forth, there came out to them, from caves in that land, people of black complexion and with naked bodies, like wild beasts, not understanding speech. They had a king of their own race, and none of them knew Arabic save their king. So when they saw the ship and those who were in her, he came forth to them attended by a party of his companions, and saluted them and welcomed them: They acquainted him with their state; and he said to them, "No harm shall befall you; there hath not come to us any one of the sons of Adam before you." And he entertained them with a banquet of the flesh of birds and of wild beasts and of fish. And after this, the people of the ship went down to divert themselves in the city, and they found one of the fishermen who had cast his net in the sea to catch fish, and he drew it up, and, lo, in it was a bottle of brass stopped with lead, which was sealed with the signet of Solomon the son of David. And the fisherman came forth and broke it; whereupon there proceeded from it a blue smoke, which united with the clouds of heaven; and they heard a horrible voice, saying: "Repentance! repentance! O Prophet of God!" Then, of that smoke there was formed a person of terrible aspect, of terrific make, whose head would reach as high as a mountain; and he disappeared from before their eyes. As to the people of the ship, their hearts were almost eradicated; but the blacks thought nothing of the event. And a man returned to the king, and asked him respecting this; and the king answered him: "Know that this is one of the genies whom Solomon, the son of David, when he was incensed against them, imprisoned in these bottles, and he poured lead over them, and threw them into the sea. When the fisherman casteth his net, it generally bringeth up these bottles; and when they are broken, there cometh forth from them a genie, who imagineth that Solomon is still living; wherefore he repenteth, and saith: 'Repentance! O Prophet of God!'"

And the Prince of the Faithful, Abd-El-Melik, wondered at these words, and said: "By Allah, I desire to see some of these bottles!" So Talib replied: "O Prince of the Faithful, thou art able to do so, and yet remain in thy country. Send to thy brother Abd-El-Azeez, that he may write orders to the Emeer Moosa to journey from the Western Country to this mountain which we have mentioned, and to bring thee what thou desirest of these bottles; for the furthest tract of his province is adjacent to this mountain." And the Prince of the Faithful approved of his advice, and said: "O Talib, thou hast spoken truth and I desire that thou be my messenger to Moosa for this purpose." To this, Talib replied: "Most willingly, O Prince of the Faithful." And the king said to him: "Go in dependence on the blessing of God, and his aid." Then he gave orders that they should write for him a letter to his brother Abd-El-Azeez, his viceroy in Egypt, and another letter to Moosa, his viceroy in the Western Country, commanding him to journey, himself, in search of the bottles of Solomon. He sealed the two letters, and delivered them to Talib, commanding him to hasten, and he gave him riches and riders and footmen to aid him in his way.

So Talib went forth on his way to Egypt, and when the Emeer Moosa knew of his approach, he went forth to him and met him, and rejoiced at his arrival; and Talib handed to him the letter. So he took it and read it, and understood its meaning; and he put it upon his head, saying: "I hear and obey the command of the Prince of the Faithful." He determined to summon his great men; and they presented themselves; and he inquired of them respecting that which had been made known to him by the letter; whereupon they said: "O Emeer, if thou desire him who will guide thee to that place, have recourse to the Sheikh Abd-Es-Samad; for he is a knowing man, and hath travelled much, and he is acquainted with the deserts and wastes and the seas, and their inhabitants and their wonders, and the countries and their districts. Have recourse therefore to him, and he will direct thee to the object of thy desire." Accordingly he gave orders to bring him, and he came before him; and, lo, he was a very old man, whom the vicissitudes of years and times had rendered decrepit. The Emeer Moosa saluted him, and said to him: "O Sheikh Abd-Es-Samad, our lord, the Prince of the Faithful, hath commanded us thus and thus, and I possess little knowledge of that land, and it hath been told me that thou art acquainted with that country and the routes. Hast thou then a wish to accomplish the affair of the Prince of the Faithful?" The sheikh replied: "Know, O Emeer, that this route is difficult, far extending, with few tracks." The emeer said to him: "How long a period doth it require?" He answered: "It is a journey of two years and some months going, and the like returning; and on the way are difficulties and horrors, and extraordinary and wonderful things. But," he said, "God will assuredly make this affair easy to us through the blessing attendant upon thee, O Viceroy of the Prince of the Faithful."

After this they departed, and they continued their journey until they arrived at a palace; whereupon the sheikh said: "Advance with us to this palace, which presenteth a lesson to him who will be admonished." So the Emeer Moosa advanced thither, together with the Sheikh Abd-Es-Samad and his chief companions, till they came to its entrance. And they found it open, and having lofty angles, and steps, among which were two wide steps of coloured marbles, the like of which hath not been seen: the ceilings and walls were decorated with gold and silver and minerals, and over the entrance was a slab, whereon was an inscription in ancient Greek; and the Sheikh Abd-Es-Samad said: "Shall I read it, O Emeer?" The emeer answered; "Advance and read." So he read it; and, lo, it was poetry; and it was this:

And the Emeer Moosa wept and said: "There is no deity but God, the Living, the Enduring without failure!"

Then they attentively viewed the palace; and, lo, it was devoid of inhabitants, destitute of household and occupants: its courts were desolate, and its apartments were deserted; and in the midst of it was a chamber covered with a lofty dome, rising high into the air, around which were four hundred tombs.

And the Emeer Moosa drew near to the dome-crowned chamber, and, lo, it had eight doors of sandalwood, with nails of gold, ornamented with stars of silver set with various jewels, and he beheld in it a long tomb, of terrible appearance, whereon was a tablet of iron of China; and the Sheikh Abd-Es-Samad drew near to it, and read its inscription; and, lo, on it was written:

And again the Emeer Moosa wept, in considering the fates of the people; after which, as they were going about through the different apartments of the palace, and viewing attentively its chambers and its places of diversion, they came to a table upon four legs of alabaster, whereon was inscribed:

And the Emeer Moosa wrote down all this. Then he went forth, and took not with him from the palace aught save the table.

The soldiers proceeded, with the Sheikh Abd-Es-Samad before them shewing them the way, until all the first day had passed, and the second, and the third. They then came to a high hill, at which they looked, and, lo, upon it was a horseman of brass, on the top of whose spear was a wide and glistening head that almost deprived the beholder of sight, and on it was inscribed:

And when the Emeer Moosa had rubbed the hand of the horseman, it turned like the blinding lightning, and faced a different direction from that in which they were travelling.

The party therefore turned thither and journeyed on, and it was the right way. They took that route, and continued their course the same day and the next night until they had traversed a wide tract of country. And as they were proceeding, one day, they came to a pillar of black stone, wherein was a person sunk to his arm-pits, and he had two huge wings, and four arms; two of them like those of the sons of Adam, and two like the fore-legs of lions, with claws. He had hair upon his head like the tails of horses, and two eyes like two burning coals, and he had a third eye, in his forehead, like the eye of the lynx, from which there appeared sparks of fire. He was black and tall; and he was crying out: "Extolled be the perfection of my Lord, who hath appointed me this severe affliction and painful torture until the day of resurrection!" When the party beheld him, their reason fled from them, and they were stupefied at the sight of his form, and retreated in flight; and the Emeer Moosa said to the Sheikh Abd-Es-Samad: "What is this?" He answered: "I know not what he is." And the emeer said: "Draw near to him, and investigate his case: perhaps he will discover it, and perhaps thou wilt learn his history." So the Sheikh Abd-Es-Samad drew near to him, and said to him: "O thou person, what is thy name, and what is thy nature, and what hath placed thee here in this manner?" And the person answered him: "As to me, I am an efreet of the genies, and my name is Dahish, and I am restrained here by the majesty of God." Then the Emeer Moosa said: "O Sheikh Abd-Es-Samad, ask him what is the cause of his confinement in this pillar." He therefore asked respecting that, and the efreet answered him: "Verily my story is wonderful; and it is this:

"There belonged to one of the sons of Iblees an idol of red carnelian, of which I was made guardian; and there used to worship it one of the Kings of the Sea, of great glory, leading, among his troops of the genies, a million warriors who smote with swords before him, and who answered his prayer in cases of difficulty. These genies who obeyed him were under my command and authority, following my words when I ordered them: all of them were in rebellion against Solomon, the son of David; and I used to enter the body of the idol, and command them and forbid them. Now the daughter of that king was a frequent adorer of the idol, assiduous in the worship of it, and she was the handsomest of the people of her age, endowed with beauty and loveliness, and elegance and perfection; and I described her to Solomon, on whom be peace! So he sent to her father, saying to him: 'Marry to me thy daughter, and break thy carnelian-idol, and bear witness that there is no deity but God, and that Solomon is the Prophet of God. But if thou refuse, I will come to thee with forces that shall leave thee like yesterday that hath passed.' And when the messenger of Solomon came to him, the King of the Sea was insolent, and magnified himself and was proud. Then he said to his viziers: 'What say ye respecting the affair of Solomon? For he hath sent demanding my daughter, and commanding me to break my carnelian-idol, and to adopt his faith.' And they replied: 'O great King, can Solomon do aught unto thee, when thou art in the midst of this vast sea? He cannot prevail against thee; since the genies will fight on thy side; and thou shalt seek aid against him of thine idol that thou worshippest. The right opinion is, that thou consult thy red carnelian-idol, and hear what will be his reply: if he counsel thee to fight him, fight him; but otherwise, do not.' And upon this the king went immediately, and, going in to his idol, after he had offered a sacrifice and slain victims, fell down before it prostrate, and began to weep, and to seek counsel.

"Thereupon I entered the body of the idol, by reason of my ignorance, and my solicitude respecting the affair of Solomon, and recited this couplet:

So when the king heard my reply to him, his heart was strengthened, and he determined to wage war with Solomon the Prophet of God and to fight against him. Accordingly, when the messenger of Solomon came, he inflicted upon him a painful beating, and returned him a shameful reply; and he sent to threaten Solomon, saying to him, by the messenger: 'Dost thou threaten me with false words? Either come thou to me, or I will go to thee.'

"Then the messenger returned to Solomon, and acquainted him with all that had occurred. And when the Prophet of God heard that, his resolution was roused, and he prepared his forces, consisting of genies and men, and wild beasts, and birds and reptiles. He commanded his vizier, Ed-Dimiryat, the king of the genies, to collect them from every place: so he collected for him, of the devils, six hundred millions. He also commanded Asaf, his vizier of men, to collect his soldiers of mankind; and their number was one million, or more. He made ready the accoutrements and weapons, and mounted, with his forces, upon the magic carpet, with the birds flying over his head, and the wild beasts beneath the carpet marching, until he alighted upon his enemy's coast, and surrounded his island, having filled the land with the forces. He then sent to our king, saying to him: 'Behold, I have arrived: therefore submit thyself to my authority, and acknowledge my mission, and break thine idol, and worship the One, the Adored God, and marry to me thy daughter according to law, and say thou, and those who are with thee, I testify that there is no deity but God, and I testify that Solomon is the Prophet of God. If thou say that, peace and safety shall be thy lot. But if thou refuse, thy defending thyself from me in this island shall not prevent thee: for God hath commanded the wind to obey me, and I will order it to convey me unto thee on the carpet, and will make thee an example to restrain others.' So the messenger came to him, and communicated to him the message of the Prophet! But the king said to him: 'There is no way for the accomplishment of this thing that he requireth: therefore inform him that I am coming forth unto him.' Accordingly the messenger returned to Solomon, and gave him the reply. The king then sent to the people of his country, and collected for himself, of the genies that were under his authority, a million; and to these he added others, of the devils that were in the islands and on the mountains; after which he made ready his forces, and opened the armouries, and distributed to them the weapons. And as to the Prophet of God, he disposed his troops, commanding the wild beasts to form themselves into two divisions, on the right of the people and on their left, and commanding the birds to be upon the islands. He ordered them also when the assault should be made, to tear out the eyes of their antagonists with their beaks, and to beat their faces with their wings; and he ordered the wild beasts to tear in pieces their horses; and they replied: 'We hear and obey God and thee, O Prophet of God!' Then Solomon set for himself a couch of alabaster adorned with jewels, and plated with plates of red gold, and he placed his vizier Asaf on the right side, and his vizier, Ed-Dimiryat, on the left side, and the kings of mankind on his right, and the kings of the genies on his left, and the wild beasts and the vipers and serpents before him.

"After this, they came upon us all together, and we contended with him in a wide tract for a period of two days; and calamity befell us on the third day, and the decree of God was executed among us. The first who charged upon Solomon were I and my troops; and I said to my companions: 'Keep in your places in the battle-field while I go forth to them and challenge Ed-Dimiryat.' And, lo, he came forth, like a great mountain, his fires flaming, and his smoke ascending; and he approached, and smote me with a flaming fire; and his arrow prevailed over my fire. He cried out at me with a prodigious cry, so that I imagined the heaven had fallen, and the mountains shook at his voice. Then he commanded his companions, and they charged upon us all together: we also charged upon them: the fires rose and the smoke ascended, the hearts of the combatants were almost cleft asunder, and the battle raged. The birds fought in the air; and the wild beasts in the dust; and I contended with Ed-Dimiryat until he wearied me and I wearied him; after which my companions and troops were enervated, and my tribes were routed. I flew from before Ed-Dimiryat; but he followed me a journey of three months, until he overtook me. I had fallen down through fatigue, and he rushed upon me, and made me a prisoner. So I said to him: 'By Him who hath exalted thee and abased me, pity me, and take me before Solomon.' But when I came before Solomon, he met me in a most evil manner: he caused this pillar to be brought, and hollowed it, and put me in it, and sealed me with his signet; after which, he chained me, and Ed-Dimiryat conveyed me to this place, where he set me down as thou seest me; and this pillar is my prison until the day of resurrection."

The party therefore wondered at him, and at the horrible nature of his form; and the Emeer Moosa said: "There is no deity but God!" And the Sheikh Abd-Es-Samad said to the efreet: "O thou, I ask thee concerning a thing of which do thou inform us." The efreet replied: "Ask concerning what thou wilt." And the sheikh said: "Are there in this place any of the efreets confined in bottles of brass from the time of Solomon?" He answered: "Yes, in the Sea of El-Karkar, where are a people of the descendants of Noah, whose country the deluge reached not, and they are separated there from the rest of the sons of Adam." "And where," said the sheikh, "is the way to the City of Brass, and the place wherein are the bottles? What distance is there between us and it?" The efreet answered: "It is near." So the party left him, and proceeded; and there appeared to them in the distance a great black object, with two fires corresponding with each other in position; whereupon the Emeer Moosa said to the sheikh: "What is this great black object, and these two corresponding fires?" The guide answered him: "Be rejoiced, O Emeer; for this is the City of Brass, and this is the appearance of it that I find described in the Book of Hidden Treasures; that its wall is of black stones, and it hath two towers of brass, which the beholder seeth resembling two corresponding fires; and thence it is named the City of Brass." They ceased not to proceed until they arrived at it; and, lo, it was lofty, strongly fortified, rising high into the air, impenetrable: the height of its walls was eighty cubits, and it had five and twenty gates, none of which would open but by means of some artifice. They stopped before it, and endeavoured to discover one of its gates; but they could not; and the Emeer Moosa said to the Sheikh Abd-Es-Samad: "O sheikh, I see not to this city any gate." The sheikh replied: "O Emeer, thus do I find it described in the Book of Hidden Treasures; that it hath five and twenty gates, and that none of its gates may be opened but from within the city." "And how," said the emeer, "can we contrive to enter it, and divert ourselves with a view of its wonders?"

Then the Emeer Moosa ordered one of his young men to mount a camel, and ride round the city, in the hope that he might discover a trace of a gate. So one of his young men mounted, and proceeded around it for two days with their nights, prosecuting his journey with diligence, and not resting; and when the third day arrived, he came in sight of his companions, and he was astounded at that which he beheld of the extent of the city, and its height. Then he said: "O Emeer, the easiest place in it is this place at which ye have alighted." And thereupon the Emeer Moosa took Talib and the Sheikh Abd-Es-Samad, and they ascended a mountain opposite the city, and overlooking it; and when they had ascended that mountain, they saw a city than which eyes had not beheld any greater. Its pavilions were lofty, and its domes were shining; its rivers were running, its trees were fruitful, and its gardens bore ripe produce. It was a city with impenetrable gates, empty, still, without a voice but the owl hooting in its quarters, and the raven croaking in its thoroughfare-streets, and bewailing those who had been in it.

And when they had ascended that mountain they saw a city than which eyes had not beheld any greater.

And the Emeer Moosa fainted with sorrow; his tears ran down upon his cheeks, and he said: "By Allah, indifference to the world is the most appropriate and the most sure course!"

And when they came back to the troops, they passed the day devising means of entering the city; and the Emeer Moosa said to those of his chief officers who were around him: "How shall we contrive to enter the city, that we may see its wonders? Perhaps we shall find in it something by which we may ingratiate ourselves with the Prince of the Faithful." Talib replied: "Let us make a ladder, and mount upon it, and perhaps we shall gain access to the gate from within." And the emeer said: "This is what occurred to my mind, and excellent is the advice." Then he called to the carpenters and blacksmiths, and ordered them to make straight some pieces of wood, and to construct a ladder covered with plates of iron. And they did so, and made it strong. They employed themselves in constructing it a whole month, and many men were occupied in making it. And they set it up and fixed it against the wall, and it proved to be equal to the wall in height, as though it had been made for it before that day. So the Emeer Moosa wondered at it, and said: "God bless you! It seemeth, from the excellence of your work, as though ye had adapted it by measurement to the wall." He then said to the people: "Which of you will ascend this ladder, and mount upon the wall, and walk along it, and contrive means of descending into the city, that he may see how the case is, and then inform us of the mode of opening the gate?" And one of them answered: "I will ascend it, O Emeer, and descend and open the gate." The emeer therefore replied: "Mount. God bless thee!" Accordingly, the man ascended the ladder until he reached the top of it; when he stood, and fixed his eyes toward the city, clapped his hands, and cried out with his loudest voice, saying: "Thou art beautiful!" Then he cast himself down into the city, and was destroyed. So the Emeer Moosa said: "If we do thus with all our companions, there will not remain of them one; and we shall be unable to accomplish our affair, and the affair of the Prince of the Faithful. Depart ye; for we have no concern with this city." But one of them said: "Perhaps another than this may be more steady than he." And a second ascended, and a third, and a fourth, and a fifth; and they ceased not to ascend by that ladder to the top of the wall, one after another, until twelve men of them had gone, acting as acted the first. Therefore the Sheikh Abd-Es-Samad said: "There is none for this affair but myself, and the experienced is not like the inexperienced." But the Emeer Moosa said to him: "Thou shalt not do that, nor will I allow thee to ascend to the top of this wall; for shouldst thou die, thou wouldst be the cause of the death of us all, and there would not remain of us one; since thou art the guide of the party." The sheikh, however, replied: "Perhaps the object will be accomplished by my means, through the will of God, whose name be exalted!" And thereupon all the people agreed to his ascending.

Then Abd-Es-Samad arose, and, having said: "In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful!"—he ascended the ladder, repeating the praises of God, and reciting the Verses of Safety, until he reached the top of the wall; when he clapped his hands, and fixed his eyes. The people therefore all called out to him, and said: "O Sheikh Abd-Es-Samad, do not cast thyself down! If Abd-Es-Samad fall, we all perish!" Then Abd-Es-Samad sat a long time repeating the praises of God, and reciting the Verses of Safety; after which he rose with energy, and called out with his loudest voice: "O Emeer, no harm shall befall you; for God hath averted from me the effect of the artifice of the Devil." So the emeer said to him: "What hast thou seen, O Sheikh?" He answered: "When I reached the top of the wall I beheld ten damsels, like moons, who made a sign with their hands, as though they would say: 'Come to us!' And it seemed to me that beneath me was a sea of water; whereupon I desired to cast myself down, as our companions did: but I beheld them dead; so I withheld myself from them, and recited some words of the book of God, whereupon He averted from me the influence of those damsels, and they departed; therefore I cast not myself down. There is no doubt that this is an enchantment which the people of this city contrived in order to repel from it every one who should wish to obtain access to it."

He then walked along the wall till he came to the two towers of brass, when he saw that they had gates of gold, without any sign of the means of opening them. Therefore the sheikh, looking attentively, saw in the middle of one of the gates a figure of a horseman of brass, having one hand extended, as though he were pointing with it, and on it was an inscription, which the sheikh read, and, lo, it contained these words:

So he turned the pin twelve times; whereupon the gate opened immediately, with a noise like thunder; and the sheikh entered. He was a learned man, acquainted with all languages and characters. And he walked on until he entered a long passage, whence he descended some steps, and he found a place with handsome wooden benches, on which were people dead, and over their heads were elegant shields, and keen swords, and strung bows, and notched arrows. And behind the next gate were a bar of iron, and barricades of wood, and locks of delicate fabric, and strong apparatus. Upon this, the sheikh said within himself: "Perhaps the keys are with these people." Then he looked, and, lo, there was a sheikh who appeared to be the oldest of them, and he was upon a high wooden bench among the dead men. So Abd-Es-Samad said: "May not the keys of the city be with this sheikh! Perhaps he was the gate-keeper of the city, and these were under his authority." He therefore drew near to him, and lifted up his garments, and, lo, the keys were hung to his waist. At the sight of them, Abd-Es-Samad rejoiced exceedingly; and he took the keys, opened the locks, and pulled the gate and the barricades and other apparatus, which opened and the gate also opened, with a noise like thunder. Upon this the sheikh exclaimed: "God is most great!" and the people made the same exclamation with him, rejoicing at the event. The Emeer Moosa also rejoiced at the safety of Abd-Es-Samad, and at the opening of the gate of the city; the people thanked him for that which he had done, and all the troops hastened to enter the gate. But the Emeer Moosa cried out to them, saying to them: "O people, if all of us enter, we shall not be secure from accident. Half shall enter, and half shall remain behind."

The Emeer Moosa then entered the gate, and with him half of the people, who bore their weapons of war. And the party saw their companions lying dead: so they buried them. They saw also the gate-keepers and servants and chamberlains and lieutenants lying upon beds of silk, all of them dead. And they entered the market of the city, and beheld that the shops were open, and the scales hung up, and the utensils of brass ranged in order, and the stores were full of all kinds of goods. And they saw the merchants dead in their shops: their skins were dried, and they had become examples to him who would be admonished. And they left this place, and passed on to the silk-market, in which were silks and brocades interwoven with red gold and white silver upon various colours, and the owners were dead, lying upon skins, and appearing almost as though they would speak. Leaving these, they went on to the market of jewels and pearls and jacinths; and they left it, and passed on to the market of the money-changers, whom they found dead, with varieties of silks beneath them, and their shops were filled with gold and silver. These they left, and they proceeded to the markets of the perfumers; and, lo, their shops were filled with varieties of perfumes, and bags of musk, and ambergris, and aloes-wood, and camphor; and the owners were all dead, not having with them any food. And when they went forth from the market of the perfumers, they found near unto it a palace, decorated, and strongly constructed; and they entered it, and found banners unfurled, and drawn swords, and strung bows and shields hung up by chains of gold and silver, and helmets gilded with red gold. And in the passages of that palace were benches of ivory, ornamented with plates of brilliant gold, and with silk, on which were men whose skins had dried upon the bones; the ignorant would imagine them to be sleeping; but, from the want of food, they had died, and tasted mortality.

And the Emeer Moosa went on into the interior of the palace. There he beheld a great hall, and four large and lofty chambers, each one fronting another, wide, decorated with gold and silver and with various colours. In the midst of the hall was a great fountain of alabaster, over which was a canopy of brocade; and in those chambers were fountains lined with marble; and channels of water flowed along the floors of those chambers, the four streams meeting in a great tank lined with marbles of various colours. The Emeer Moosa then said to the Sheikh Abd-Es-Samad: "Enter these chambers with us." So they entered the first chamber; and they found it filled with gold and with white silver, and pearls and jewels, and jacinths and precious minerals. They found in it also chests full of red and yellow and white brocades. And they went thence to the second chamber, and opened a closet in it, and, lo, it was filled with arms and weapons of war, consisting of gilded helmets, and coats of mail, and swords, and lances, and maces, and other instruments of war and battle. Then they passed thence to the third chamber, in which they found closets having upon their doors closed locks, and over them were curtains worked with various kinds of embroidery. They opened one of these closets, and found it filled with weapons decorated with varieties of gold and silver and jewels. And they went thence to the fourth chamber, where also they found closets, one of which they opened, and they found it full of utensils for food and drink, consisting of various vessels of gold and silver, and saucers of crystal, and cups set with brilliant pearls and cups of carnelian, and other things. So they began to take what suited them of those things, and each of the soldiers carried off what he could. And when they determined to go forth from those chambers, they saw there a door inlaid with ivory and ebony, and adorned with plates of brilliant gold. Over it was hung a curtain of silk worked with various kinds of embroidery, and upon it were locks of white silver, to be opened by artifice, without a key. The Sheikh Abd-Es-Samad therefore advanced to those locks, and he opened them by his knowledge and excellent skill. And the party entered a passage paved with marble, upon the sides of which were curtains whereon were figured various wild beasts and birds, all these being worked with red gold and white silver, and their eyes were of pearls and jacinths: whosoever beheld them was confounded.

They then passed on, and found a saloon constructed of polished marble adorned with jewels. The beholder imagined that upon its floor was running water, and if any one walked upon it he would slip. The Emeer Moosa therefore ordered the Sheikh Abd-Es-Samad to throw upon it something that they might be enabled to walk on it; and he did this, and contrived so that they passed on. And they found in it a great dome constructed of stones gilded with red gold. The party had not beheld, in all that they had seen, anything more beautiful than it. And in the midst of that dome was a great dome-crowned structure of alabaster, around which were lattice windows, decorated, and adorned with oblong emeralds, such as none of the kings could procure. In it was a pavilion of brocade, raised upon columns of red gold, and within this were birds, the feet of which were of emeralds; beneath each bird was a net of brilliant pearls, spread over a fountain; and by the brink of the fountain was placed a couch adorned with pearls and jewels and jacinths, whereon was a damsel resembling the shining sun. Eyes had not beheld one more beautiful. Upon her was a garment of brilliant pearls, on her head was a crown of red gold, with a fillet of jewels, on her neck was a necklace of jewels in the middle of which were refulgent gems, and upon her forehead were two jewels the light of which was like that of the sun; and she seemed as though she were looking at the people, and observing them to the right and left. When the Emeer Moosa beheld this damsel, he wondered extremely at her loveliness, and was confounded by her beauty and the redness of her cheeks and the blackness of her hair. Any beholder would imagine that she was alive, and not dead. And they said to her: "Peace be on thee, O damsel!" But Talib said to the emeer: "May God amend thy state! Know that this damsel is dead. There is no life in her. How then can she return the salutation?" And he added: "O Emeer, she is skilfully embalmed; and her eyes have been taken out after her death, and quicksilver hath been put beneath them, after which they have been restored to their places; so they gleam; and whenever the air putteth them in motion, the beholder imagineth that she twinkleth her eyes, though she is dead."

And as to the couch upon which was the damsel, it had steps, and upon the steps were two slaves, one of them white and the other black; and in the hand of one of them was a weapon of steel, and in the hand of the other a jewelled sword that blinded the eyes; and before the two slaves was a tablet of gold, whereon was read an inscription, which was this:

The Emeer Moosa, when he heard these words, again wept and was admonished by what he witnessed. He then said to his companions: "Bring the sacks, and fill them with part of these riches and these vessels and rarities and jewels." And thereupon, Talib, the son of Sahl, said to the Emeer Moosa: "O Emeer, shall we leave this damsel with the things that are upon her? They are things that have no equal, nor is the like of them at any time found, and they are more than the riches thou hast taken, and will be the best present by which thou mayest ingratiate thyself with the Prince of the Faithful." But the emeer replied: "Heardest thou not that which the damsel hath given as a charge, in the inscription upon this tablet? Moreover, and especially, she hath given it as a charge offered in confidence, and we are not of the people of treachery." The Vizier Talib, however, said: "And on account of these words wilt thou leave these riches and these jewels, when she is dead? What then should she do with these things, which are the ornaments of the world, and the decoration of the living? With a garment of cotton might this damsel be covered, and we are more worthy of the things than she." Then he drew near to the steps, and ascended them until he reached the spot between the two slaves, when, lo, one of these two smote him upon his back, and the other smote him with the sword that was in his hand, and struck off his head, and he fell down dead. So the Emeer Moosa said: "May God not regard with mercy thy resting-place! There was, in these riches, a sufficiency; and covetousness doth dishonour the person in whom it existeth!" He thereupon gave orders for the entry of the troops, who accordingly entered, and they loaded the camels with part of those riches and minerals; after which the Emeer Moosa commanded them to close the gate as it was before.

They then proceeded along the sea-coast until they came in sight of a high mountain overlooking the sea. In it were many caves, and, lo, in these was a people of the blacks, clad in hides, and with burnouses of hides upon their heads, whose language was not known. And when they saw the troops, they ran away from them, and fled, while their women and their children stood at the entrances of the caves. So the Emeer Moosa said: "O Sheikh Abd-Es-Samad, what are these people?" And he answered: "These are the objects of the inquiry of the Prince of the Faithful." They therefore alighted, and the tents were pitched, and the riches were put down; and they had not rested when the king of the blacks came down from the mountain, and drew near to the troops. He was acquainted with the Arabic language; wherefore, when he came to the Emeer Moosa, he saluted him; and the emeer returned his salutation, and treated him with honour. Then the king of the blacks said to the emeer: "Are ye of mankind, or of the genies?" The emeer answered: "As to us, we are of mankind; and as to you, there is no doubt but that ye are of the genies, because of your seclusion in this mountain that is separated from the world, and because of the greatness of your make." But the king of the blacks replied: "Nay, we are a people of the race of Adam, of the sons of Ham, the son of Noah, on whom be peace! And as to this sea, it is known by the name of El-Karkar."

The Emeer Moosa then said to him: "We are the associates of the King of El-Islam, Abd-El-Melik the son of Marwan; and we have come on account of the bottles of brass that are here in your sea, and wherein are the devils imprisoned from the time of Solomon, the son of David. He hath commanded us to bring him some of them, that he may see them, and divert himself by the view of them." And the king of the blacks replied: "Most willingly." Then he feasted him with fish, and ordered the divers to bring up from the sea some of the bottles of Solomon; and they brought up for them twelve bottles; wherewith the Emeer Moosa was delighted, and the Sheikh Abd-Es-Samad also, and the soldiers, on account of the accomplishment of the affair of the Prince of the Faithful. The Emeer Moosa thereupon presented to the king of the blacks many presents, and gave him large gifts. In like manner, too, the king of the blacks gave to the Emeer Moosa a present consisting of wonders of the sea.

Then they bade him farewell, and they journeyed back until they came to the land of Syria, and went in to the Prince of the Faithful; whereupon the Emeer Moosa acquainted him with all that he had seen, and all that had occurred to him with respect to the verses and histories and admonitions, and told him of the case of Talib the son of Sahl. And the Prince of the Faithful said to him: "Would that I had been with you, that I might have beheld what ye beheld!" He then took the bottles, and proceeded to open one after another, and the devils came forth from them, saying: "Repentance, O Prophet of God! We will not return to the like conduct ever!" And Abd-El-Melik the son of Marwan wondered at this. After this, the Prince of the Faithful caused the riches to be brought before him, and divided them among the people. And he said: "God hath not bestowed upon any one the like of what He bestowed upon Solomon the son of David."

This is the end of that which hath come down to us, of the history of the City of Brass, entire. And God is all-knowing.

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THE STORY OF ALI BABA AND THE FORTY THIEVES

In a town in Persia, there lived two brothers, one named Cassim, the other Ali Baba. Their father left them scarcely anything; but as he had divided his little property equally between them, it would seem that their fortune ought to have been equal; but chance determined otherwise.

Cassim married a wife, who soon after became heiress to a large sum, and to a warehouse full of rich goods; so that he all at once became one of the richest and most considerable merchants, and lived at his ease. Ali Baba, on the other hand, who had married a woman as poor as himself, lived in a very wretched habitation, and had no other means to maintain his wife and children but his daily labour of cutting wood, and bringing it to town to sell, upon three asses, which were his whole substance.

One day, when Ali Baba was in the forest, and had just cut wood enough to load his asses, he saw at a distance a great cloud of dust, which seemed to be driven toward him: he observed it very attentively, and distinguished soon after a body of horse. Though there had been no rumour of robbers in that country, Ali Baba began to think that they might prove such, and without considering what might become of his asses, was resolved to save himself. He climbed up a large, thick tree, whose branches, at a little distance from the ground, were so close to one another that there was but little space between them. He placed himself in the middle, from whence he could see all that passed without being discovered; and the tree stood at the base of a single rock, so steep and craggy that nobody could climb up it.

The troop, who were all well mounted and armed, came to the foot of this rock, and there dismounted. Ali Baba counted forty of them, and, from their looks and equipage, was assured that they were robbers. Nor was he mistaken in his opinion; for they were a troop of banditti, who, without doing any harm to the neighbourhood, robbed at a distance, and made that place their rendezvous; but what confirmed him in his opinion was, that every man unbridled his horse, tied him to some shrub, and hung about his neck a bag of corn which they brought behind them. Then each of them took his saddle wallet, which seemed to Ali Baba to be full of gold and silver from its weight. One, who was the most personable amongst them, and whom he took to be their captain, came with his wallet on his back under the tree in which Ali Baba was concealed, and making his way through some shrubs, pronounced these words so distinctly: "Open, Sesame," that Ali Baba heard him. As soon as the captain of the robbers had uttered these words, a door opened in the rock; and after he had made all his troop enter before him, he followed them, when the door shut again of itself. The robbers stayed some time within the rock, and Ali Baba, who feared that some one, or all of them together, might come out and catch him, if he should endeavour to make his escape, was obliged to sit patiently in the tree. He was nevertheless tempted to get down, mount one of their horses, and lead another, driving his asses before him with all the haste he could to town; but the uncertainty of the event made him choose the safest course.

At last the door opened again, and the forty robbers came out. As the captain went in last, he came out first, and stood to see them all pass by him, when Ali Baba heard him make the door close by pronouncing these words: "Shut, Sesame." Every man went and bridled his horse, fastened his wallet, and mounted again; and when the captain saw them all ready, he put himself at their head, and they returned the way they had come. Ali Baba did not immediately quit his tree; for, said he to himself, they may have forgotten something and may come back again, and then I shall be taken. He followed them with his eyes as far as he could see them; and afterward stayed a considerable time before he descended. Remembering the words the captain of the robbers used to cause the door to open and shut, he had the curiosity to try if his pronouncing them would have the same effect. Accordingly, he went among the shrubs, and perceiving the door concealed behind them, stood before it, and said: "Open, Sesame!" The door instantly flew wide open. Ali Baba, who expected a dark dismal cavern, was surprised to see it well lighted and spacious, in the form of a vault, which received the light from an opening at the top of the rock. He saw all sorts of provisions, rich bales of silk stuff, brocade, and valuable carpeting, piled upon one another; gold and silver ingots in great heaps, and money in bags. The sight of all these riches made him suppose that this cave must have been occupied for ages by robbers, who had succeeded one another. Ali Baba did not stand long to consider what he should do, but went immediately into the cave, and as soon as he had entered, the door shut of itself, but this did not disturb him, because he knew the secret to open it again. He never regarded the silver, but made the best use of his time in carrying out as much of the gold coin as he thought his three asses could carry. He collected his asses, which were dispersed, and when he had loaded them with the bags, laid wood over in such a manner that they could not be seen. When he had done he stood before the door, and pronouncing the words: "Shut, Sesame!" the door closed after him, for it had shut of itself while he was within, but remained open while he was out. He then made the best of his way to town.

When Ali Baba got home, he drove his asses into a little yard, shut the gates very carefully, threw off the wood that covered the bags, carried them into his house, and ranged them in order before his wife, who sat on a sofa. His wife handled the bags, and finding them full of money, suspected that her husband had been robbing, insomuch that she could not help saying: "Ali Baba, have you been so unhappy as to——" "Be quiet, wife," interrupted Ali Baba, "do not frighten yourself; I am no robber, unless he may be one who steals from robbers. You will no longer entertain an ill opinion of me, when I shall tell you my good fortune." He then emptied the bags, which raised such a great heap of gold as dazzled his wife's eyes; and when he had done, told her the whole adventure from beginning to end; and, above all, recommended her to keep it secret. The wife, cured of her fears, rejoiced with her husband at their good fortune, and would count all the gold piece by piece. "Wife," replied Ali Baba, "you do not know what you undertake, when you pretend to count the money; you will never have done. I will dig a hole, and bury it; there is no time to be lost." "You are in the right, husband," replied she; "but let us know, as nigh as possible, how much we have. I will borrow a small measure in the neighbourhood, and measure it, while you dig the hole." "What you are going to do is to no purpose, wife," said Ali Baba; "if you would take my advice, you had better let it alone; but keep the secret, and do what you please." Away the wife ran to her brother-in-law Cassim, who lived just by, but was not then at home; and addressing herself to his wife, desired her to lend her a measure for a little while. Her sister-in-law asked her, whether she would have a great or a small one. The wife asked for a small one. The sister-in-law agreed to lend one, but as she knew Ali Baba's poverty, she was curious to know what sort of grain his wife wanted to measure, and artfully putting some suet at the bottom of the measure, brought it to her with an excuse, that she was sorry that she had made her stay so long, but that she could not find it sooner. Ali Baba's wife went home, set the measure upon the heap of gold, filled it and emptied it often upon the sofa, till she had done: when she was very well satisfied to find the number of measures amounted to so many as they did, and went to tell her husband, who had almost finished digging the hole. While Ali Baba was burying the gold, his wife, to show her exactness and diligence to her sister-in-law, carried the measure back again, but without taking notice that a piece of gold had stuck to the bottom. "Sister," said she, giving it to her again, "you see that I have not kept your measure long; I am obliged to you for it, and return it with thanks."

As soon as her sister-in-law was gone, Cassim's wife looked at the bottom of the measure, and was inexpressibly surprised to find a piece of gold stuck to it. Envy immediately possessed her breast. "What!" said she, "has Ali Baba gold so plentiful as to measure it? Where has that poor wretch got all this wealth?" Cassim, her husband, was not at home, but at his counting-house, which he left always in the evening. His wife waited for him, and thought the time an age; so great was her impatience to tell him the circumstance, at which she guessed he would be as much surprised as herself.

When Cassim came home, his wife said to him: "Cassim, I know you think yourself rich, but you are much mistaken; Ali Baba is infinitely richer than you; he does not count his money, but measures it." Cassim desired her to explain the riddle, which she did, by telling him the stratagem she had used to make the discovery, and showed him the piece of money, which was so old that they could not tell in what prince's reign it was coined. Cassim, instead of being pleased, conceived a base envy at his brother's prosperity; he could not sleep all that night, and went to him in the morning before sunrise, although after he had married the rich widow, he had never treated him as a brother, but neglected him. "Ali Baba," said he, accosting him, "you are very reserved in your affairs; you pretend to be miserably poor, and yet you measure gold." "How, brother?" replied Ali Baba; "I do not know what you mean: explain yourself." "Do not pretend ignorance," replied Cassim, showing him the piece of gold his wife had given him. "How many of these pieces," added he, "have you? My wife found this at the bottom of the measure you borrowed yesterday."

By this discourse, Ali Baba perceived that Cassim and his wife, through his own wife's folly, knew what they had so much reason to conceal; but what was done could not be recalled; therefore, without shewing the least surprise or trouble, he confessed all, told his brother by what chance he had discovered this retreat of the thieves, in what place it was; and offered him part of his treasure to keep the secret. "I expect as much," replied Cassim haughtily; "but I must know exactly where this treasure is, and how I may visit it myself when I choose; otherwise I will go and inform against you, and then you will not only get no more, but will lose all you have, and I shall have a share for my information."

Ali Baba, more out of his natural good temper, than frightened by the menaces of his unnatural brother, told him all he desired, and even the very words he was to use to gain admission into the cave.

Cassim, who wanted no more of Ali Baba, left him, resolving to be beforehand with him, and hoping to get all the treasure to himself. He rose the next morning long before the sun, and set out for the forest with ten mules bearing great chests, which he designed to fill; and followed the road which Ali Baba had pointed out to him. He was not long before he reached the rock, and found out the place by the tree, and other marks, which his brother had given him. When he reached the entrance of the cavern, he pronounced the words: "Open, Sesame!" and the door immediately opened, and when he was in, closed upon him. In examining the cave, he was in great admiration to find much more riches than he had apprehended from Ali Baba's account. He was so covetous, and greedy of wealth, that he could have spent the whole day in feasting his eyes with so much treasure, if the thought that he came to carry some away had not hindered him. He laid as many bags of gold as he could carry at the door of the cavern, but his thoughts were so full of the great riches he should possess, that he could not think of the necessary word to make it open, but instead of "Sesame," said: "Open, Barley!" and was much amazed to find that the door remained fast shut. He named several sorts of grain, but still the door would not open. Cassim had never expected such an incident, and was so alarmed at the danger he was in, that the more he endeavoured to remember the word "Sesame," the more his memory was confounded, and he had as much forgotten it as if he had never heard it mentioned. He threw down the bags he had loaded himself with and walked distractedly up and down the cave, without having the least regard to the riches that were round him. About noon the robbers chanced to visit their cave, and at some distance from it saw Cassim's mules straggling about the rock, with great chests on their backs. Alarmed at this novelty, they galloped full speed to the cave. They drove away the mules, which Cassim had neglected to fasten, and they strayed through the forest so far, that they were soon out of sight. The robbers never gave themselves the trouble to pursue them, being more concerned to know to whom they belonged, and while some of them searched about the rock, the captain and the rest went directly to the door, with their naked sabres in their hands, and pronouncing the proper words, it opened.

Cassim ... was so alarmed at the danger he was in that the more he endeavoured to remember the word Sesame the more his memory was confounded.

Cassim, who heard the noise of the horses' feet from the middle of the cave, never doubted of the arrival of the robbers, and his approaching death; but was resolved to make one effort to escape from them. To this end he rushed to the door, and no sooner heard the word Sesame, which he had forgotten, and saw the door open, than he ran out and threw the leader down, but could not escape the other robbers, who with their sabres soon deprived him of life. The first care of the robbers after this was to examine the cave. They found all the bags which Cassim had brought to the door, to be ready to load his mules, and carried them again to their places, without missing what Ali Baba had taken away before. Then holding a council, and deliberating upon this occurrence, they guessed that Cassim, when he was in, could not get out again; but could not imagine how he had entered. It came into their heads that he might have got down by the top of the cave; but the aperture by which it received light was so high, and the rocks so inaccessible without, that they gave up this conjecture. That he came in at the door they could not believe, however, unless he had the secret of making it open. In short, none of them could imagine which way he had entered; for they were all persuaded nobody knew their secret, little imagining that Ali Baba had watched them. It was a matter of the greatest importance to them to secure their riches. They agreed therefore to cut Cassim's body into quarters, to hang two on one side and two on the other, within the door of the cave, to terrify any person who should attempt again to enter. They had no sooner taken this resolution than they put it in execution, and when they had nothing more to detain them, left the place of their hoards well closed. They then mounted their horses, went to beat the roads again, and to attack the caravans they might meet.

In the meantime, Cassim's wife was very uneasy when night came, and her husband was not returned. She ran to Ali Baba in alarm, and said: "I believe, brother-in-law, that you know Cassim, your brother, is gone to the forest, and upon what account; it is now night, and he is not returned; I am afraid some misfortune has happened to him." Ali Baba, who had expected that his brother, after what he had said, would go to the forest, had declined going himself that day, for fear of giving him any umbrage; therefore told her, without any reflection upon her husband's unhandsome behaviour, that she need not frighten herself, for that certainly Cassim would not think it proper to come into the town till the night should be pretty far advanced.

Cassim's wife, considering how much it concerned her husband to keep the business secret, was the more easily persuaded to believe her brother-in-law. She went home again, and waited patiently till midnight. She repented of her foolish curiosity, and cursed her desire of penetrating into the affairs of her brother and sister-in-law. She spent all the night in weeping; and as soon as it was day, went to them, telling them, by her tears, the cause of her coming. Ali Baba did not wait for his sister-in-law to desire him to go and see what was become of Cassim, but departed immediately with his three asses, begging of her first to moderate her affliction. He went to the forest, and when he came near the rock, having seen neither his brother nor the mules in his way, was seriously alarmed at finding some blood spilt near the door, which he took for an ill omen; but when he had pronounced the word, and the door had opened, he was struck with horror at the dismal sight of his brother's body. Without adverting to the little fraternal affection his brother had shewn for him, Ali Baba went into the cave to find something to enshroud his remains, and having loaded one of his asses with them, covered them over with wood. The other two asses he loaded with bags of gold, covering them with wood also as before; and then bidding the door shut, came away; but was so cautious as to stop some time at the end of the forest, that he might not go into the town before night. When he came home, he drove the two asses loaded with gold into his little yard, and left the care of unloading them to his wife, while he led the other to his sister-in-law's house.

Ali Baba knocked at the door, which was opened by Morgiana, an intelligent slave, fruitful in inventions to insure success in the most difficult undertakings: and Ali Baba knew her to be such. When he came into the court, he unloaded the ass, and taking Morgiana aside, said to her: "The first thing I ask of you is an inviolable secrecy, both for your mistress's sake and mine. Your master's body is contained in these two bundles, and our business is, to bury him as if he had died a natural death. Go, tell your mistress I want to speak with her; and mind what I have said to you."

Morgiana went to her mistress, and Ali Baba followed her. "Well, brother," said she, with impatience, "what news do you bring me of my husband? I perceive no comfort in your countenance." "Sister," answered Ali Baba, "I cannot satisfy your inquiries unless you hear my story without speaking a word; for it is of as great importance to you as to me to keep what has happened secret." "Alas!" said she, "this preamble lets me know that my husband is not to be found; but at the same time I know the necessity of secrecy, and I must constrain myself: say on, I will hear you."

Ali Baba then detailed the incidents of his journey, till he came to the finding of Cassim's body. "Now," said he, "sister, I have something to relate which will afflict you the more, because it is what you so little expect; but it cannot now be remedied; if my endeavours can comfort you, I offer to put that which God hath sent me to what you have, and marry you: assuring you that my wife will not be jealous, and that we shall live happily together. If this proposal is agreeable to you, we must think of acting so that my brother should appear to have died a natural death. I think you may leave the management of the business to Morgiana, and I will contribute all that lies in my power to your consolation." What could Cassim's widow do better than accept of this proposal? for though her first husband had left behind him a plentiful substance, his brother was now much richer, and by the discovery of this treasure might be still more so. Instead, therefore, of rejecting the offer, she regarded it as the sure means of comfort; and drying up her tears, which had begun to flow abundantly, and suppressing the outcries usual with women who have lost their husbands, showed Ali Baba that she approved of his proposal. Ali Baba left the widow, recommended to Morgiana to act her part well, and then returned home with his ass.

Morgiana went out at the same time to an apothecary, and asked for a sort of lozenges which he prepared, and were very efficacious in the most dangerous disorders. The apothecary inquired who was ill at her master's? She replied with a sigh, her good master Cassim himself: that they knew not what his disorder was, but that he could neither eat nor speak. After these words, Morgiana carried the lozenges home with her, and the next morning went to the same apothecary's again, and with tears in her eyes, asked for an essence which they used to give to sick people only when at the last extremity. "Alas!" said she, taking it from the apothecary, "I am afraid that this remedy will have no better effect than the lozenges; and that I shall lose my good master." On the other hand, as Ali Baba and his wife were often seen to go between Cassim's and their own house all that day, and to seem melancholy, nobody was surprised in the evening to hear the lamentable shrieks and cries of Cassim's wife and Morgiana, who gave out everywhere that her master was dead. The next morning, soon after day appeared, Morgiana, who knew a certain old cobbler that opened his stall early, before other people, went to him, and bidding him good morrow, put a piece of gold into his hand. "Well," said Baba Mustapha, which was his name, and who was a merry old fellow, looking at the gold, "this is good hansel: what must I do for it? I am ready."

"Baba Mustapha," said Morgiana, "you must take with you your sewing tackle, and go with me; but I must tell you, I shall blindfold you when you come to such a place." Baba Mustapha seemed to hesitate a little at these words. "Oh! oh!" replied he, "you would have me do something against my conscience or against my honour?" "God forbid!" said Morgiana, putting another piece of gold into his hand, "that I should ask anything that is contrary to your honour; only come along with me, and fear nothing."

Baba Mustapha went with Morgiana, who, after she had bound his eyes with a handkerchief, conveyed him to her deceased master's house, and never unloosed his eyes till he had entered the room where she had put the corpse together. "Baba Mustapha," said she, "you must make haste and sew these quarters together; and when you have done, I will give you another piece of gold." After Baba Mustapha had finished his task, she blindfolded him again, gave him the third piece of gold as she had promised, and recommending secrecy to him, carried him back to the place where she first bound his eyes, pulled off the bandage, and let him go home, but watched him that he returned toward his stall, till he was quite out of sight, for fear he should have the curiosity to return and track her.

By the time Morgiana had warmed some water to wash the body, Ali Baba came with incense to embalm it, after which it was sewn up in a winding-sheet. Not long after, the joiner, according to Ali Baba's orders, brought the bier, which Morgiana received at the door, and helped Ali Baba to put the body into it; when she went to the mosque to inform the imaum that they were ready. The people of the mosque, whose business it was to wash the dead, offered to perform their duty, but she told them that it was done already. Morgiana had scarcely got home before the imaum and the other ministers of the mosque arrived. Four neighbours carried the corpse on their shoulders to the burying-ground, following the imaum, who recited some prayers. Morgiana, as a slave to the deceased, followed the corpse, weeping, beating her breast, and tearing her hair; and Ali Baba came after with some neighbours, who often relieved the others in carrying the corpse to the burying-ground. Cassim's wife stayed at home mourning, uttering lamentable cries with the women of the neighbourhood, who came according to custom during the funeral, and joining their lamentations with hers, filled the quarter far and near with sorrow. In this manner Cassim's melancholy death was concealed and hushed up between Ali Baba, his wife, Cassim's widow, and Morgiana, with so much contrivance, that nobody in the city had the least knowledge or suspicion of the cause of it.

Three or four days after the funeral, Ali Baba removed his few goods openly to the widow's house; but the money he had taken from the robbers he conveyed thither by night: soon after the marriage with his sister-in-law was published, and as these marriages are common in the Mussulman religion, nobody was surprised. As for Cassim's warehouse, Ali Baba gave it to his own eldest son, promising that if he managed it well, he would soon give him a fortune to marry very advantageously according to his situation.

Let us now leave Ali Baba to enjoy the beginning of his good fortune, and return to the forty robbers. They came again at the appointed time to visit their retreat in the forest; but great was their surprise to find Cassim's body taken away, with some of their bags of gold. "We are certainly discovered," said the captain, "and if we do not speedily apply some remedy, shall gradually lose all the riches which we have, with so much pains and danger, been so many years amassing together. All that we can think of the loss which we have sustained is, that the thief whom we surprised had the secret of opening the door, and we arrived luckily as he was coming out: but his body being removed, and with it some of our money, plainly shows that he had an accomplice; and as it is likely that there were but two who had discovered our secret, and one has been caught, we must look narrowly after the other. What say you, my lads?" All the robbers thought the captain's proposal so advisable, that they unanimously approved of it, and agreed that they must lay all other enterprises aside, to follow this closely, and not give it up till they had succeeded.

"I expected no less," said the captain, "from your fidelity: but, first of all, one of you who is artful, and enterprising, must go into the town disguised as a traveller, to try if he can hear any talk of the strange death of the man whom we have killed, as he deserved; and endeavour to find out who he was, and where he lived. This is a matter of the first importance for us to ascertain, that we may do nothing which we may have reason to repent of, by discovering ourselves in a country where we have lived so long unknown. But to warn him who shall take upon himself this commission, and to prevent our being deceived by his giving us a false report, I ask you all, if you do not think that in case of treachery, or even error of judgment, he should suffer death?" Without waiting for the suffrages of his companions, one of the robbers started up, and said: "I submit to this condition, and think it an honour to expose my life, by taking the commission upon me; but remember, at least, if I do not succeed, that I neither wanted courage nor good will to serve the troop." After this robber had received great commendations from the captain, he disguised himself, and taking his leave of the troop that night, went into the town just at daybreak; and walked up and down, till accidentally he came to Baba Mustapha's stall, which was always open before any of the shops.

Baba Mustapha was seated with an awl in his hand, just going to work. The robber saluted him, bidding him good morrow; and perceiving that he was old, said: "Honest man, you begin to work very early: is it possible that one of your age can see so well? I question, even if it were somewhat lighter, whether you could see to stitch."

"Certainly," replied Baba Mustapha, "you must be a stranger, and do not know me; for old as I am, I have extraordinarily good eyes; and you will not doubt it when I tell you that I sewed a dead body together in a place where I had not so much light as I have now." The robber was overjoyed to think that he had addressed himself, at his first coming into the town, to a man who in all probability could give him the intelligence he wanted. "A dead body!" replied he with affected amazement. "What could you sew up a dead body for? You mean you sewed up his winding-sheet." "No, no," answered Baba Mustapha, "I perceive your meaning; you want to have me speak out, but you shall know no more." The robber wanted no farther assurance to be persuaded that he had discovered what he sought. He pulled out a piece of gold, and putting it into Baba Mustapha's hand, said to him: "I do not want to learn your secret, though I can assure you I would not divulge it, if you trusted me with it; the only thing which I desire of you is, to do me the favour to shew me the house where you stitched up the dead body."

"If I were disposed to do you that favour," replied Baba Mustapha, holding the money in his hand, ready to return it, "I assure you I cannot. I was taken to a certain place, where I was blinded, I was then led to the house, and afterward brought back again in the same manner; you see, therefore, the impossibility of my doing what you desire."

"Well," replied the robber, "you may, however, remember a little of the way that you were led blindfolded. Come, let me blind your eyes at the same place. We will walk together; perhaps you may recognise some part; and as everybody ought to be paid for his trouble, there is another piece of gold for you; gratify me in what I ask you." So saying, he put another piece of gold into his hand.

The two pieces of gold were great temptations to Baba Mustapha. He looked at them a long time in his hand, without saying a word, thinking with himself what he should do; but at last he pulled out his purse, and put them in. "I cannot assure you," said he to the robber, "that I can remember the way exactly; but since you desire, I will try what I can do." At these words Baba Mustapha rose up, to the great joy of the robber, and without shutting his shop, where he had nothing valuable to lose, he led the robber to the place where Morgiana had bound his eyes. "It was here," said Baba Mustapha, "I was blindfolded; and I turned as you see me." The robber, who had his handkerchief ready, tied it over his eyes, walked by him till he stopped, partly leading, and partly guided by him. "I think," said Baba Mustapha, "I went no farther," and he had now stopped directly at Cassim's house, where Ali Baba then lived. The thief, before he pulled off the band, marked the door with a piece of chalk, which he had ready in his hand; and then asked him if he knew whose house that was; to which Baba Mustapha replied, that as he did not live in that neighbourhood he could not tell. The robber, finding he could discover no more from Baba Mustapha, thanked him for the trouble he had taken, and left him to go back to his stall, while he returned to the forest, persuaded that he should be very well received. A little after the robber and Baba Mustapha had parted, Morgiana went out of Ali Baba's house upon some errand, and upon her return, seeing the mark the robber had made, stopped to observe it. "What can be the meaning of this mark?" said she to herself. "Somebody intends my master no good: however, with whatever intention it was done, it is advisable to guard against the worst." Accordingly, she fetched a piece of chalk, and marked two or three doors on each side in the same manner, without saying a word to her master or mistress.

In the meantime the thief rejoined his troop in the forest, and recounted to them his success. All the robbers listened to him with the utmost satisfaction; when the captain, after commending his diligence, addressing himself to them all, said: "Comrades, we have no time to lose: let us set off well armed; but that we may not excite any suspicion, let only one or two go into the town together, and join at our rendezvous, which shall be the great square. In the meantime, our comrade who brought us the good news, and I, will go and find out the house, that we may consult what had best be done."

This plan was approved of by all, and they were soon ready. They filed off in parties of two each, and got into the town without being in the least suspected. The captain, and he who had visited the town in the morning as spy, came in the last. He led the captain into the street where he had marked Ali Baba's residence; and when they came to the first of the houses which Morgiana had marked, he pointed it out. But the captain observed that the next door was chalked in the same manner: and shewing it to his guide, asked him which house it was, that, or the first? The guide was so confounded, that he knew not what answer to make; but still more puzzled, when he saw five or six houses similarly marked. He assured the captain, with an oath, that he had marked but one, and could not tell who had chalked the rest so that he could not distinguish the house which the cobbler had stopped at.

The captain, finding that their design had proved abortive, went directly to the place of rendezvous, and told the first of his troop whom he met that they had lost their labour, and must return to their cave. When the troop was all got together, the captain told them the reason of their returning; and presently the conductor was declared by all worthy of death. He condemned himself, acknowledging that he ought to have taken better precaution, and prepared to receive the stroke from him who was appointed to cut off his head. Another of the gang, who promised himself that he should succeed better, immediately presented himself, and his offer being accepted, he went and corrupted Baba Mustapha, as the other had done; and being shewn the house, marked it in a place more remote from sight, with red chalk.

Not long after, Morgiana, whose eyes nothing could escape, went out, and seeing the red chalk, and arguing with herself as she had done before, marked the other neighbours' houses in the same place and manner. The robber, at his return to his company, valued himself much on the precaution he had taken, which he looked upon as an infallible way of distinguishing Ali Baba's house from the others; and the captain and all of them thought it must succeed. They conveyed themselves into the town with the same precaution as before; but when the robber and his captain came to the street, they found the same difficulty: at which the captain was enraged, and the robber in as great confusion as his predecessor. Thus the captain and his troop were forced to retire a second time, and much more dissatisfied; while the unfortunate robber, who had been the author of the mistake, underwent the same punishment; which he willingly submitted to.

The captain, having lost two brave fellows of his troop, was afraid of diminishing it too much by pursuing this plan to get information of the residence of their plunderer. He found by their example that their heads were not so good as their hands on such occasions; and therefore resolved to take upon himself the important commission. Accordingly, he went and addressed himself to Baba Mustapha, who did him the same service he had done to the other robbers. He did not set any particular mark on the house, but examined and observed it so carefully, by passing often by it, that it was impossible for him to mistake it.

The captain, well satisfied with his attempt, and informed of what he wanted to know, returned to the forest; and when he came into the cave, where the troop waited for him, said: "Now, comrades, nothing can prevent our full revenge, as I am certain of the house, and in my way hither I have thought how to put it into execution, but if any one can form a better expedient, let him communicate it." He then told them his contrivance; and as they approved of it, ordered them to go into the villages about, and buy nineteen mules, with thirty-eight large leather jars, one full of oil, and the others empty. In two or three days' time the robbers had purchased the mules and jars, and as the mouths of the jars were rather too narrow for his purpose, the captain caused them to be widened; and after having put one of his men into each, with the weapons which he thought fit, leaving open the seam which had been undone to leave them room to breathe, he rubbed the jars on the outside with oil from the full vessel. Things being thus prepared, when the nineteen mules were loaded with thirty-seven robbers in jars, and the jar of oil, the captain, as their driver, set out with them, and reached the town by the dusk of the evening, as he had intended. He led them through the streets till he came to Ali Baba's, at whose door he designed to have knocked; but was prevented by his sitting there after supper to take a little fresh air. He stopped his mules, addressed himself to him, and said: "I have brought some oil a great way, to sell at to-morrow's market; and it is now so late that I do not know where to lodge. If I should not be troublesome to you, do me the favour to let me pass the night with you, and I shall be very much obliged by your hospitality."

Though Ali Baba had seen the captain of the robbers in the forest, and had heard him speak, it was hardly possible to know him in the disguise of an oil-merchant. He told him he should be welcome, and immediately opened his gates for the mules to go into the yard. At the same time he called to a slave, and ordered him, when the mules were unloaded, to put them into the stable, and give them fodder; and then went to Morgiana, to bid her get a good supper. He did more. When he saw the captain had unloaded his mules, and that they were put into the stables as he had ordered, and he was looking for a place to pass the night in the air, he brought him into the hall where he received his company, telling him he would not suffer him to be in the court. The captain excused himself on pretence of not being troublesome; but really to have room to execute his design, and it was not till after the most pressing importunity that he yielded. Ali Baba, not content to keep company, till supper was ready, with the man who had a design on his life, continued talking with him till it was ended, and repeating his offer of service. The captain rose up at the same time with his host; and while Ali Baba went to speak to Morgiana he withdrew into the yard, under pretence of looking at his mules. Ali Baba, after charging Morgiana afresh to take care of his guest, said to her: "To-morrow morning I design to go to the bath before day; take care my bathing linens be ready, give them to Abdoollah," which was the slave's name, "and make me some good broth against I return." After this he went to bed.

In the meantime, the captain went from the stable to give his people orders what to do; and beginning at the first jar, and so on to the last, said to each man: "As soon as I throw some stones out of the chamber window where I lie, do not fail to cut the jar open with the knife you have about you for the purpose, and come out, and I will immediately join you." After this he returned into the house, when Morgiana, taking up a light, conducted him to his chamber, where she left him; and he, to avoid any suspicion, put the light out soon after, and laid himself down in his clothes, that he might be the more ready to rise.

Morgiana, remembering Ali Baba's orders, got his bathing linens ready, and ordered Abdoollah to set on the pot for the broth; but while she was preparing it, the lamp went out, and there was no more oil in the house, nor any candles. What to do she did not know, for the broth must be made. Abdoollah seeing her very uneasy, said: "Do not fret and tease yourself, but go into the yard, and take some oil out of one of the jars." Morgiana thanked Abdoollah for his advice, took the oil-pot, and went into the yard; when as she came nigh the first jar, the robber within said softly: "Is it time?" Though the robber spoke low, Morgiana was struck with the voice the more, because the captain, when he unloaded the mules, had taken the lids off this and all the other jars to give air to his men, who were ill enough at their ease, almost wanting room to breathe. As much surprised as Morgiana naturally was at finding a man in a jar, instead of the oil she wanted, many would have made such an outcry as to have given an alarm; whereas Morgiana comprehending immediately the importance of keeping silence, and the necessity of applying a speedy remedy without noise, conceived at once the means, and collecting herself without shewing the least emotion, answered: "Not yet, but presently." She went in this manner to all the jars, giving the same answer, till she came to the jar of oil.

By this means, Morgiana found that her master Ali Baba, who thought that he had entertained an oil merchant, had admitted thirty-eight robbers into his house, regarding this pretended merchant as their captain. She made what haste she could to fill her oil-pot, and returned into her kitchen; where, as soon as she had lighted her lamp, she took a great kettle, went again to the oil-jar, filled the kettle, set it on a large wood-fire, and as soon as it boiled went and poured enough into every jar to stifle and destroy the robber within.

When this action, worthy of the courage of Morgiana, was executed without any noise, she returned into the kitchen with the empty kettle; and having put out the great fire she had made to boil the oil, and leaving just enough to make the broth, put out the lamp also, and remained silent; resolving not to go to rest till she had observed what might follow through a window of the kitchen, which opened into the yard.

She had not waited long before the captain of the robbers got up, opened the window, and finding no light, and hearing no noise, or any one stirring in the house, gave the appointed signal, by throwing little stones, several of which hit the jars, as he doubted not by the sound they gave. He then listened, but not hearing or perceiving anything whereby he could judge that his companions stirred, he began to grow very uneasy, threw stones again a second and also a third time, and could not comprehend the reason that none of them should answer his signal. Much alarmed, he went softly down into the yard, and going to the first jar, whilst asking the robber, whom he thought alive, if he was in readiness, smelt the hot boiled oil, which sent forth a steam out of the jar. Hence he suspected that his plot to murder Ali Baba and plunder his house was discovered. Examining all the jars one after another, he found that all the members of his gang were dead; and by the oil he missed out of the last jar guessed the means and manner of their death. Enraged to despair at having failed in his design, he forced the lock of a door that led from the yard to the garden, and climbing over the walls, made his escape.

When Morgiana heard no noise, and found, after waiting some time, that the captain did not return, she concluded that he had chosen rather to make his escape by the garden than the street door, which was double-locked. Satisfied and pleased to have succeeded so well, in saving her master and family, she went to bed.

Ali Baba rose before day, and, followed by his slave, went to the baths, entirely ignorant of the important event which had happened at home; for Morgiana had not thought it safe to wake him before, for fear of losing her opportunity; and after her successful exploit she thought it needless to disturb him.

When he returned from the baths, the sun was risen; he was very much surprised to see the oil jars and that the merchant was not gone with the mules. He asked Morgiana, who opened the door, and had let all things stand as they were, that he might see them, the reason of it. "My good master," answered she, "God preserve you and all your family; you will be better informed of what you wish to know when you have seen what I have to show you, if you will but give yourself the trouble to follow me."

As soon as Morgiana had shut the door, Ali Baba followed her; when she requested him to look into the first jar and see if there was any oil. Ali Baba did so, and seeing a man, started back in alarm, and cried out. "Do not be afraid," said Morgiana; "the man you see there can neither do you nor anybody else any harm. He is dead." "Ah, Morgiana!" said Ali Baba, "what is it you show me? Explain yourself." "I will," replied Morgiana; "moderate your astonishment, and do not excite the curiosity of your neighbours. Look into all the other jars."

Ali Baba examined all the other jars, and when he came to that which had the oil in, found it prodigiously sunk, and stood for some time motionless, sometimes looking at the jars, and sometimes at Morgiana, without saying a word, so great was his surprise: at last, when he had recovered himself, he said: "And what is become of the merchant?"

"Merchant!" answered she, "he is as much one as I am; I will tell you who he is, and what is become of him: but you had better hear the story in your own chamber; for it is time for your health that you had your broth after your bathing."

While Ali Baba retired to his chamber, Morgiana went into the kitchen to fetch the broth, but before he would drink it, he first entreated her to satisfy his impatience, and tell him what had happened, with all the circumstances; and she obeyed him.

"This," she said, when she had completed her story, "is the account you asked of me; and I am convinced it is the consequence of what I observed some days ago, but did not think fit to acquaint you with; for when I came in one morning early I found our street door marked with white chalk, and the next morning with red; upon which, both times without knowing what was the intention of those chalks, I marked two or three neighbours' doors on each side in the same manner. If you reflect on this, and what has since happened, you will find it to be a plot of the robbers of the forest, of whose gang there are two wanting, and now they are reduced to three: all this shows that they had sworn your destruction, and it is proper you should be upon your guard, while there is one of them alive: for my part, I shall neglect nothing necessary to your preservation, as I am in duty bound."

When Morgiana had left off speaking, Ali Baba was so sensible of the great service she had done him, that he said to her: "I will not die without rewarding you as you deserve; I owe my life to you, and for the first token of my acknowledgment, give you your liberty from this moment, till I can complete your recompense as I intend. I am persuaded with you, that the forty robbers have laid snares for my destruction. God, by your means, has delivered me from them as yet, and I hope will continue to preserve me from their wicked designs, and deliver the world from their persecution. All that we have to do is to bury the bodies of these pests of mankind immediately, and with all the secrecy imaginable, that nobody may suspect what is become of them. But that labour Abdoollah and I will undertake."

Ali Baba's garden was very long, and shaded at the farther end by a great number of large trees. Under these he and the slave dug a trench, long and wide enough to hold all the robbers. Afterward they lifted the bodies out of the jars, took away their weapons, carried them to the end of the garden, laid them in the trench, and levelled the ground again. When this was done, Ali Baba hid the jars and weapons; and as he had no occasion for the mules, he sent them at different times to be sold in the market by his slave.

While Ali Baba took these measures to prevent the public from knowing how he came by his riches in so short a time, the captain of the forty robbers returned to the forest with inconceivable mortification; and in his confusion at his ill success, so contrary to what he had promised himself, entered the cave, not being able, all the way from the town, to come to any resolution how to revenge himself of Ali Baba.

The loneliness of the gloomy cavern became frightful to him. "Where are you, my brave lads," cried he, "old companions of my watchings, inroads, and labour? What can I do without you? Did I collect you only to lose you by so base a fate, and so unworthy of your courage! Had you died with your sabres in your hands, like brave men, my regret had been less! When shall I enlist so gallant a troop again? And if I could, can I undertake it without exposing so much gold and treasure to him who hath already enriched himself out of it? I cannot, I ought not to think of it, before I have taken away his life. I will undertake that alone, which I could not accomplish with your powerful assistance; and when I have taken measures to secure this treasure from being pillaged, I will provide for it new masters and successors after me, who shall preserve and augment it to all posterity." This resolution being taken, he was not at a loss how to execute his purpose; but full of hopes, slept all that night very quietly.

When he awoke early next morning, he dressed himself, agreeably to the project he had formed, went to the town, and took a lodging in a khan. As he expected what had happened at Ali Baba's might make a great noise, he asked his host what news there was in the city? Upon which the innkeeper told him a great many circumstances, which did not concern him in the least. He judged by this, that the reason why Ali Baba kept his affairs so secret, was for fear people should know where the treasure lay; and because he knew his life would be sought on account of it. This urged him the more to neglect nothing to rid himself of so cautious an enemy.

The captain now assumed the character of a merchant, and conveyed gradually a great many sorts of rich stuffs and fine linen to his lodging from the cavern, but with all the necessary precautions imaginable to conceal the place whence he brought them. In order to dispose of the merchandise, when he had amassed them together, he took a warehouse, which happened to be opposite to Cassim's, which Ali Baba's son had occupied since the death of his uncle.

He took the name of Khaujeh Houssain, and as a newcomer, was, according to custom, extremely civil and complaisant to all the merchants his neighbours. Ali Baba's son was from his vicinity one of the first to converse with Khaujeh Houssain, who strove to cultivate his friendship more particularly when, two or three days after he was settled, he recognised Ali Baba, who came to see his son, and stopped to talk with him as he was accustomed to do. When he was gone, the impostor learnt from his son who he was. He increased his assiduities, caressed him in the most engaging manner, made him some small presents, and often asked him to dine and sup with him.

Ali Baba's son did not choose to lie under such obligation to Khaujeh Houssain, without making the like return; but was so much straitened for want of room in his house, that he could not entertain him so well as he wished; he therefore acquainted his father Ali Baba with his intention, and told him that it did not look well for him to receive such favours from Khaujeh Houssain without inviting him in return.

Ali Baba, with great pleasure, took the treat upon himself. "Son," said he, "to-morrow being Friday, which is a day that the shops of such great merchants as Khaujeh Houssain and yourself are shut, get him to take a walk with you, and as you come back, pass by my door and call in. It will look better to have it happen accidentally, than if you gave him a formal invitation. I will go and order Morgiana to provide a supper."

The next day Ali Baba's son and Khaujeh Houssain met by appointment, took their walk, and as they returned, Ali Baba's son led Khaujeh Houssain through the street where his father lived; and when they came to the house, stopped and knocked at the door. "This, sir," said he, "is my father's house; who, from the account I have given him of your friendship, charged me to procure him the honour of your acquaintance."

Though it was the sole aim of Khaujeh Houssain to introduce himself into Ali Baba's house, that he might kill him without hazarding his own life or making any noise; yet he excused himself, and offered to take his leave. But a slave having opened the door, Ali Baba's son took him obligingly by the hand, and in a manner forced him in.

Ali Baba received Khaujeh Houssain with a smiling countenance, and in the most obliging manner. He thanked him for all the favours he had done his son; adding withal, the obligation was the greater, as he was a young man not much acquainted with the world.

Khaujeh Houssain returned the compliment, by assuring Ali Baba, that though his son might not have acquired the experience of older men, he had good sense equal to the knowledge of many others. After a little more conversation on different subjects, he offered again to take his leave; when Ali Baba, stopping him, said: "Where are you going, sir, in so much haste? I beg you would do me the honour to sup with me, though what I have to give you is not worth your acceptance; but such as it is, I hope you will accept it as heartily as I give it." "Sir," replied Khaujeh Houssain, "I am thoroughly persuaded of your good will; and if I ask the favour of you not to take it ill that I do not accept your obliging invitation, I beg of you to believe that it does not proceed from any slight or intention to affront, but from a reason which you would approve if you knew it.

"And what may that reason be, sir," replied Ali Baba, "if I may be so bold as to ask you?" "It is," answered Khaujeh Houssain, "that I can eat no victuals that have any salt in them; therefore judge how I should feel at your table." "If that is the only reason," said Ali Baba, "it ought not to deprive me of the honour of your company at supper; for, in the first place, there is no salt ever put into my bread, and as to the meat we shall have to-night, I promise you there shall be none in that. Therefore you must do me the favour to stay. I will return immediately."

Ali Baba went into the kitchen, and ordered Morgiana to put no salt to the meat that was to be dressed that night; and to make quickly two or three ragouts besides what he had ordered, but be sure to put no salt in them.

Morgiana, who was always ready to obey her master, could not help seeming somewhat dissatisfied at his strange order. "Who is this difficult man," said she, "who eats no salt with his meat? Your supper will be spoiled, if I keep it back so long." "Do not be angry, Morgiana," replied Ali Baba; "he is an honest man; therefore do as I bid you."

Morgiana obeyed, though with no little reluctance, and had a curiosity to see this man who ate no salt. To this end, when she had finished what she had to do in the kitchen, she helped Abdoollah to carry up the dishes; and looking at Khaujeh Houssain, knew him at first sight, notwithstanding his disguise, to be the captain of the robbers, and examining him very carefully, perceived that he had a dagger under his garment. "I am not in the least amazed," said she to herself, "that this wicked wretch, who is my master's greatest enemy, would eat no salt with him, since he intends to assassinate him; but I will prevent him."

Morgiana, while they were eating, made the necessary preparations for executing one of the boldest acts ever meditated, and had just determined, when Abdoollah came for the dessert of fruit, which she carried up, and as soon as he had taken the meat away, set upon the table; after that, she placed three glasses by Ali Baba, and going out, took Abdoollah with her to sup, and to give Ali Baba the more liberty of conversation with his guest.

Khaujeh Houssain, or rather the captain of the robbers, thought he had now a favourable opportunity of being revenged on Ali Baba. "I will," said he to himself, "make the father and son both drunk: the son, whose life I intend to spare, will not be able to prevent my stabbing his father to the heart; and while the slaves are at supper, or asleep in the kitchen, I can make my escape over the gardens as before."

Instead of going to supper, Morgiana, who had penetrated the intentions of the counterfeit Khaujeh Houssain, would not give him time to put his villainous design into execution, but dressed herself neatly with a suitable head-dress like a dancer, girded her waist with a silver-gilt girdle, to which there hung a poniard with a hilt and guard of the same metal, and put a handsome mask on her face. When she had thus disguised herself, she said to Abdoollah: "Take your tabor, and let us go and divert our master and his son's guest, as we do sometimes when he is alone."

Abdoollah took his tabor and played all the way into the hall before Morgiana, who when she came to the door made a low obeisance, with a deliberate air, in order to draw attention, and by way of asking leave to exhibit her skill. Abdoollah, seeing that his master had a mind to say something, left off playing. "Come in, Morgiana," said Ali Baba, "and let Khaujeh Houssain see what you can do, that he may tell us what he thinks of you. But, sir," said he, turning toward his guest, "do not think that I put myself to any expense to give you this diversion, since these are my slave and my cook and housekeeper; and I hope you will not find the entertainment they give us disagreeable."

Khaujeh Houssain, who did not expect this diversion after supper, began to fear he should not be able to improve the opportunity he thought he had found: but hoped, if he now missed his aim, to secure it another time, by keeping up a friendly correspondence with the father and son; therefore, though he could have wished Ali Baba would have declined the dance, he had the complaisance to express his satisfaction at what he saw pleased his host.

As soon as Abdoollah saw that Ali Baba and Khaujeh Houssain had done talking, he began to play on the tabor, and accompanied it with an air; to which Morgiana, who was an excellent performer, danced in such a manner as would have created admiration in any other company besides that before which she now exhibited, among whom, perhaps, none but the false Khaujeh Houssain was in the least attentive to her, the rest having seen her so frequently.

After she had danced several dances with equal propriety and grace, she drew the poniard, and holding it in her hand, began a dance, in which she outdid herself, by the many different figures, light movements, and the surprising leaps and wonderful exertions with which she accompanied it. Sometimes she presented the poniard to one person's breast, sometimes to another's, and oftentimes seemed to strike her own. At last, as if she was out of breath, she snatched the tabor from Abdoollah with her left hand, and holding the dagger in her right, presented the other side of the tabor, after the manner of those who get a livelihood by dancing, and solicit the liberality of the spectators.

Ali Baba put a piece of gold into the tabor, as did also his son: and Khaujeh Houssain, seeing that she was coming to him, had pulled his purse out of his bosom to make her a present; but while he was putting his hand into it, Morgiana, with a courage and resolution worthy of herself, plunged the poniard into his heart. Ali Baba and his son, shocked at this action, cried out aloud. "Unhappy wretch!" exclaimed Ali Baba, "what have you done to ruin me and my family?" "It was to preserve, not to ruin you," answered Morgiana; "for see here," continued she (opening the pretended Khaujeh Houssain's garment, and showing the dagger), "what an enemy you had entertained! Look well at him, and you will find him to be both the fictitious oil-merchant, and the captain of the gang of forty robbers. Remember, too, that he would eat no salt with you; and what would you have more to persuade you of his wicked design? Before I saw him, I suspected him as soon as you told me you had such a guest. I knew him, and you now find that my suspicion was not groundless."

Ali Baba, who immediately felt the new obligation he had to Morgiana for saving his life a second time, embraced her: "Morgiana," said he, "I gave you your liberty, and then promised you that my gratitude should not stop there, but that I would soon give you higher proofs of its sincerity, which I now do by making you my daughter-in-law." Then addressing himself to his son, he said: "I believe you, son, to be so dutiful a child, that you will not refuse Morgiana for your wife. You see that Khaujeh Houssain sought your friendship with a treacherous design to take away my life; and, if he had succeeded, there is no doubt but he would have sacrificed you also to his revenge. Consider, that by marrying Morgiana you marry the preserver of my family and your own."

The son, far from showing any dislike, readily consented to the marriage; not only because he would not disobey his father, but also because it was agreeable to his inclination.

After this, they thought of burying the captain of the robbers with his comrades, and did it so privately that nobody discovered their bones till many years after, when no one had any concern in the publication of this remarkable history.

A few days afterward, Ali Baba celebrated the nuptials of his son and Morgiana with great solemnity, a sumptuous feast, and the usual dancing and spectacles; and had the satisfaction to see that his friends and neighbours, whom he invited, had no knowledge of the true motives of the marriage; but that those who were not unacquainted with Morgiana's good qualities commended his generosity and goodness of heart.

Ali Baba forbore, after this marriage, from going again to the robbers' cave, as he had done, for fear of being surprised, from the time he had brought away his brother Cassim's mangled remains. He had kept away after the death of the thirty-seven robbers and their captain, supposing the other two, whom he could get no account of, might be alive.

At the year's end, when he found that they had not made any attempt to disturb him, he had the curiosity to make another journey, taking the necessary precautions for his safety. He mounted his horse, and when he came to the cave, and saw no footsteps of men or beasts, looked upon it as a good sign. He alighted, tied his horse to a tree, then approaching the entrance and pronouncing the words, Open, Sesame! the door opened. He entered the cavern, and by the condition he found things in, judged that nobody had been there since the false Khaujeh Houssain, when he had fetched the goods for his shop; that the gang of forty robbers was completely destroyed, and no longer doubted that he was the only person in the world who had the secret of opening the cave, so that all the treasure was at his sole disposal. Having brought with him a wallet, he put into it as much gold as his horse would carry, and returned to town.

Afterward Ali Baba carried his son to the cave, and taught him the secret, which they handed down to their posterity, who, using their good fortune with moderation, lived in great honour and splendour.

---

THE HISTORY OF CODADAD AND HIS BROTHERS

There formerly reigned in the city of Harran a most magnificent and potent sultan, who loved his subjects, and was equally beloved by them. He was endued with all virtues, and wanted nothing to complete his happiness but an heir. He continually prayed to Heaven for a child; and one night in his sleep, a prophet appeared to him and said: "Your prayers are heard; you have obtained what you have desired; rise as soon as you awake, go to your prayers, and make two genuflexions; then walk into the garden of your palace, call your gardener, and bid him bring you a pomegranate; eat as many of the seeds as you please, and your wishes shall be accomplished."

The sultan calling to mind his dream when he awoke, returned thanks to Heaven, got up, prayed, made two genuflexions, and then went into his garden, where he took fifty pomegranate seeds, which he counted, and ate. Some time afterward forty-nine of his wives presented him with sons, each one as vigorous as a young palm-tree, but Pirouzè, the fiftieth wife, remained childless. The sultan, therefore, took an aversion to this lady and would have had her put to death had not his vizier prevented him, advising rather that she be sent to Samaria, to her brother, Sultan Samer, with orders that she be well treated.

Not long after Pirouzè had been retired to her brother's country, a most beautiful prince was born to her. The prince of Samaria wrote immediately to the sultan of Harran, to acquaint him with the birth of a son, and to congratulate him on the occasion. The sultan was much rejoiced at this intelligence, and answered Prince Samer as follows: "Cousin, all my other wives have each presented me with a prince. I desire you to educate the child of Pirouzè, to give him the name of Codadad, and to send him to me when I may apply for him."

The prince of Samaria spared nothing that might improve the education of his nephew. He taught him to ride, draw the bow, and all other accomplishments becoming the son of a sovereign; so that Codadad, at eighteen years of age, was looked upon as a prodigy. The young prince, being inspired with a courage worthy his birth, said one day to his mother: "Madam, I begin to grow weary of Samaria; I feel a passion for glory; give me leave to seek it amidst the perils of war. My father the sultan of Harran has many enemies. Why does he not call me to his assistance? Must I spend my life in sloth, when all my brothers have the happiness to be fighting by his side?" "My son," answered Pirouzè, "I am no less impatient to have your name become famous; I could wish you had already signalised yourself against your father's enemies; but we must wait till he requires it." "No, madam," replied Codadad, "I have already waited too long. I burn to see the sultan, and am tempted to offer him my service, as a young stranger: no doubt but he will accept of it, and I will not discover myself till I have performed some glorious actions." Pirouzè approved of his generous resolutions, and Codadad departed from Samaria, as if he had been going to the chase, without acquainting Prince Samer, lest he should thwart his design.

He was mounted on a white charger, who had a bit and shoes of gold, his housing was of blue satin embroidered with pearls; the hilt of his cimeter was of one single diamond, and the scabbard of sandalwood, adorned with emeralds and rubies, and on his shoulder he carried his bow and quiver. In this equipage, which greatly set off his handsome person, he arrived at the city of Harran, and soon found means to offer his service to the sultan; who being charmed with his beauty, and perhaps indeed by natural sympathy, gave him a favourable reception, and asked his name and quality. "Sir," answered Codadad, "I am son to an emir of Grand Cairo; an inclination to travel has made me quit my country, and understanding that you were engaged in war, I am come to your court to offer your majesty my service." The sultan, upon hearing this, shewed him extraordinary kindness, and gave him a command in his army.

The young prince soon gained the esteem of the officers, and was admired by the soldiers. Having no less wit than courage, he so far advanced himself in the sultan's esteem, as to become his favourite. All the ministers and other courtiers daily resorted to Codadad, and were so eager to purchase his friendship, that they neglected the sultan's sons. The princes could not but resent this conduct, and all conceived an implacable hatred against him; but the sultan's affection daily increasing, he was never weary of giving him fresh testimonies of his regard. He always would have him near his person; and to shew his high opinion of his wisdom and prudence, committed to his care the other princes, though he was of the same age as they; so that Codadad was made governor of his brothers.

This only served to heighten their hatred. "Is it come to this," said they, "that the sultan, not satisfied with loving a stranger more than us, will have him to be our governor, and not allow us to act without his leave? This is not to be endured. We must rid ourselves of this foreigner." "Let us go together," said one of them, "and despatch him." "No, no," answered another; "we had better be cautious how we sacrifice ourselves. His death would render us odious to the sultan. Let us destroy him by some stratagem. We will ask his permission to hunt, and, when at a distance from the palace, proceed to some other city and stay there some time. The sultan will wonder at our absence, and perceiving we do not return, perhaps put the stranger to death, or at least will banish him from court, for suffering us to leave the palace."

All the princes applauded this artifice. They went together to Codadad, and desired him to allow them to take the diversion of hunting, promising to return the same day. Pirouzè's son was taken in the snare, and granted the permission his brothers desired. They set out, but never returned. They had been three days absent, when the sultan asked Codadad where the princes were, for it was long since he had seen them. "Sir," answered Codadad, after making a profound reverence, "they have been hunting these three days, but they promised me they would return sooner." The sultan grew uneasy, and his uneasiness increased when he perceived the princes did not return the next day. He could not check his anger: "Indiscreet stranger," said he to Codadad, "why did you let my sons go without bearing them company? Go, seek them immediately, and bring them to me, or your life shall be forfeited."

These words chilled with alarm Pirouzè's unfortunate son. He armed himself, departed from the city, and like a shepherd who had lost his flock, searched the country for his brothers, inquiring at every village whether they had been seen; but hearing no news of them, abandoned himself to the most lively grief. He was inconsolable for having given the princes permission to hunt, or for not having borne them company.

After some days spent in fruitless search, he came to a plain of prodigious extent, in the midst whereof was a palace built of black marble. He drew near, and at one of the windows beheld a most beautiful lady; but set off with no other ornament than her own charms; for her hair was dishevelled, her garments torn, and on her countenance appeared all the marks of affliction. As soon as she saw Codadad, and judged he might hear her, she directed her discourse to him, saying: "Young man, depart from this fatal place, or you will soon fall into the hands of the monster that inhabits it: a black, who feeds only on human blood, resides in this palace; he seizes all persons whom their ill fate conducts to this plain, and shuts them up in his dungeons, whence they are never released, but to be devoured by him."

"Madam," answered Codadad, "tell me who you are, and be not concerned for myself." "I am a lady of quality of Grand Cairo," replied the captive; "I was passing by this castle yesterday, on my way to Bagdad, and met with the black, who killed all my attendants, and brought me hither. I beg of you," she cried, "to make your escape: the black will soon return; he is gone out to pursue some travellers he espied at a distance on the plain. Lose no time, but fly."

She had scarcely done speaking before the black appeared. He was of monstrous bulk, and of a dreadful aspect, mounted on a large Tartar horse, and bore a heavy cimeter, that none but himself could wield. The prince seeing him, was amazed at his gigantic stature, directed his prayers to Heaven to assist him, then drew his own cimeter, and firmly awaited his approach. The monster, despising so inconsiderable an enemy, called to him to submit without fighting. Codadad by his conduct shewed that he was resolved to defend his life; for rushing upon the black, he wounded him on the knee. The monster, feeling himself wounded, uttered such a dreadful yell as made all the plain resound. He grew furious and foamed with rage, and raising himself on his stirrups, made at Codadad with his dreadful cimeter. The blow was so violent, that it would have put an end to the young prince, had not he avoided it by a sudden spring. The cimeter made a horrible hissing in the air: but, before the black could have time to make a second blow, Codadad struck him on his right arm with such force that he cut it off. The dreadful cimeter fell with the hand that held it, and the black, yielding under the violence of the stroke, lost his stirrups, and made the earth shake with the weight of his fall. The prince alighted at the same time, and cut off his enemy's head. Just then the lady, who had been a spectator of the combat, and was still offering up her earnest prayers to Heaven for the young hero, uttered a shriek of joy, and said to Codadad: "Prince and Deliverer, finish the work you have begun; the black has the keys of this castle, take them and deliver me out of prison."

The prince searched the wretch as he lay stretched on the ground, and found several keys. He opened the first door, and entered a court, where he saw the lady coming to meet him; she would have cast herself at his feet, the better to express her gratitude, but he would not permit her. She commended his valour, and extolled him above all the heroes in the world. He returned her compliments; and she appeared still more lovely to him near, than she had done at a distance. I know not whether she felt more joy at being delivered from the desperate danger she had been in, than he for having done so considerable a service to so beautiful a person.

Their conversation was interrupted by dismal cries and groans. "What do I hear?" said Codadad; "whence come these miserable lamentations, which pierce my ears?" "My lord," said the lady, pointing to a little door in the court, "they come from thence. There are I know not how many wretched persons whom fate has thrown into the hands of the black. They are all chained, and the monster drew out one every day to devour."

"It is an addition to my joy," answered the young prince, "to understand that my victory will save the lives of those unfortunate beings. Come with me, madam, to partake in the satisfaction of giving them their liberty." Having so said, they advanced toward the door of the dungeon, where Codadad, pitying them, and impatient to put an end to their sufferings, presently put one of the keys into the lock. The noise made all the unfortunate captives, who concluded it was the black coming, according to custom, to seize one of them to devour, redouble their cries and groans.

In the meantime, the prince had opened the door; he went down a steep staircase into a deep vault, which received some feeble light from a little window, and in which there were above a hundred persons, bound to stakes. "Unfortunate travellers," said he to them, "who only expected the moment of an approaching death, give thanks to Heaven which has this day delivered you by my means. I have slain the black by whom you were to be devoured, and am come to knock off your chains." The prisoners hearing these words, gave a shout of mingled joy and surprise. Codadad and the lady began to unbind them; and as soon as any of them were loose, they helped to take off the fetters from the rest; so that in a short time they were all at liberty.

They then kneeled down, and having returned thanks to Codadad for what he had done for them, went out of the dungeon; but when they were come into the court, how was the prince surprised to see among the prisoners those he was in search of, and almost without hopes to find! "Princes," cried he, "is it you whom I behold? May I flatter myself that it is in my power to restore you to the sultan your father, who is inconsolable for the loss of you? Are you all here alive? Alas! the death of one of you will suffice to damp the joy I feel for having delivered you."

The forty-nine princes all made themselves known to Codadad, who embraced them one after another, and told them how uneasy their father was on account of their absence. They gave their deliverer all the commendations he deserved, as did the other prisoners, who could not find words expressive enough to declare their gratitude. Codadad, with them, searched the whole castle, where was immense wealth: curious silks, gold brocades, Persian carpets, China satins, and an infinite quantity of other goods, which the black had taken from the caravans he had plundered, a considerable part whereof belonged to the prisoners Codadad had then liberated. Every man knew and claimed his property. The prince restored them their own, and divided the rest of the merchandise among them. Then he said to them: "How will you carry away your goods? We are here in a desert place, and there is no likelihood of your getting horses." "My lord," answered one of the prisoners, "the black robbed us of our camels, as well as of our goods, and perhaps they may be in the stables of this castle." "That is not unlikely," replied Codadad; "let us examine." Accordingly they went to the stables, where they not only found the camels, but also the horses belonging to the sultan of Harran's sons. All the merchants, overjoyed that they had recovered their goods and camels, together with their liberty, thought of nothing but prosecuting their journey; but first repeated their thanks to their deliverer.

When they were gone, Codadad, directing his discourse to the lady, said: "What place, madam, do you desire to go to? I intend to bear you company to the spot you shall choose for your retreat, and I question not but that all these princes will do the same." The sultan of Harran's sons protested to the lady, that they would not leave her till she was restored to her friends.

"Princes," said she, "I am of a country too remote from here; and, besides that, it would be abusing your generosity to oblige you to travel so far. I must confess that I have left my native country for ever. I told you that I was a lady of Grand Cairo; but since you have shewn me so much favour, I should be much in the wrong in concealing the truth from you: I am a sultan's daughter. A usurper has possessed himself of my father's throne, after having murdered him, and I have been forced to fly to save my life."

Codadad and his brothers requested the princess to tell them her story, and after thanking them for their repeated protestations of readiness to serve her, she could not refuse to satisfy their curiosity, and began the recital of her adventures in the following manner.

"There was in a certain island," said the princess, "a great city called Deryabar, governed by a magnificent and virtuous sultan, who had no children, which was the only blessing wanting to make him happy. He continually addressed his prayers to Heaven, but Heaven only partially granted his requests, for the queen his wife, after a long expectation, brought forth a daughter.

"I am that unfortunate princess; my father was rather grieved than pleased at my birth; but he submitted to the will of God, and caused me to be educated with all possible care, being resolved, since he had no son, to teach me the art of ruling, that I might supply his place after his death.

"There was, at the court of Deryabar, an orphan youth of good birth whom the sultan, my father, had befriended and educated according to his rank. He was very handsome, and, not wanting ability, found means to please my father, who conceived a great friendship for him. All the courtiers perceived it, and guessed that the young man might in the end be my husband. In this idea, and looking on him already as heir to the crown, they made their court to him, and every one endeavoured to gain his favour. He soon saw into their designs, and forgetting the distance there was between our conditions, flattered himself with the hopes that my father was fond enough of him to prefer him before all the princes in the world. He went farther; for the sultan not offering me to him as soon as he could have wished, he had the boldness to ask me of him. Whatever punishment his insolence deserved, my father was satisfied with telling him he had other thoughts in relation to me. The youth was incensed at this refusal; he resented the contempt, as if he had asked some maid of ordinary extraction, or as if his birth had been equal to mine. Nor did he stop here, but resolved to be revenged on the sultan, and with unparalleled ingratitude conspired against him. In short, he murdered him, and caused himself to be proclaimed sovereign of Deryabar. The grand vizier, however, while the usurper was butchering my father came to carry me away from the palace, and secured me in a friend's house, till a vessel he had provided was ready to sail. I then left the island, attended only by a governess and that generous minister, who chose rather to follow his master's daughter than to submit to a tyrant.

"The grand vizier designed to carry me to the courts of the neighbouring sultans, to implore their assistance, and excite them to revenge my father's death; but Heaven did not concur in a resolution we thought so just. When we had been but a few days at sea, there arose such a furious storm, that our vessel, carried away by the violence of the winds and waves, was dashed in pieces against a rock. My governess, the grand vizier, and all that attended me, were swallowed up by the sea. I lost my senses; and whether I was thrown upon the coast, or whether Heaven wrought a miracle for my deliverance, I found myself on shore when my senses returned.

"In my despair and horror I was on the point of casting myself into the sea again; when I heard behind me a great noise of men and horses. I looked about to see what it might be, and espied several armed horsemen, among whom was one mounted on an Arabian charger. He had on a garment embroidered with silver, a girdle set with precious stones, and a crown of gold on his head. Though his habit had not convinced me that he was chief of the company, I should have judged it by the air of grandeur which appeared in his person. He was a young man extraordinarily well shaped, and perfectly beautiful. Surprised to see a young lady alone in that place, he sent some of his officers to ask who I was. I answered only by weeping. The shore being covered with the wreck of our ship, they concluded that I was certainly some person who had escaped from the vessel. This conjecture excited the curiosity of the officers, who began to ask me a thousand questions, with assurances that their master was a generous prince, and that I should receive protection at his court.

"The sultan, impatient to know who I was, grew weary of waiting the return of his officers, and drew near to me. He gazed on me very earnestly, and observing that I did not cease weeping, without being able to return an answer to their questions, he forbade them troubling me any more; and directing his discourse to me: 'Madam,' said he, 'I conjure you to moderate your excessive affliction. I dare assure you that, if your misfortunes are capable of receiving any relief, you shall find it in my dominions. You shall live with the queen my mother, who will endeavour by her kindness to ease your affliction. I know not yet who you are, but I find I already take an interest in your welfare.'

"I thanked the young sultan for his goodness to me, accepted his obliging offer; and to convince him that I was not unworthy of them, told him my condition. When I had done speaking, the prince assured me that he was deeply concerned at my misfortunes. He then conducted me to his palace, and presented me to the queen his mother, to whom I was obliged again to repeat my misfortunes. The queen seemed very sensible of my trouble, and conceived extreme affection for me. On the other hand, the sultan her son fell desperately in love with me, and soon offered me his hand and his crown. I was so taken up with the thoughts of my calamities, that the prince, though so lovely a person, did not make so great an impression on me as he might have done at another time. However, gratitude prevailing, I did not refuse to make him happy, and our nuptials were concluded with all imaginable splendour.

"While the people were taken up with the celebration of their sovereign's nuptials, a neighbouring prince, his enemy, made a descent by night on the island with a great number of troops and surprised and cut to pieces my husband's subjects. We escaped very narrowly, for he had already entered the palace with some of his followers; but we found means to slip away and to get to the sea-coast, where we threw ourselves into a fishing-boat which we had the good fortune to meet with. Two days we were driven about by the winds, without knowing what would become of us. The third day we espied a vessel making toward us under sail. We rejoiced at first, believing it had been a merchant-ship which might take us aboard; but what was our consternation, when, as it drew near, we saw ten or twelve armed pirates appear on the deck. Having boarded, five or six of them leaped into our boat, seized us, bound the prince, and conveyed us into their ship, where they immediately took off my veil. My youth and features touched them, and they all declared how much they were charmed at the sight of me. Instead of casting lots, each of them claimed the preference, and me as his right. The dispute grew warm, they came to blows, and fought like madmen. The deck was soon covered with dead bodies, and they were all killed but one, who, being left sole possessor of me, said: 'You are mine. I will carry you to Grand Cairo, to deliver you to a friend of mine, to whom I have promised a beautiful slave. But who,' added he, looking upon the sultan, my husband, 'is that man? What relation does he bear to you? Are you allied by blood or love?' 'Sir,' answered I, 'he is my husband.' 'If so,' replied the pirate, 'in pity I must rid myself of him: it would be too great an affliction to him to see you disposed of to another.' Having spoken these words, he took up the unhappy prince, who was bound, and threw him into the sea, notwithstanding all my endeavours to prevent him.

"I shrieked in a dreadful manner at the sight of what he had done, and had certainly cast myself into the sea also, but that the pirate held me. He saw my design, and therefore bound me with cords to the main-mast, then hoisting sail, made toward the land, and got ashore. He unbound me and led me to a little town, where he bought camels, tents, and slaves, and then set out for Grand Cairo, designing, as he still said, to present me to his friend, according to his promise.

"We had been several days upon the road, when, as we were crossing this plain yesterday, we descried the black who inhabited this castle. At a distance we took him for a tower, and when near us, could scarcely believe him to be a man. He drew his huge cimeter, and summoned the pirate to yield himself prisoner, with all his slaves and the lady he was conducting. You know the end of this dreadful adventure and can foresee what would have been my fate had you, generous prince, not come to my deliverance."

As it drew near we saw ten or twelve armed pirates appear on the deck.

As soon as the princess had finished the recital of her adventures, Codadad declared to her that he was deeply concerned at her misfortunes. "But, madam," added he, "it shall be your own fault if you do not live at ease for the future. The sultan of Harran's sons offer you a safe retreat in the court of their father; be pleased to accept of it, and if you do not disdain the affection of your deliverer, permit me to assure you of it, and to espouse you before all these princes; let them be witnesses to our contract." The princess consented, and the marriage was concluded that very day in the castle, where they found all sorts of provisions, with an abundance of delicious wine and other liquors.

They all sat down at table; and after having eaten and drunk plentifully, took with them the rest of the provisions, and set out for the sultan of Harran's court. They travelled several days, encamping in the pleasantest places they could find, and were within one day's journey of Harran, when Codadad, directing his discourse to all his company, said: "Princes, I have too long concealed from you who I am. Behold your brother Codadad! I, as well as you, received my being from the sultan of Harran, the prince of Samaria brought me up, and the Princess Pirouzè is my mother. Madam," added he, addressing himself to the princess of Deryabar, "do you also forgive me for having concealed my birth from you? Perhaps, by discovering it sooner, I might have prevented some disagreeable reflections, which may have been occasioned by a match you may have thought unequal." "No, sir," answered the princess "the opinion I at first conceived of you heightened every moment and you did not stand in need of the extraction you now discover to make me happy."

The princes congratulated Codadad on his birth, and expressed much satisfaction at being made acquainted with it. But in reality, instead of rejoicing, their hatred of so amiable a brother was increased. They met together at night, and forgetting that had it not been for the brave son of Pirouzè they must have been devoured by the black, agreed among themselves to murder him. "We have no other course to choose," said one of them, "for the moment our father shall come to understand that this stranger, of whom he is already so fond, is our brother, he will declare him his heir, and we shall all be obliged to obey and fall down before him." He added much more, which made such an impression on their unnatural minds, that they immediately repaired to Codadad, then asleep, stabbed him repeatedly, and leaving him for dead in the arms of the princess of Deryabar, proceeded on their journey to the city of Harran, where they arrived the next day.

The sultan their father conceived the greater joy at their return, because he had despaired of ever seeing them again: he asked what had been the occasion of their stay. But they took care not to acquaint him with it, making no mention either of the black or of Codadad; and only said, that being curious to see different countries, they had spent some time in the neighbouring cities.

In the meantime Codadad lay in his tent weltering in his blood and little differing from a dead man, with the princess his wife, who seemed to be in not much better condition than himself. She rent the air with her dismal shrieks, tore her hair, and bathing her husband's body with her tears, "Alas! Codadad, my dear Codadad," cried she, "is it you whom I behold just departing this life? Can I believe these are your brothers who have treated you so unmercifully, those brothers whom thy valour had saved? O Heaven! which has condemned me to lead a life of calamities, if you will not permit me to have a consort, why did you permit me to find one? Behold, you have now robbed me of two, just as I began to be attached to them."

By these and other moving expressions the afflicted princess of Deryabar vented her sorrow, fixing her eyes on the unfortunate Codadad, who could not hear her; but he was not dead, and his consort, observing that he still breathed, ran to a large town she espied in the plain, to inquire for a surgeon. She was directed to one, who went immediately with her; but when they came to the tent, they could not find Codadad, which made them conclude he had been dragged away by some wild beast to be devoured. The princess renewed her complaints and lamentations in a most affecting manner. The surgeon was moved, and being unwilling to leave her in so distressed a condition, proposed to her to return to the town, offering her his house and service.

She suffered herself to be prevailed upon. The surgeon conducted her to his house, and without knowing, as yet, who she was, treated her with all imaginable courtesy and respect. He used all his endeavours to comfort her, but it was vain to think of removing her sorrow. "Madam," said he to her one day, "be pleased to recount to me your misfortunes; tell me your country and your condition. Perhaps I may give you some good advice, when I am acquainted with all the circumstances of your calamity."

The surgeon's words were so efficacious, that they wrought on the princess, who recounted to him all her adventures; and when she had done, the surgeon directed his discourse to her: "Madam," said he, "you ought not thus to give way to your sorrow; you ought rather to arm yourself with resolution, and perform what the duty of a wife requires of you. You are bound to avenge your husband. If you please, I will wait on you as your attendant. Let us go to the sultan of Harran's court; he is a good and a just prince. You need only represent to him in lively colours, how Prince Codadad has been treated by his brothers. I am persuaded he will do you justice." "I submit to your reasoning," answered the princess; "it is my duty to endeavour to avenge Codadad; and since you are so generous as to offer to attend me, I am ready to set out." No sooner had she fixed this resolution, than the surgeon ordered two camels to be made ready, on which the princess and he mounted, and repaired to Harran.

They alighted at the first caravanserai they found, and inquired of the host the news at court. "Deryabar," said he, "is in very great perplexity. The sultan had a son, who lived long with him as a stranger, and none can tell what is become of the young prince. One of the sultan's wives, named Pirouzè, is his mother; she has made all possible inquiry, but to no purpose. The sultan has forty-nine other sons, all by different mothers, but not one of them has virtue enough to comfort him for the death of Codadad; I say, his death, because it is impossible he should be still alive, since no intelligence has been heard of him, notwithstanding so much search has been made."

The surgeon, having heard this account from the host, concluded that the best course the princess of Deryabar could take was to wait upon Pirouzè; but that step required much precaution: for it was to be feared that if the sultan of Harran's sons should happen to hear of the arrival of their sister-in-law and her design, they might cause her to be conveyed away before she could discover herself. The surgeon weighed all these circumstances, and therefore, that he might manage matters with discretion, desired the princess to remain in the caravanserai, whilst he repaired to the palace, to observe which might be the safest way to conduct her to Pirouzè.

He went accordingly into the city, and was walking toward the palace, when he beheld a lady mounted on a mule richly accoutred. She was followed by several ladies mounted also on mules, with a great number of guards and black slaves. All the people formed a lane to see her pass along, and saluted her by prostrating themselves on the ground. The surgeon paid her the same respect, and then asked a calendar, who happened to stand by him, whether that lady was one of the sultan's wives. "Yes, brother," answered the calendar, "she is, and the most honoured and beloved by the people, because she is the mother of Prince Codadad, of whom you must have heard."

The surgeon asked no more questions, but followed Pirouzè to a mosque, into which she went to distribute alms, and assist at the public prayers which the sultan had ordered to be offered up for the safe return of Codadad. The surgeon broke through the throng and advanced to Pirouzè's guards. He waited the conclusion of the prayers, and when the princess went out, stepped up to one of her slaves, and whispered him in the ear: "Brother, I have a secret of moment to impart to the Princess Pirouzè: may not I be introduced into her apartment?" "If that secret," answered the slave, "relates to Prince Codadad I dare promise you shall have audience of her; but if it concern not him, it is needless for you to be introduced; for her thoughts are all engrossed by her son." "It is only about that dear son," replied the surgeon, "that I wish to speak to her." "If so," said the slave, "you need but follow us to the palace, and you shall soon have the opportunity."

Accordingly, as soon as Pirouzè was returned to her apartment, the slave acquainted her that a person unknown had some important information to communicate to her, and that it related to Prince Codadad. No sooner had he uttered these words, than Pirouzè expressed her impatience to see the stranger. The slave immediately conducted him into the princess's closet who ordered all her women to withdraw, except two, from whom she concealed nothing. As soon as she saw the surgeon, she asked him eagerly what news he had to tell her of Codadad. "Madam," answered the surgeon, after having prostrated himself on the ground, "I have a long account to give you, and such as will surprise you." He then related all the particulars of what had passed between Codadad and his brothers, which she listened to with eager attention; but when he came to speak of the murder, the tender mother fainted away on her sofa, as if she had herself been stabbed like her son. Her two women soon brought her to herself and the surgeon continued his relation; and when he had concluded, Pirouzè said to him: "Go back to the princess of Deryabar, and assure her from me that the sultan shall soon own her for his daughter-in-law; and as for yourself, your services shall be rewarded as liberally as they deserve."

When the surgeon was gone, Pirouzè remained on the sofa in such a state of affliction as may easily be imagined; and yielding to her tenderness at the recollection of Codadad, "O my son!" said she, "I must never then expect to see you more! Unfortunate Codadad, why did you leave me?" While she uttered these words, she wept bitterly, and her two attendants, moved by her grief, mingled their tears with hers.

Whilst they were all three in this manner vying in affliction, the sultan came into the closet, and seeing them in this condition, asked Pirouzè whether she had received any bad news concerning Codadad. "Alas! sir," said she, "all is over, my son has lost his life, and to add to my sorrow, I cannot pay him the funeral rites; for, in all probability, wild beasts have devoured him." She then told him all she had heard from the surgeon, and did not fail to enlarge on the inhuman manner in which Codadad had been murdered by his brothers.

The sultan did not give Pirouzè time to finish her relation, but transported with anger, and giving way to his passion, "Madam," said he to the princess, "those perfidious wretches who cause you to shed these tears, and are the occasion of mortal grief to their father, shall soon feel the punishment due to their guilt." The sultan, having spoken these words, with indignation in his countenance, went directly to the presence-chamber, where all his courtiers attended, and such of the people as had petitions to present to him. They were alarmed to see him in passion, and thought his anger had been kindled against them. He ascended the throne, and causing his grand vizier to approach, "Hassan," said he, "go immediately, take a thousand of my guards, and seize all the princes, my sons; shut them up in the tower used as a prison for murderers, and let this be done in a moment." All who were present trembled at this extraordinary command; and the grand vizier, without uttering a word, laid his hand on his head, to express his obedience, and hastened from the hall to execute his orders. In the meantime the sultan dismissed those who attended for audience, and declared he would not hear of any business for a month to come. He was still in the hall when the vizier returned. "Are all my sons," demanded he, "in the tower?" "They are, sir," answered the vizier; "I have obeyed your orders." "This is not all," replied the sultan, "I have farther commands for you:" and so saying he went out of the hall of audience, and returned to Pirouzè's apartment, the vizier following him. He asked the princess where Codadad's widow had taken up her lodging. Pirouzè's women told him, for the surgeon had not forgotten that in his relation. The sultan then turning to his minister, "Go," said he, "to this caravanserai, and conduct a young princess who lodges there, with all the respect due to her quality, to my palace."

The vizier was not long in performing what he was ordered. He mounted on horseback with all the emirs and courtiers, and repaired to the caravanserai, where the princess of Deryabar was lodged, whom he acquainted with his orders; and presented her, from the sultan, with a fine white mule, whose saddle and bridle were adorned with gold, rubies, and diamonds. She mounted, and proceeded to the palace. The surgeon attended her, mounted on a beautiful Tartar horse which the vizier had provided for him. All the people were at their windows, or in the streets, to see the cavalcade; and it being given out that the princess, whom they conducted in such state to court, was Codadad's wife, the city resounded with acclamations, the air rung with shouts of joy, which would have been turned into lamentations had that prince's fatal adventure been known, so much was he beloved by all.

The princess of Deryabar found the sultan at the palace gate waiting to receive her: he took her by the hand and led her to Pirouzè's apartment, where a very moving scene took place. Codadad's wife found her affliction redouble at the sight of her husband's father and mother; as, on the other hand, those parents could not look on their son's wife without being much affected. She cast herself at the sultan's feet, and having bathed them with tears, was so overcome with grief that she was not able to speak. Pirouzè was in no better state, and the sultan, moved by these affecting objects, gave way to his own feelings and wept. At length the princess of Deryabar, being somewhat recovered, recounted the adventure of the castle and Codadad's disaster. Then she demanded justice for the treachery of the princes. "Yes, madam," said the sultan, "those ungrateful wretches shall perish; but Codadad's death must be first made public, that the punishment of his brothers may not cause my subjects to rebel; and though we have not my son's body, we will not omit paying him the last duties." This said, he directed his discourse to the vizier, and ordered him to cause to be erected a dome of white marble, in a delightful plain, in the midst of which the city of Harran stands. Then he appointed the princess of Deryabar a suitable apartment in his palace, acknowledging her for his daughter-in-law.

Hassan caused the work to be carried on with such diligence, and employed so many workmen, that the dome was soon finished. Within it was erected a tomb, which was covered with gold brocade. When all was completed, the sultan ordered prayers to be said, and appointed a day for the obsequies of his son.

On that day all the inhabitants of the city went out upon the plain to see the ceremony performed. The gate of the dome was then closed, and all the people returned to the city. Next day there were public prayers in all the mosques, and the same was continued for eight days successively. On the ninth the king resolved to cause the princes his sons to be beheaded. The people, incensed at their cruelty toward Codadad, impatiently expected to see them executed. The scaffolds were erecting, but the execution was respited, because, on a sudden, intelligence was brought that the neighbouring princes who had before made war on the sultan of Harran, were advancing with more numerous forces than on the first invasion, and were then not far from the city. This news gave new cause to lament the loss of Codadad, who had signalised himself in the former war against the same enemies. The sultan, nothing dismayed, formed a considerable army, and being too brave to await the enemies' attack within his walls, marched out to meet them. They, on their side, being informed that the sultan of Harran was marching to engage them, halted in the plain, and formed their army.

As soon as the sultan discovered them, he also drew up his forces, and ranged them in order of battle. The signal was given, and he attacked them with extraordinary vigour; nor was the opposition inferior. Much blood was shed on both sides, and the victory long remained dubious; but at length it seemed to incline to the sultan of Harran's enemies, who, being more numerous, were upon the point of surrounding him, when a great body of cavalry appeared on the plain, and approached the two armies. The sight of this fresh party daunted both sides, neither knowing what to think of them; but their doubts were soon cleared; for they fell upon the flank of the sultan of Harran's enemies with such a furious charge, that they soon broke and routed them. Nor did they stop here; they pursued them, and cut most of them in pieces.

The sultan of Harran, who had attentively observed all that passed, admired the bravery of this strange body of cavalry, whose unexpected arrival had given the victory to his army. But, above all, he was charmed with their chief, whom he had seen fighting with a more than ordinary valour. He longed to know the name of the generous hero. Impatient to see and thank him, he advanced toward him, but perceived he was coming to prevent him. The two princes drew near, and the sultan of Harran, discovering Codadad in the brave warrior who had just defeated his enemies, became motionless with joy and surprise. "Father," said Codadad to him, "you have sufficient cause to be astonished at the sudden appearance of a man whom perhaps you concluded to be dead. I should have been so, had not Heaven preserved me still to serve you against your enemies." "O my son," cried the sultan, "is it possible that you are restored to me? Alas! I despaired of seeing you more." So saying, he stretched out his arms to the young prince, who flew to such a tender embrace.

"I know all, my son," said the sultan again, after having long held him in his arms. "I know what return your brothers have made you for delivering them out of the hands of the black; but you shall be revenged to-morrow. Let us now go to the palace where your mother, who has shed so many tears on your account, expects to rejoice with us on the defeat of our enemies. What a joy will it be to her to be informed that my victory is your work!" "Sir," said Codadad, "give me leave to ask how you could know the adventure of the castle? Have any of my brothers, repenting, owned it to you?" "No," answered the sultan; "the princess of Deryabar has given us an account of everything, for she is in my palace, and came thither to demand justice against your brothers." Codadad was transported with joy, to learn that the princess his wife was at the court. "Let us go, sir," cried he to his father in rapture, "let us go to my mother, who waits for us. I am impatient to dry her tears, as well as those of the princess of Deryabar."

The sultan immediately returned to the city with his army, and re-entered his palace victorious, amidst the acclamations of the people, who followed him in crowds, praying to Heaven to prolong his life, and extolling Codadad to the skies. They found Pirouzè and her daughter-in-law waiting to congratulate the sultan; but words cannot express the transports of joy they felt when they saw the young prince with him: their embraces were mingled with tears of a very different kind from those they had before shed for him. When they had sufficiently yielded to all the emotions that the ties of blood and love inspired, they asked Codadad by what miracle he came to be still alive.

He answered that a peasant mounted on a mule happening accidentally to come into the tent where he lay senseless, and perceiving him alone and stabbed in several places, had made him fast on his mule, and carried him to his house, where he applied to his wounds certain herbs, which recovered him. "When I found myself well," added he, "I returned thanks to the peasant, and gave him all the diamonds I had. I then made for the city of Harran; but being informed by the way that some neighbouring princes had gathered forces, and were on their march against the sultan's subjects, I made myself known to the villagers, and stirred them up to undertake his defence. I armed a great number of young men, and heading them, happened to arrive at the time when the two armies were engaged."

When he had done speaking, the sultan said: "Let us return thanks to God for having preserved Codadad; but it is requisite that the traitors who would have destroyed him should perish." "Sir," answered the generous prince, "though they are wicked and ungrateful, consider they are your own flesh and blood: they are my brothers; I forgive their offence, and beg you to pardon them." This generosity drew tears from the sultan, who caused the people to be assembled, and declared Codadad his heir. He then ordered the princes, who were prisoners, to be brought out loaded with irons. Pirouzè's son struck off their chains, and embraced them all successively with as much sincerity and affection as he had done in the black's castle. The people were charmed with Codadad's generosity, and loaded him with applause. The surgeon was next nobly rewarded in requital of the services he had done the princess of Deryabar and the court of Harran remained thereafter in perfect joy and felicity.

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THE STORY OF SINBAD THE VOYAGER

In the reign of the Caliph Haroun-al-Raschid, there lived at Bagdad a poor porter called Hindbad. One day, when the weather was excessively hot, he was employed to carry a heavy burden from one end of the town to the other. Having still a great way to go, he came into a street where a refreshing breeze blew on his face, and the pavement was sprinkled with rose water. As he could not desire a better place to rest, he took off his load, and sat upon it, near a large mansion.

He was much pleased that he stopped in this place; for the agreeable smell of wood of aloes, and of pastils, that came from the house, mixing with the scent of the rose-water, completely perfumed the air. Besides, he heard from within a concert of instrumental music, accompanied with the harmonious notes of nightingales. This charming melody, and the smell of savoury dishes, made the porter conclude there was a feast within. His business seldom leading him that way, he knew not to whom the mansion belonged; but to satisfy his curiosity he went to some of the servants, whom he saw standing at the gate in magnificent apparel, and asked the name of the proprietor. "How," replied one of them, "do you live in Bagdad, and know not that this is the house of Sinbad the sailor, that famous voyager, who has sailed round the world?" The porter, who had heard of this Sinbad's riches, lifted up his eyes to Heaven, and said, loud enough to be heard: "Almighty creator of all things, consider the difference between Sinbad and me! I am every day exposed to fatigues and calamities, and can scarcely get barley-bread for myself and my family, whilst happy Sinbad expends immense riches and leads a life of pleasure. What has he done to obtain a lot so agreeable? And what have I done to deserve one so wretched?"

Whilst the porter was thus indulging his melancholy, a servant came out of the house, and taking him by the arm, bade him follow him, for Sinbad, his master, wanted to speak to him.

The servants brought him into a great hall, where a number of people sat round a table, covered with all sorts of savoury dishes. At the upper end sat a venerable gentleman, with a long white beard, and behind him stood a number of officers and domestics, all ready to attend his pleasure. This personage was Sinbad. The porter, whose fear was increased at the sight of so many people, and of a banquet so sumptuous, saluted the company trembling. Sinbad bade him draw near, and seating him at his right hand, served him himself, and gave him a cup of excellent wine.

When the repast was over, Sinbad addressed his conversation to Hindbad, and inquired his name and employment. "My lord," answered he, "my name is Hindbad." "I am very glad to see you," replied Sinbad; "but I wish to hear from your own mouth what it was you lately said in the street." Sinbad had himself heard the porter complain through the window, and this it was that induced him to have him brought in.

At this request, Hindbad hung down his head in confusion, and replied: "My lord, I confess that my fatigue put me out of humour, and occasioned me to utter some indiscreet words, which I beg you to pardon." "Do not think I am so unjust," resumed Sinbad, "as to resent such a complaint, but I must rectify your error concerning myself. You think, no doubt, that I have acquired, without labour and trouble, the ease which I now enjoy. But do not mistake; I did not attain to this happy condition, without enduring for several years more trouble of body and mind than can well be imagined. Yes, gentlemen," he added, speaking to the whole company, "I can assure you my troubles were so extraordinary, that they were calculated to discourage the most covetous from undertaking such voyages as I did, to acquire riches. Perhaps you have never heard a distinct account of my wonderful adventures; and since I have this opportunity, I will give you a faithful account of them, not doubting but it will be acceptable."

THE FIRST VOYAGE

"I inherited from my father considerable property, the greater part of which I squandered in my youth in dissipation; but I perceived my error, and reflected that riches were perishable, and quickly consumed by such ill managers as myself, I further considered, that by my irregular way of living I wretchedly misspent my time; which is, of all things, the most valuable. Struck with these reflections, I collected the remains of my fortune, and sold all my effects by public auction. I then entered into a contract with some merchants, who traded by sea. I took the advice of such as I thought most capable, and resolving to improve what money I had, I embarked with several merchants on board a ship which we had jointly fitted out.

"We set sail, and steered our course toward the Indies through the Persian Gulf, which is formed by the coasts of Arabia Felix on the right, and by those of Persia on the left. At first I was troubled with sea-sickness, but speedily recovered my health, and was not afterward subject to that complaint.

"In our voyage we touched at several islands, where we sold or exchanged our goods. One day, whilst under sail, we were becalmed near a small island, but little elevated above the level of the water, and resembling a green meadow. The captain ordered his sails to be furled, and permitted such persons as were so inclined to land; of which number I was one.

"But while we were enjoying ourselves in eating and drinking, and recovering ourselves from the fatigue of the sea, the island on a sudden trembled, and shook us terribly.

"The motion was perceived on board the ship, and we were called upon to re-embark speedily, or we should all be lost; for what we took for an island proved to be the back of a sea monster. The nimblest got into the sloop, others betook themselves to swimming; but for myself, I was still upon the back of the creature when he dived into the sea, and I had time only to catch hold of a piece of wood that we had brought out of the ship. Meanwhile, the captain, having received those on board who were in the sloop, and taken up some of those that swam, resolved to improve the favourable gale that had just risen, and hoisting his sails, pursued his voyage, so that it was impossible for me to recover the ship.

"Thus was I exposed to the mercy of the waves all the rest of the day and the following night. By this time I found my strength gone, and despaired of saving my life, when happily a wave threw me against an island. The bank was high and rugged; so that I could scarcely have got up, had it not been for some roots of trees, which chance placed within reach. Having gained the land, I lay down upon the ground half dead, until the sun appeared. Then, though I was very feeble, both from hard labour and want of food, I crept along to find some herbs fit to eat, and had the good luck not only to procure some, but likewise to discover a spring of excellent water, which contributed much to recover me. After this I advanced farther into the island, and at last reached a fine plain, where at a great distance I perceived some horses feeding. I went toward them, and as I approached heard the voice of a man, who immediately appeared, and asked me who I was. I related to him my adventure, after which, taking me by the hand, he led me into a cave, where there were several other people, no less amazed to see me than I was to see them.

"I partook of some provisions which they offered me. I then asked them what they did in such a desert place, to which they answered, that they were grooms belonging to the Maha-raja, sovereign of the island, and that every year, at the same season they brought thither the king's horses for pasturage. They added, that they were to return home on the morrow, and had I been one day later, I must have perished, because the inhabited part of the island was at a great distance, and it would have been impossible for me to have got thither without a guide.

"Next morning they returned to the capital of the island, took me with them, and presented me to the Maha-raja. He asked me who I was, and by what adventure I had come into his dominions. After I had satisfied him, he told me he was much concerned for my misfortune, and at the same time ordered that I should want nothing; which commands his officers were so generous as to see exactly fulfilled.

"Being a merchant, I frequented men of my own profession, and particularly inquired for those who were strangers, that perchance I might hear news from Bagdad, or find an opportunity to return. They put a thousand questions respecting my country; and I, being willing to inform myself as to their laws and customs, asked them concerning everything which I thought worth knowing.

"There belongs to this king an island named Cassel. They assured me that every night a noise of drums was heard there, whence the mariners fancied that it was the residence of Degial. I determined to visit this wonderful place, and in my way thither saw fishes of one hundred and two hundred cubits long, that occasion more fear than hurt, for they are so timorous, that they will fly upon the rattling of two sticks or boards. I saw likewise other fish about a cubit in length, that had heads like owls.

"As I was one day at the port after my return, a ship arrived, and as soon as she cast anchor, they began to unload her, and the merchants on board ordered their goods to be carried into the custom-house. As I cast my eye upon some bales, and looked to the name, I found my own, and perceived the bales to be the same that I had embarked at Bussorah. I also knew the captain; but being persuaded that he believed me to be drowned, I went, and asked him whose bales these were. He replied that they belonged to a merchant of Bagdad, called Sinbad, who came to sea with him; but had unfortunately perished on the voyage, and that he had resolved to trade with the bales, until he met with some of his family, to whom he might return the profit. 'I am that Sinbad,' said I, 'whom you thought to be dead, and those bales are mine.'

"When the captain heard me speak thus, 'Heavens!' he exclaimed, 'whom can we trust in these times? There is no faith left among men. I saw Sinbad perish with my own eyes, as did also the passengers on board, and yet you tell me you are that Sinbad. What impudence is this? You tell a horrible falsehood, in order to possess yourself of what does not belong to you.' 'Have patience,' replied I; 'do me the favour to hear what I have to say.' Then I told him how I had escaped, and by what adventure I met with the grooms of the Maha-raja, who had brought me to his court.

"The captain was at length persuaded that I was no cheat; for there came people from his ship who knew me, and expressed much joy at seeing me alive. At last he recollected me himself, and embracing me, 'Heaven be praised,' said he, 'for your happy escape. I cannot express the joy it affords me; there are your goods, take and do with them as you please.' I thanked him, acknowledged his probity, and offered him part of my goods as a present, which he generously refused.

"I took out what was most valuable in my bales, and presented them to the Maha-raja, who, knowing my misfortune, asked me how I came by such rarities. I acquainted him with the circumstance of their recovery. He was pleased at my good luck, accepted my present, and in return gave me one much more considerable. Upon this, I took leave of him, and went aboard the same ship, after I had exchanged my goods for the commodities of that country. I carried with me wood of aloes, sandal, camphire, nutmegs, cloves, pepper, and ginger. We passed by several islands, and at last arrived at Bussorah, from whence I came to this city, with the value of one hundred thousand sequins. My family and I received one another with sincere affection. I bought slaves and a landed estate, and built a magnificent house. Thus I settled myself, resolving to forget the miseries I had suffered, and to enjoy the pleasures of life."

Sinbad stopped here, and ordered the musicians to proceed with their concert, which the story had interrupted. The company continued enjoying themselves till the evening, when Sinbad sent for a purse of a hundred sequins, and giving it to the porter, said: "Take this, Hindbad, return to your home, and come back to-morrow to hear more of my adventures." The porter went away, astonished at the honour done, and the present made him. The account of this adventure proved very agreeable to his wife and children, who did not fail to return thanks to God for what providence had sent them by the hand of Sinbad.

Hindbad put on his best apparel next day, and returned to the bountiful traveller, who welcomed him heartily. When all the guests had arrived, dinner was served. When it was ended, Sinbad, addressing himself to the company, said, "Gentlemen, be pleased to listen to the adventures of my second voyage; they deserve your attention even more than those of the first." Upon this every one held his peace, and Sinbad proceeded.

THE SECOND VOYAGE

"I designed, after my first voyage, to spend the rest of my days at Bagdad, but it was not long ere I grew weary of an indolent life. My inclination to trade revived. I bought goods proper for the commerce I intended, and put to sea a second time with merchants of known probity. We embarked on board a good ship, and after recommending ourselves to God, set sail. We traded from island to island, and exchanged commodities with great profit. One day we landed on an island covered with several sorts of fruit-trees, but we could see neither man nor animal. We went to take a little fresh air in the meadows, along the streams that watered them. Whilst some diverted themselves with gathering flowers, and others fruits, I took my wine and provisions, and sat down near a stream betwixt two high trees which formed a thick shade. I made a good meal, and afterward fell asleep. I cannot tell how long I slept, but when I awoke the ship was gone.

"I got up and looked around me, but could not see one of the merchants who landed with me. I perceived the ship under sail, but at such a distance, that I lost sight of her in a short time.

"In this sad condition, I was ready to die with grief. I cried out in agony, and threw myself upon the ground, where I lay some time in despair. I upbraided myself a hundred times for not being content with the produce of my first voyage, that might have sufficed me all my life. But all this was in vain, and my repentance came too late.

"At last I resigned myself to the will of God. Not knowing what to do, I climbed up to the top of a lofty tree, from whence I looked about on all sides, to see if I could discover anything that could give me hopes. When I gazed toward the sea I could see nothing but sky and water; but looking over the land I beheld something white; and coming down, I took what provision I had left, and went toward it, the distance being so great that I could not distinguish what it was.

"As I approached, I thought it to be a white dome, of a prodigious height and extent; and when I came up to it, I touched it, and found it to be very smooth. I went round to see if it was open on any side, but saw that it was not, and that there was no climbing up to the top, as it was so smooth. It was at least fifty paces round.

"By this time the sun was about to set, and all of a sudden the sky became as dark as if it had been covered with a thick cloud. I was much astonished at this sudden darkness, but much more when I found it occasioned by a bird of a monstrous size, that came flying toward me. I remembered that I had often heard mariners speak of a miraculous bird called the roc, and conceived that the great dome which I so much admired must be its egg. As I perceived the roc coming, I crept close to the egg, so that I had before me one of the bird's legs, which was as big as the trunk of a tree. I tied myself strongly to it with my turban, in hopes that next morning she would carry me with her out of this desert island. After having passed the night in this condition, the bird flew away as soon as it was daylight, and carried me so high, that I could not discern the earth; she afterward descended with so much rapidity that I lost my senses. But when I found myself on the ground, I speedily untied the knot, and had scarcely done so, when the roc, having taken up a serpent of a monstrous length in her bill, flew away.

"The spot where she left me was encompassed on all sides by mountains, that seemed to reach above the clouds, and so steep that there was no possibility of getting out of the valley. This was a new perplexity: so that when I compared this place with the desert island from which the roc had brought me I found that I had gained nothing by the change.

"As I walked through this valley, I perceived it was strewed with diamonds, some of which were of a surprising bigness. I took pleasure in looking upon them; but shortly saw at a distance such objects as greatly diminished my satisfaction, namely, a great number of serpents, so monstrous, that the least of them was capable of swallowing an elephant. They retired in the daytime to their dens, where they hid themselves from the roc, their enemy, and came out only in the night.

"I spent the day in walking about in the valley, resting myself at times in such places as I thought most convenient. When night came on, I went into a cave, where I thought I might repose in safety. I secured the entrance with a great stone to preserve me from the serpents; but not so far as to exclude the light. I supped on part of my provisions, but the serpents, which began hissing round me, put me into such extreme fear, that I could not sleep. When day appeared, the serpents retired, and I came out of the cave trembling. I can justly say, that I walked upon diamonds, without feeling any inclination to touch them. At last I sat down, and notwithstanding my apprehensions, not having closed my eyes during the night, fell asleep, after having eaten a little more of my provision. But I had scarcely shut my eyes, when something that fell by me with a great noise awaked me. This was a large piece of raw meat; and at the same time I saw several others fall down from the rocks in different places.

"I had always regarded as fabulous what I had heard sailors and others relate of the valley of diamonds, and of the stratagems employed by merchants to obtain jewels from thence; but now I found that they had stated nothing but truth. For the fact is, that the merchants come to the neighbourhood of this valley when the eagles have young ones; and, throwing great joints of meat into the valley, the diamonds upon whose points they fall stick to them; the eagles, which are stronger in this country than anywhere else, pounce with great force upon those pieces of meat, and carry them to their nests on the rocks to feed their young; the merchants at this time run to the nests, drive off the eagles by their shouts, and take away the diamonds that stick to the meat.

"Until I perceived the device I had concluded it to be impossible for me to leave this abyss, which I regarded as my grave; but now I changed my opinion, and began to think upon the means of my deliverance. I began to collect the largest diamonds I could find, and put them into the leather bag in which I used to carry my provisions. I afterward took the largest of the pieces of meat, tied it close round me with the cloth of my turban, and then laid myself upon the ground with my face downward, the bag of diamonds being made fast to my girdle.

"I had scarcely placed myself in this posture when the eagles came. Each of them seized a piece of meat, and one of the strongest having taken me up, with the piece of meat to which I was fastened, carried me to his nest on the top of the mountain. The merchants immediately began their shouting to frighten the eagles; and when they had obliged them to quit their prey, one of them came to the nest where I was. He was much alarmed when he saw me; but recovering himself, instead of inquiring how I came thither, began to quarrel with me, and asked, why I stole his goods. 'You will treat me,' replied I, 'with more civility when you know me better. Do not be uneasy, I have diamonds enough for you and myself, more than all the other merchants together. What ever they have, they owe to chance, but I selected for myself in the bottom of the valley those which you see in this bag.' I had scarcely done speaking, when the other merchants came crowding about us, much astonished to see me; but they were much more surprised when I told them my story.

"They conducted me to their encampment, and there having opened my bag, they were surprised at the largeness of my diamonds, and confessed that in all the courts which they had visited they had never seen any of such size and perfection. I prayed the merchant who owned the nest to which I had been carried (for every merchant had his own), to take as many for his share as he pleased. He contented himself with one, and that the least of them; and when I pressed him to take more, 'No,' said he, 'I am very well satisfied with this, which is valuable enough to save me the trouble of making any more voyages, and will raise as great a fortune as I desire.'

"I spent the night with the merchants, to whom I related my story a second time, for the satisfaction of those who had not heard it. I could not moderate my joy when I found myself delivered from the danger I have mentioned. I thought myself in a dream, and could scarcely believe myself out of danger.

"The merchants had thrown their pieces of meat into the valley for several days, and each of them being satisfied with the diamonds that had fallen to his lot, we left the place the next morning and travelled near high mountains, where there were serpents of a prodigious length, which we had the good fortune to escape. We took shipping at the first port we reached, and touched at the isle of Roha, where the trees grow that yield camphire. This tree is so large, and its branches so thick, that one hundred men may easily sit under its shade. The juice of which the camphire is made exudes from a hole bored in the upper part of the tree, is received in a vessel, where it thickens to a consistency, and becomes what we call camphire; after the juice is thus drawn out, the tree withers and dies.

"In this island is also found the rhinoceros, an animal less than the elephant, but larger than the buffalo. It has a horn upon its nose, about a cubit in length; this horn is solid, and cleft through the middle. The rhinoceros fights with the elephant, runs his horn into his belly, and carries him off upon his head; but the blood and the fat of the elephant running into his eyes, and making him blind, he falls to the ground; and then, strange to relate! the roc comes and carries them both away in her claws, for food for her young ones.

"In this island I exchanged some of my diamonds for merchandise. From hence we went to other ports, and at last, having touched at several trading towns of the continent, we landed at Bussorah, from whence I proceeded to Bagdad. There I immediately gave large presents to the poor, and lived honourably upon the vast riches I had gained with so much fatigue."

The spot where she left me was encompassed on all sides by mountains that seemed to reach above the clouds, and so steep that there was no possibility of getting out of the valley.

Thus Sinbad ended his relation, gave Hindbad another hundred sequins, and invited him to come the next day to hear the account of the third voyage.

THE THIRD VOYAGE

"I soon lost the remembrance of the perils I had encountered in my two former voyages," said Sinbad, "and being in the flower of my age, I grew weary of living without business, and went from Bagdad to Bussorah with the richest commodities of the country. There I embarked again with some merchants. We made a long voyage and touched at several ports, where we carried on a considerable trade. One day, being out in the main ocean, we were overtaken by a dreadful tempest, which drove us from our course. The tempest continued several days, and brought us before the port of an island, which the captain was very unwilling to enter, but we were obliged to cast anchor. When we had furled our sails, the captain told us that this, and some other neighbouring islands, were inhabited by hairy savages, who would speedily attack us; and, though they were but dwarfs, yet we must make no resistance, for they were more in number than the locusts; and if we happened to kill one of them they would all fall upon us and destroy us.

"We soon found that what he had told us was but too true; an innumerable multitude of frightful savages, about two feet high, covered all over with red hair, came swimming towards us, and encompassed our ship. They spoke to us as they came near, but we understood not their language and they climbed up the sides of the ship with such agility as surprised us. They took down our sails, cut the cables, and hauling to the shore, made us all get out, and afterward carried the ship into another island, from whence they had come.

"We went forward into the island, where we gathered some fruits and herbs to prolong our lives as long as we could; but we expected nothing but death. As we advanced, we perceived at a distance a vast pile of buildings, and made toward it. We found it to be a palace, elegantly built, and very lofty, with a gate of ebony, which we forced open. We entered the court, where we saw before us a large apartment, with a porch, having on one side a heap of human bones, and on the other a vast number of roasting spits. We trembled at this spectacle, and being fatigued with travelling, fell to the ground, seized with deadly apprehension, and lay a long time motionless.

"The sun set, the gate of the apartment opened with a loud crash, and there came out the horrible figure of a black man, as tall as a lofty palm-tree. He had but one eye, and that in the middle of his forehead, where it looked as red as a burning coal. His fore-teeth were very long and sharp, and stood out of his mouth, which was as deep as that of a horse. His upper lip hung down upon his breast. His ears resembled those of an elephant, and covered his shoulders; and his nails were as long and crooked as the talons of the greatest birds. At the sight of so frightful a giant we became insensible, and lay like dead men.

"At last we came to ourselves, and saw him sitting in the porch looking at us. When he had considered us well, he advanced toward us, and laying his hand upon me, took me up by the nape of my neck, and turned me round as a butcher would do a sheep's head. After having examined me, and perceiving me to be so lean that I had nothing but skin and bone, he let me go. He took up all the rest one by one, and viewed them in the same manner. The captain being the fattest, he held him with one hand, as I would do a sparrow, and thrust a spit through him; he then kindled a great fire, roasted, and ate him in his apartment for his supper. Having finished his repast, he returned to his porch, where he lay and fell asleep, snoring louder than thunder. He slept thus till morning. As to ourselves, it was not possible for us to enjoy any rest, so that we passed the night in the most painful apprehension that can be imagined. When day appeared the giant awoke, got up, went out, and left us in the palace.

"When we thought him at a distance, we broke the melancholy silence we had preserved the whole of the night, and filled the palace with our lamentations and groans.

"We spent the day in traversing the island, supporting ourselves with fruits and herbs as we had done the day before. In the evening we sought for some place of shelter, but found none; so that we were forced, whether we would or not, to go back to the palace.

"The giant failed not to return, and supped once more upon one of our companions, after which he slept and snored till day, and then went out and left us as before. Our situation appeared to us so dreadful that several of my comrades designed to throw themselves into the sea, rather than die so painful a death, upon which one of the company answered that it would be much more reasonable to devise some method to rid ourselves of the monster.

"Having thought of a project for this purpose, I communicated it to my comrades, who approved it. 'Brethren,' said I, 'you know there is much timber floating upon the coast; if you will be advised by me, let us make several rafts capable of bearing us. In the meantime, we will carry out the design I proposed to you for our deliverance from the giant, and if it succeed, we may remain here patiently awaiting the arrival of some ship; but if it happen to miscarry, we will take to our rafts and put to sea.' My advice was approved, and we made rafts capable of carrying three persons on each.

"We returned to the palace toward the evening, and the giant arrived shortly after. We were forced to submit to seeing another of our comrades roasted, but at last we revenged ourselves on the brutish giant in the following manner. After he had finished his supper he lay down on his back and fell asleep. As soon as we heard him snore, according to his custom, nine of the boldest among us, and myself, took each of us a spit, and putting the points of them into the fire till they were burning hot, we thrust them into his eye all at once and blinded him. The pain made him break out into a frightful yell: he started up, and stretched out his hands, in order to sacrifice some of us to his rage: but we ran to such places as he could not reach; and after having sought for us in vain, he groped for the gate and went out, howling in agony.

"We quitted the palace after the giant and came to the shore, where we had left our rafts, and put them immediately to sea. We waited till day, in order to get upon them in case the giant should come toward us with any guide of his own species; but we hoped if he did not appear by sunrise, and gave over his howling, which we still heard, that he would prove to be dead; and if that happened, we resolved to stay in that island, and not to risk our lives upon the rafts. But day had scarcely appeared when we perceived our cruel enemy, accompanied with two others almost of the same size, leading him; and a great number more coming before him at a quick pace.

"We did not hesitate to take to our rafts, and put to sea with all the speed we could. The giants, who perceived this, took up great stones, and running to the shore, entered the water up to the middle, and threw so exactly that they sunk all the rafts but that I was upon; and all my companions, except the two with me, were drowned. We rowed with all our might, and escaped the giants, but when we got out to sea we were exposed to the mercy of the waves and winds, and spent that night and the following day under the most painful uncertainty as to our fate; but next morning we had the good fortune to be thrown upon an island, where we landed with much joy. We found excellent fruit, which afforded us great relief and recruited our strength.

"At night we went to sleep on the sea shore; but were awakened by the noise of a serpent of surprising length and thickness, whose scales made a rustling noise as he wound himself along. It swallowed up one of my comrades, notwithstanding his loud cries, and the efforts he made to extricate himself from it; dashing him several times against the ground, it crushed him, and we could hear it gnaw and tear the poor wretch's bones, though we had fled to a considerable distance.

"As we walked about, when day returned, we saw a tall tree, upon which we designed to pass the following night, for our security; and having satisfied our hunger with fruit, we mounted it before the dusk had fallen. Shortly after, the serpent came hissing to the foot of the tree; raised itself up against the trunk of it, and meeting with my comrade, who sat lower than I, swallowed him at once, and went off.

"I remained upon the tree till it was day, and then came down, more like a dead man than one alive, expecting the same fate as my two companions. This filled me with horror, and I advanced some steps to throw myself into the sea; but I withstood this dictate of despair, and submitted myself to the will of God.

"In the meantime I collected a great quantity of small wood, brambles, and dry thorns, and making them up into faggots, made a wide circle with them round the tree, and also tied some of them to the branches over my head. Having done this, when the evening came I shut myself up within this circle, feeling that I had neglected nothing which could preserve me from the cruel destiny with which I was threatened. The serpent failed not to come at the usual hour, and went round the tree, seeking for an opportunity to devour me, but was prevented by the rampart I had made; so that he lay till day, like a cat watching in vain for a mouse that has fortunately reached a place of safety. When day appeared he retired, but I dared not to leave my fort until the sun arose.

"I felt so much fatigued by the labour to which it had put me, and suffered so much from the serpent's poisonous breath, that death seemed more eligible to me than the horrors of such a state. I came down from the tree, and was going to throw myself into the sea, when God took compassion on me and I perceived a ship at a considerable distance. I called as loud as I could, and taking the linen from my turban, displayed it, that they might observe me. This had the desired effect; the crew perceived me, and the captain sent his boat for me. As soon as I came on board, the merchants and seamen flocked about me, to know how I came into that desert island; and after I had related to them all that had befallen me, the oldest among them said that they had often heard of the giants that dwelt in that island, that they were cannibals; and as to the serpents, they added, that there were abundance of them that hid themselves by day, and came abroad by night. After having testified their joy at my escaping so many dangers, they brought me the best of their provisions; and the captain, seeing that I was in rags, was so generous as to give me one of his own suits. We continued at sea for some time, touched at several islands, and at last landed at that of Salabat, where sandal wood is obtained, which is of great use in medicine. We entered the port, and came to anchor. The merchants began to unload their goods, in order to sell or exchange them. In the meantime, the captain came to me and said: 'Brother, I have here some goods that belonged to a merchant, who sailed some time on board this ship, and he being dead, I design to dispose of them for the benefit of his heirs.' The bales he spoke of lay on the deck, and showing them to me, he said: 'There are the goods; I hope you will take care to sell them, and you shall have factorage.' I thanked him for thus affording me an opportunity of employing myself, because I hated to be idle.

"The clerk of the ship took an account of all the bales, with the names of the merchants to whom they belonged, and when he asked the captain in whose name he should enter those he had given me the charge of, 'Enter them,' said the captain, 'in the name of Sinbad.' I could not hear myself named without some emotion; and looking steadfastly on the captain, I knew him to be the person who, in my second voyage, had left me in the island where I fell asleep.

"I was not surprised that he, believing me to be dead, did not recognise me. 'Captain,' said I, 'was the merchant's name, to whom those bales belonged, Sinbad?' 'Yes,' replied he, 'that was his name; he came from Bagdad, and embarked on board my ship at Bussorah.' 'You believe him, then, to be dead?' said I. 'Certainly,' answered he. 'No, captain,' resumed I; 'look at me, and you may know that I am Sinbad.'

"The captain, having considered me attentively, recognised me. 'God be praised,' said he, embracing me, 'I rejoice that fortune has rectified my fault. There are your goods, which I always took care to preserve.' I took them from him, and made him the acknowledgments to which he was entitled.

"From the isle of Salabat, we went to another, where I furnished myself with cloves, cinnamon, and other spices. As we sailed from this island, we saw a tortoise twenty cubits in length and breadth. We observed also an amphibious animal like a cow, which gave milk; its skin is so hard, that they usually make bucklers of it.

"In short, after a long voyage I arrived at Bussorah, and from thence returned to Bagdad, with so much wealth that I knew not its extent. I gave a great deal to the poor, and bought another considerable estate in addition to what I had already."

Having finished his repast, he returned to his porch, where he lay and fell asleep, snoring louder than thunder.

Thus Sinbad finished the history of his third voyage; gave another hundred sequins to Hindbad, and invited him to dinner again the next day to hear the story of his fourth series of adventures.

THE FOURTH VOYAGE

"The pleasures which I enjoyed after my third voyage had not charms sufficient to divert me from another. My passion for trade, and my love of novelty, again prevailed. I therefore settled my affairs, and having provided a stock of goods fit for the traffic I designed to engage in, I set out on my journey. I took the route of Persia, travelled over several provinces, and then arrived at a port, where I embarked. We hoisted our sails, and touched at several ports of the continent, and then put out to sea; when we were overtaken by such a sudden gust of wind, as obliged the captain to lower his yards, and take all other necessary precautions to prevent the danger that threatened us. But all was in vain; our endeavours had no effect, the sails were split in a thousand pieces, and the ship was stranded; several of the merchants and seamen were drowned, and the cargo was lost.

"I had the good fortune, with several of the merchants and mariners, to get upon some planks, and we were carried by the current to an island which lay before us. There we found fruit and spring water, which preserved our lives. We stayed all night near the place where we had been cast ashore and next morning, as soon as the sun was up, advancing into the island, saw some houses, which we approached. As soon as we drew near, we were encompassed by a great number of negroes, who seized us and carried us to their respective habitations.

"I, and five of my comrades, were carried to one place; here they made us sit down, and gave us a certain herb, which they made signs to us to eat. My comrades, not taking notice that the blacks ate none of it themselves, thought only of satisfying their hunger, and ate with greediness. But I, suspecting some trick, would not so much as taste it, which happened well for me; for in a little time after, I perceived my companions had lost their senses, and that when they spoke to me, they knew not what they said.

"The negroes fed us afterward with rice, prepared with oil of cocoa-nuts; and my comrades, who had lost their reason, ate of it greedily. I also partook of it, but very sparingly. They gave us that herb at first on purpose to deprive us of our senses, that we might not be aware of the sad destiny prepared for us; and they supplied us with rice to fatten us; for, being cannibals, their design was to eat us as soon as we grew fat. This accordingly happened, for they devoured my comrades, who were not sensible of their condition; but my senses being entire, you may easily guess that instead of growing fat I grew leaner every day. The fear of death under which I laboured caused me to fall into a languishing distemper, which proved my safety; for the negroes, having eaten my companions, seeing me to be withered, and sick, deferred my death.

"Meanwhile I had much liberty, so that scarcely any notice was taken of what I did, and this gave me an opportunity one day to get at a distance from the houses and to make my escape. An old man, who saw me and suspected my design, called to me as loud as he could to return; but I redoubled my speed, and quickly got out of sight. At that time there was none but the old man about the houses, the rest being abroad, and not to return till night, which was usual with them. Therefore, being sure that they could not arrive in time enough to pursue me, I went on till night, when I stopped to rest a little, and to eat some of the provisions I had secured; but I speedily set forward again, and travelled seven days, avoiding those places which seemed to be inhabited, and lived for the most part upon cocoa-nuts, which served me both for meat and drink. On the eighth day I came near the sea, and saw some white people like myself, gathering pepper, of which there was great plenty in that place. This I took to be a good omen, and went to them without any scruple. They came to meet me as soon as they saw me, and asked me in Arabic who I was, and whence I came. I was overjoyed to hear them speak in my own language, and satisfied their curiosity by giving them an account of my shipwreck, and how I fell into the hands of the negroes. 'Those negroes,' replied they, 'eat men, and by what miracle did you escape their cruelty?' I related to them the circumstances I have just mentioned, at which they were wonderfully surprised.

"I stayed with them till they had gathered their quantity of pepper, and then sailed with them to the island from whence they had come. They presented me to their king, who was a good prince. He had the patience to hear the relation of my adventures; and he afterward gave me clothes, and commanded care to be taken of me.

"The island was very well peopled, plentiful in everything, and the capital a place of great trade. This agreeable retreat was very comfortable to me, after my misfortunes, and the kindness of this generous prince completed my satisfaction. In a word, there was not a person more in favour with him than myself; and consequently every man in court and city sought to oblige me; so that in a very little time I was looked upon rather as a native than a stranger.

"I observed one thing which to me appeared very extraordinary. All the people, the king himself not excepted, rode their horses without bridle or stirrups. This made me one day take the liberty to ask the king how it came to pass. His Majesty answered, that I talked to him of things which nobody knew the use of in his dominions.

"I went immediately to a workman, and gave him a model for making the stock of a saddle. When that was done, I covered it myself with velvet and leather, and embroidered it with gold. I afterward went to a smith, who made me a bit, according to the pattern I showed him, and also some stirrups. When I had all things completed, I presented them to the king, and put them upon one of his horses. His Majesty mounted immediately, and was so pleased with them, that he testified his satisfaction by large presents.

"As I paid my court very constantly to the king, he said to me one day: 'Sinbad, I love thee and I have one thing to demand of thee, which thou must grant.' 'Sir,' answered I, 'there is nothing but I will do, as a mark of my obedience to your Majesty.' 'I have a mind thou shouldst marry,' replied he, 'that so thou mayest stay in my dominions, and think no more of thy own country.' I durst not resist the prince's will, and he gave me one of the ladies of his court, noble, beautiful, and rich. The ceremonies of marriage being over, I went and dwelt with my wife, and for some time we lived together in perfect harmony. I was not, however, satisfied with my banishment, therefore designed to make my escape the first opportunity, and to return to Bagdad.

"At this time the wife of one of my neighbours fell sick, and died. I went to see and comfort him in his affliction, and finding him absorbed in sorrow, I said to him as soon as I saw him: 'God preserve you and grant you a long life.' 'Alas!' replied he, 'how do you think I should obtain the favour you wish me? I have not above an hour to live.' 'Pray,' said I, 'do not entertain such a melancholy thought; I hope I shall enjoy your company many years.' 'I wish you,' he replied, 'a long life; but my days are at an end, for I must be buried this day with my wife. This is a law which our ancestors established in this island, and it is always observed. The living husband is interred with the dead wife, and the living wife with the dead husband. Nothing can save me; every one must submit to this law.'

"While he was giving me an account of this barbarous custom, the very relation of which chilled my blood, his kindred, friends, and neighbours came in a body to assist at the funeral. They dressed the corpse of the woman in her richest apparel, and all her jewels, as if it had been her wedding day; then they placed her in an open coffin, and began their march to the place of burial, the husband walking at the head of the company. They proceeded to a high mountain, and when they had reached the place of their destination, they took up a large stone, which covered the mouth of a deep pit, and let down the corpse with all its apparel and jewels. Then the husband embracing his kindred and friends, suffered himself, without resistance, to be put into another open coffin with a pot of water, and seven small loaves, and was let down in the same manner. The ceremony being over, the aperture was again covered with the stone, and the company returned.

"It is needless for me to tell you that I was a melancholy spectator of this funeral, while the rest were scarcely moved, the custom was to them so familiar. I could not forbear communicating to the king my sentiment respecting the practice: 'Sir,' I said, 'I cannot but feel astonished at the strange usage observed in this country, of burying the living with the dead. I have been a great traveller, and seen many countries, but never heard of so cruel a law.' 'What do you mean, Sinbad?' replied the king: 'it is a common law. I shall be interred with the queen, my wife, if she die first.' 'But, sir,' said I, 'may I presume to ask your Majesty, if strangers be obliged to observe this law?' 'Without doubt,' returned the king; 'they are not exempted, if they be married in this island.'

"I returned home much depressed by this answer; for the fear of my wife's dying first and that I should be interred alive with her, occasioned me very uneasy reflections. But there was no remedy; I must have patience, and submit to the will of God. I trembled, however, at every little indisposition of my wife, and, alas! in a little time my fears were realised, for she fell sick and died.

"The king and all his court expressed their wish to honour the funeral with their presence, and the most considerable people of the city did the same. When all was ready for the ceremony, the corpse was put into a coffin with all her jewels and her most magnificent apparel. The procession began, and as second actor in this doleful tragedy, I went next the corpse, with my eyes full of tears, bewailing my deplorable fate. Before we reached the mountain, I made an attempt to affect the minds of the spectators: I addressed myself to the king first, and then to all those that were round me; bowing before them to the earth, and kissing the border of their garments, I prayed them to have compassion upon me. 'Consider,' said I, 'that I am a stranger, and ought not to be subject to this rigorous law, and that I have another wife and children in my own country.' Although I spoke in the most pathetic manner, no one was moved by my address; on the contrary, they ridiculed my dread of death as cowardly, made haste to let my wife's corpse into the pit, and lowered me down the next moment in an open coffin with a vessel full of water and seven loaves.

"As I approached the bottom, I discovered by the aid of the little light that came from above the nature of this subterranean place; it seemed an endless cavern, and might be about fifty fathoms deep.

"Instead of losing my courage and calling death to my assistance in that miserable condition, however, I felt still an inclination to live, and to do all I could to prolong my days. I went groping about, for the bread and water that was in my coffin, and took some of it. Though the darkness of the cave was so great that I could not distinguish day and night, yet I always found my coffin again, and the cave seemed to be more spacious than it had appeared to be at first. I lived for some days upon my bread and water, which being all spent, I at last prepared for death.

"I was offering up my last devotions when I heard something tread, and breathing or panting as it walked. I advanced toward that side from whence I heard the noise, and on my approach the creature puffed and blew harder, as if running away from me. I followed the noise, and the thing seemed to stop sometimes, but always fled and blew as I approached. I pursued it for a considerable time, till at last I perceived a light, resembling a star; I went on, sometimes lost sight of it, but always found it again, and at last discovered that it came through a hole in the rock, large enough to admit a man.

"Upon this, I stopped some time to rest, being much fatigued with the rapidity of my progress: afterward coming up to the hole, I got through, and found myself upon the seashore. I leave you to guess the excess of my joy: it was such that I could scarcely persuade myself that the whole was not a dream.

"But when I was recovered from my surprise, and convinced of the reality of my escape, I perceived what I had followed to be a creature which came out of the sea, and was accustomed to enter the cavern when the tides were high.

"I examined the mountain, and found it to be situated betwixt the sea and the town, but without any passage to or communication with the latter; the rocks on the sea side being high and perpendicularly steep. I prostrated myself on the shore to thank God for this mercy, and afterward entered the cave again to fetch bread and water, which I ate by daylight with a better appetite than I had done since my interment in the dark cavern.

"I returned thither a second time, and groped among the coffins for all the diamonds, rubies, pearls, gold bracelets, and rich stuffs I could find; these I brought to the shore, and tying them up neatly into bales, I laid them together upon the beach, waiting till some ship might appear.

"After two or three days, I perceived a ship just come out of the harbour, making for the place where I was. I made a sign with the linen of my turban, and called to the crew as loud as I could. They heard me, and sent a boat to bring me on board, when they asked by what misfortune I came thither; I told them that I had suffered shipwreck two days before, and made shift to get ashore with the goods they saw. It was fortunate for me that these people did not consider the place where I was, nor inquire into the probability of what I told them; but without hesitation took me on board. When I came to the ship, the captain was so well pleased to have saved me, and so much taken up with his own affairs, that he also took the story of my pretended shipwreck upon trust, and generously refused some jewels which I offered him.

"We passed by several islands, and among others that called the isle of Bells, about ten days' sail from Serendib, and six from that of Kela, where we landed. This island produces lead mines, Indian canes, and excellent camphire.

"The King of the isle of Kela is very rich and powerful, and the isle of Bells, which is about two days' journey in extent, is also subject to him. The inhabitants are so barbarous that they still eat human flesh. After we had finished our traffic in that island, we put to sea again, and touched at several other ports; at last I arrived happily at Bagdad with infinite riches. Out of gratitude to God for His mercies, I contributed liberally toward the support of several mosques, and the subsistence of the poor, and gave myself up to the society of my kindred and friends, enjoying myself with them in festivities and amusements."

Here Sinbad finished the relation of his fourth voyage. He made a new present of one hundred sequins to Hindbad, whom he requested to return with the rest next day at the same hour to dine with him, and hear the story of his fifth voyage. Hindbad and the other guests took their leave and retired. Next morning when they all met, they sat down at table, and when dinner was over, Sinbad began the relation of his fifth voyage as follows:

THE FIFTH VOYAGE

"All the troubles and calamities I had undergone," said he, "could not cure me of my inclination to make new voyages. I therefore bought goods, departed with them for the best seaport; and that I might not be obliged to depend upon a captain, but have a ship at my own command, I remained there till one was built on purpose. When the ship was ready, I went on board with my goods: but not having enough to load her, I agreed to take with me several merchants of different nations with their merchandise.

"We sailed with the first fair wind, and after a long navigation, the first place we touched at was a desert island, where we found an egg of a roc, equal in size to that I formerly mentioned. There was a young roc in it just ready to be hatched, and its bill had begun to appear. The merchants whom I had taken on board, and who landed with me, broke the egg with hatchets, pulled out the young roc, piecemeal, and roasted it. I had earnestly entreated them not to meddle with the egg, but they would not listen to me.

"Scarcely had they finished their repast, when there appeared in the air at a considerable distance from us two great clouds. The captain whom I had hired to navigate my ship, said they were the male and female roc that belonged to the young one and pressed us to re-embark with all speed, to prevent the misfortune which he saw would otherwise befall us. We hastened on board, and set sail with all possible expedition.

"In the meantime, the two rocs approached with a frightful noise, which they redoubled when they saw the egg broken, and their young one gone. They flew back in the direction they had come, and disappeared for some time, while we made all the sail we could to endeavour to prevent that which unhappily befell us.

"They soon returned, and we observed that each of them carried between its talons rocks of a monstrous size. When they came directly over my ship, they hovered, and one of them let fall a stone, but by the dexterity of the steersman it missed us. The other roc, to our misfortune, threw his burden so exactly upon the middle of the ship, as to split it into a thousand pieces. The mariners and passengers were all crushed to death, or sank. I myself was of the number of the latter; but as I came up again, I fortunately caught hold of a piece of the wreck, and swimming sometimes with one hand, and sometimes with the other, I came to an island, and got safely ashore.

"I sat down upon the grass, to recover myself from my fatigue, after which I went into the island to explore it. I found trees everywhere, some of them bearing green, and others ripe fruits, and streams of fresh pure water. I ate of the fruits, which I found excellent; and drank of the water, which was very good.

"When I was a little advanced into the island, I saw an old man, who appeared very weak and infirm. He was sitting on the bank of a stream, and at first I took him to be one who had been shipwrecked like myself. I went toward him and saluted him, but he only slightly bowed his head. I asked him why he sat so still, but instead of answering me, he made a sign for me to take him upon my back, and carry him over the brook, signifying that it was to gather fruit.

"I believed him really to stand in need of my assistance, took him upon my back, and having carried him over, bade him get down, and for that end stooped, that he might get off with ease; but instead of doing so (which I laugh at every time I think of it) the old man, who to me appeared quite decrepit, clasped his legs nimbly about my neck. He sat astride upon my shoulders, and held my throat so tight, that I thought he would have strangled me, the apprehension of which made me swoon and fall down.

"Notwithstanding my fainting, the ill-natured old fellow kept fast about my neck, but opened his legs a little to give me time to recover my breath. When I had done so, he thrust one of his feet against my stomach, and struck me so rudely on the side with the other that he forced me to rise up against my will. Having arisen, he made me walk under the trees, and forced me now and then to stop, to gather and eat fruit. He never left me all day, and when I lay down to rest at night, laid himself down with me, holding always fast about my neck. Every morning he pushed me to make me awake, and afterward obliged me to get up and walk, and pressed me with his feet.

"One day I found in my way several dry calabashes that had fallen from a tree. I took a large one, and after cleaning it, pressed into it some juice of grapes, which abounded in the island; having filled the calabash, I put it by in a convenient place, and going thither again some days after, I tasted it, and found the wine so good, that it soon made me forget my sorrow, gave me new vigour, and so exhilarated my spirits, that I began to sing and dance as I walked along.

"The old man, perceiving the effect which this liquor had upon me, and that I carried him with more ease than before, made me a sign to give him some of it. I handed him the calabash, and the liquor pleasing his palate, he drank it all off. There being a considerable quantity of it, he became intoxicated, and the fumes getting up into his head, he began to sing after his manner, and to dance, thus loosening his legs from about me by degrees. Finding that he did not press me as before, I threw him upon the ground, where he lay without motion; I then took up a great stone, and crushed him.

"I was extremely glad to be thus freed forever from this troublesome fellow. I now walked toward the beach, where I met the crew of a ship that had cast anchor, to take in water. They were surprised to see me, but more so at hearing the particulars of my adventures. 'You fell,' said they, 'into the hands of the Old Man of the Sea, and are the first who ever escaped strangling by his malicious tricks. He never quits those he has once made himself master of till he has destroyed them, and he has made this island notorious by the number of men he has slain.'

"After having informed me of these things, they carried me with them to the ship, and the captain received me with great kindness, when they told him what had befallen me. He put out again to sea, and after some days' sail, we arrived at the harbour of a great city.

"One of the merchants who had taken me into his friendship invited me to go along with him, and carried me to a place appointed for the accommodation of foreign merchants. He gave me a large bag, and having recommended me to some people of the town, who used to gather cocoa-nuts, desired them to take me with them. 'Go,' said he, 'follow them, and act as you see them do, but do not separate from them, otherwise you may endanger your life.' Having thus spoken, he gave me provisions for the journey, and I went with them.

"We came to a thick forest of cocoa-trees, very lofty, with trunks so smooth that it was not possible to climb to the branches that bore the fruit. When we entered the forest we saw a great number of apes of several sizes, who fled as soon as they perceived us, and climbed up to the top of the trees with surprising swiftness.

"The merchants with whom I was, gathered stones and threw them at the apes on the trees. I did the same, and the apes out of revenge threw cocoa-nuts at us so fast, and with such gestures, as sufficiently testified their anger and resentment. We gathered up the cocoa-nuts, and from time to time threw stones to provoke the apes; so that by this stratagem we filled our bags with cocoa-nuts, which it had been impossible otherwise to have done.

"When we had gathered our number, we returned to the city, where the merchant who had sent me to the forest gave me the value of the cocoas I brought: 'Go on,' said he, 'and do the like every day, until you have got money enough to carry you home.' I thanked him for his advice, and gradually collected as many cocoa-nuts as produced me a considerable sum.

"The vessel in which I had come sailed with some merchants who loaded her with cocoa-nuts. I embarked in her all the nuts I had, and when she was ready to sail took leave of the merchant who had been so kind to me.

"We sailed toward the islands, where pepper grows in great plenty. From thence we went to the isle of Comari, where the best species of wood of aloes grows. I exchanged my cocoa in those two islands for pepper and wood of aloes, and went with other merchants a pearl-fishing. I hired divers, who brought me up some that were very large and pure. I embarked in a vessel that happily arrived at Bussorah; from thence I returned to Bagdad, where I made vast sums from my pepper, wood of aloes, and pearls. I gave the tenth of my gains in alms, as I had done upon my return from my other voyages, and endeavoured to dissipate my fatigues by amusements of different kinds."

When Sinbad had finished his story, he ordered one hundred sequins to be given to Hindbad, who retired with the other guests; but next morning the same company returned to dine; when Sinbad requested their attention, and gave the following account of his sixth voyage:

THE SIXTH VOYAGE

"You long without doubt to know," said he, "how, after having been shipwrecked five times, and escaped so many dangers, I could resolve again to tempt fortune, and expose myself to new hardships. I am, myself, astonished at my conduct when I reflect upon it, and must certainly have been actuated by my destiny. But be that as it may, after a year's rest I prepared for a sixth voyage, notwithstanding the entreaties of my kindred, who did all in their power to dissuade me.

"Instead of taking my way by the Persian Gulf, I travelled once more through several provinces of Persia and the Indies, and arrived at a seaport, where I embarked in a ship, the captain of which was bound on a long voyage. It was long indeed, for the captain and pilot lost their course. They, however, at last discovered where they were, but we had no reason to rejoice at the circumstance. Suddenly we saw the captain quit his post, uttering loud lamentations. He threw off his turban, pulled his beard, and beat his head like a madman. We asked him the reason, and he answered, that he was in the most dangerous place in all the ocean. 'A rapid current carries the ship along with it,' said he, 'and we shall all perish in less than a quarter of an hour. Pray to God to deliver us from this peril; we cannot escape, if He do not take pity on us.' At these words he ordered the sails to be lowered; but all the ropes broke, and the ship was carried by the current to the foot of an inaccessible mountain, where she struck and went to pieces, yet in such a manner that we saved our lives, our provisions, and the best of our goods.

"This being over, the captain said to us: 'God has done what pleased Him. Each of us may dig his grave, and bid the world adieu; for we are all in so fatal a place, that none shipwrecked here ever returned to their homes.' His discourse afflicted us sensibly, and we embraced each other, bewailing our deplorable lot.

"The mountain at the foot of which we were wrecked formed part of the coast of a very large island. It was covered with wrecks, with human bones, and with a vast quantity of goods and riches. In all other places, rivers run from their channels into the sea, but here a river of fresh water runs out of the sea into a dark cavern, whose entrance is very high and spacious. What is most remarkable in this place is, that the stones of the mountain are of crystal, rubies, or other precious stones. Here is also a sort of fountain of pitch or bitumen, that runs into the sea, which the fish swallow, and turn into ambergris: and this the waves throw up on the beach in great quantities. Trees also grow here, most of which are wood of aloes, equal in goodness to those of Comari.

"To finish the description of this place, which may well be called a gulf, since nothing ever returns from it, it is not possible for ships to get off when once they approach within a certain distance. If they be driven thither by a wind from the sea, the wind and the current impel them; and if they come into it when a land-wind blows, the height of the mountain stops the wind, and occasions a calm, so that the force of the current carries them ashore: and what completes the misfortune is, that there is no possibility of ascending the mountain, or of escaping by sea.

"We continued upon the shore in a state of despair, and expected death every day. At first we divided our provisions as equally as we could, and thus every one lived a longer or shorter time, according to his temperance, and the use he made of his provisions.

"I survived all my companions, yet when I buried the last, I had so little provision remaining that I thought I could not long endure and I dug a grave, resolving to lie down in it because there was no one left to inter me.

"But it pleased God once more to take compassion on me, and put it in my mind to go to the bank of the river which ran into the great cavern. Considering its probable course with great attention, I said to myself: 'This river, which runs thus under ground, must somewhere have an issue. If I make a raft, and leave myself to the current, it will convey me to some inhabited country, or I shall perish. If I be drowned, I lose nothing, but only change one kind of death for another.'

"I immediately went to work upon large pieces of timber and cables, for I had choice of them, and tied them together so strongly that I soon made a very solid raft. When I had finished, I loaded it with rubies, emeralds, ambergris, rock-crystal, and bales of rich stuffs. Having balanced my cargo exactly, and fastened it well to the raft, I went on board with two oars that I had made, and leaving it to the course of the river, resigned myself to the will of God.

"As soon as I entered the cavern I lost all light, and the stream carried me I knew not whither. Thus I floated some days in perfect darkness, and once found the arch so low, that it very nearly touched my head, which made me cautious afterward to avoid the like danger. All this while I ate nothing but what was just necessary to support nature; yet, notwithstanding my frugality, all my provisions were spent. Then a pleasing stupor seized upon me. I cannot tell how long it continued; but when I revived, I was surprised to find myself in an extensive plain on the brink of a river, where my raft was tied, amidst a great number of negroes. I got up as soon as I saw them, and saluted them. They spoke to me, but I did not understand their language. I was so transported with joy, that I knew not whether I was asleep or awake; but being persuaded that I was not asleep, I recited aloud the following words in Arabic: 'Call upon the Almighty, He will help thee; thou needest not perplex thyself about anything else: shut thy eyes, and while thou art asleep, God will change thy bad fortune into good.'

"One of the blacks, who understood Arabic, hearing me speak thus, came toward me and said: 'Brother, be not surprised to see us; we are inhabitants of this country, and came hither to-day to water our fields. We observed something floating upon the water, and, perceiving your raft, one of us swam into the river and brought it hither, where we fastened it, as you see, until you should awake. Pray tell us your history, for it must be extraordinary; how did you venture yourself into this river, and whence did you come?' I begged of them first to give me something to eat, and then I would satisfy their curiosity. They gave me several sorts of food, and when I had satisfied my hunger, I related all that had befallen me, which they listened to with attentive surprise. As soon as I had finished, they told me, by the person who spoke Arabic and interpreted to them what I said, that it was one of the most wonderful stories they had ever heard, and that I must go along with them, and tell it to their king myself; it being too extraordinary to be related by any other than the person to whom the events had happened.

"They immediately sent for a horse, which was brought in a little time; and having helped me to mount, some of them walked before to shew the way, while the rest took my raft and cargo and followed.

"We marched till we came to the capital of Serendib, for it was in that island I had landed. The blacks presented me to their king; I approached his throne, and saluted him as I used to do the Kings of the Indies; that is to say, I prostrated myself at his feet. The prince ordered me to rise, received me with an obliging air, and made me sit down near him.

"I related to the king all that I have told you, and his majesty was so surprised and pleased, that he commanded my adventures to be written in letters of gold, and laid up in the archives of his kingdom. At last my raft was brought in, and the bales opened in his presence: he admired the quantity of wood of aloes and ambergris; but, above all, the rubies and emeralds, for he had none in his treasury that equalled them.

"Observing that he looked on my jewels with pleasure, I fell prostrate at his feet, and took the liberty to say to him: 'Sir, not only my person is at your majesty's service, but the cargo of the raft, and I would beg of you to dispose of it as your own.' He answered me with a smile: 'Sinbad, I will take care not to covet anything of yours, or to take anything from you that God has given you; far from lessening your wealth, I design to augment it, and will not let you quit my dominions without marks of my liberality.' He then charged one of his officers to take care of me, and ordered people to serve me at his own expense. The officer was very faithful in the execution of his commission, and caused all the goods to be carried to the lodgings provided for me.

"I went every day at a set hour to make my court to the king, and spent the rest of my time in viewing the city, and what was most worthy of notice.

"The capital of Serendib stands at the end of a fine valley, in the middle of the island, encompassed by mountains the highest in the world. Rubies and several sorts of minerals abound, and the rocks are for the most part composed of a metalline stone made use of to cut and polish other precious stones. All kinds of rare plants and trees grow there, especially cedars and cocoa-nut. There is also a pearl-fishing in the mouth of its principal river; and in some of its valleys are found diamonds. I made, by way of devotion, a pilgrimage to the place where Adam was confined after his banishment from Paradise, and had the curiosity to go to the top of the mountain.

"When I returned to the city, I prayed the king to allow me to return to my own country, and he granted me permission in the most honourable manner. He would needs force a rich present upon me; and when I went to take my leave of him, he gave me one much more considerable, and at the same time charged me with a letter for the Commander of the Faithful, our sovereign, saying to me: 'I pray you give this present from me, and this letter, to the Caliph, and assure him of my friendship.' I took the present and letter and promised his majesty punctually to execute the commission with which he was pleased to honour me.

"The letter from the King of Serendib was written on the skin of a certain animal of great value, because of its being so scarce, and of a yellowish colour. The characters of this letter were of azure, and the contents as follows:

"The present consisted, first, of one single ruby made into a cup, about half a foot high, an inch thick, and filled with round pearls of half a drachm each. 2. The skin of a serpent, whose scales were as large as an ordinary piece of gold, and had the virtue to preserve from sickness those who lay upon it. 3. Fifty thousand drachms of the best wood of aloes, with thirty grains of camphire as big as pistachios. And, 4. A female slave of ravishing beauty, whose apparel was all covered over with jewels.

"The ship set sail, and after a very successful navigation we landed at Bussorah, and from thence I went to Bagdad, where the first thing I did was to acquit myself of my commission.

"I took the king of Serendib's letter and went to present myself at the gate of the Commander of the Faithful, followed by the beautiful slave, and such of my own family as carried the gifts. I stated the reason of my coming, and was immediately conducted to the throne of the caliph. I made my reverence, and, after a short speech, gave him the letter and present. When he had read what the king of Serendib wrote to him, he asked me if the prince were really so rich and potent as he represented himself in his letter. I prostrated myself a second time, and rising again, said: 'Commander of the Faithful, I can assure your majesty he doth not exceed the truth. Nothing is more worthy of admiration than the magnificence of his palace. When the prince appears in public he has a throne fixed on the back of an elephant, and marches betwixt two ranks of his ministers, favourites, and other people of his court; before him, upon the same elephant, an officer carries a golden lance in his hand; and behind the throne there is another, who stands upright, with a column of gold, on the top of which is an emerald half a foot long and an inch thick; before him march a guard of one thousand men, clad in cloth of gold and silk, and mounted on elephants richly caparisoned.

"While the king is on his march, the officer who is before him on the same elephant cries from time to time, with a loud voice: 'Behold the great monarch, the potent and redoubtable Sultan of the Indies, whose palace is covered with one hundred thousand rubies, and who possesses twenty thousand crowns of diamonds. Behold the monarch greater than Solomon, and the powerful Maha-raja.' After he has pronounced those words, the officer behind the throne cries in his turn: 'This monarch, so great and so powerful, must die, must die, must die.' And the officer before replies: 'Praise be to him who liveth for ever.'

"Furthermore, the King of Serendib is so just that there are no judges in his dominions. His people have no need of them. They understand and observe justice rigidly of themselves.'

"The caliph was much pleased with my account. 'The wisdom of that king,' said he, 'appears in his letter, and after what you tell me, I must confess, that his wisdom is worthy of his people, and his people deserve so wise a prince.' Having spoken thus, he dismissed me, and sent me home with a rich present."

Sinbad left off, and his company retired, Hindbad having first received one hundred sequins; and next day they returned to hear the relation of his seventh and last voyage.

THE SEVENTH AND LAST VOYAGE

"Being returned from my sixth voyage," said Sinbad, "I absolutely laid aside all thoughts of travelling; for, besides that my age now required rest, I was resolved no more to expose myself to such risks as I had encountered; so that I thought of nothing but to pass the rest of my days in tranquillity. One day, however, as I was treating my friends, one of my servants came and told me that an officer of the caliph's inquired for me. I rose from table, and went to him. 'The caliph,' said he, 'has sent me to tell you that he must speak with you.' I followed the officer to the palace, where, being presented to the caliph, I saluted him by prostrating myself at his feet. 'Sinbad,' said he to me, 'I stand in need of your service; you must carry my answer and present to the King of Serendib. It is but just I should return his civility.'

"This command of the caliph was to me like a clap of thunder. 'Commander of the Faithful,' I replied, 'I am ready to do whatever your majesty shall think fit to command; but I beseech you most humbly to consider what I have undergone. I have also made a vow never to go out of Bagdad.' Hence I took occasion to give him a full and particular account of all my adventures, which he had the patience to hear out.

"As soon as I had finished, 'I confess,' said he, 'that the things you tell me are very extraordinary, yet you must for my sake undertake this voyage which I propose to you. You will only have to go to the isle of Serendib, and deliver the commission which I give you, for you know it would not comport with my dignity to be indebted to the king of that island.' Perceiving that the caliph insisted upon my compliance, I submitted, and told him that I was willing to obey. He was very well pleased, and ordered me one thousand sequins for the expenses of my journey.

"I prepared for my departure in a few days, and as soon as the caliph's letter and present were delivered to me, I went to Bussorah, where I embarked, and had a very happy voyage. Having arrived at the isle of Serendib, I acquainted the king's ministers with my commission, and prayed them to get me speedy audience. They did so, and I was conducted to the palace, where I saluted the king by prostration, according to custom. That prince knew me immediately, and testified very great joy at seeing me, 'Sinbad,' said he, 'you are welcome; I have many times thought of you since you departed; I bless the day on which we see one another once more.' I made my compliments to him, and after having thanked him for his kindness, delivered the caliph's letter and present, which he received with all imaginable satisfaction.

"The caliph's present was a complete suit of cloth of gold, valued at one thousand sequins; fifty robes of rich stuff, a hundred of white cloth, the finest of Cairo, Suez, and Alexandria; a vessel of agate broader than deep, an inch thick, and half a foot wide, the bottom of which represented in bas-relief a man with one knee on the ground, who held a bow and an arrow, ready to discharge at a lion. He sent him also a rich tablet, which, according to tradition, belonged to the great Solomon. The caliph's letter was as follows:

"The King of Serendib was highly gratified that the caliph answered his friendship. A little time after this audience, I solicited leave to depart, and had much difficulty to obtain it. I procured it, however, at last, and the king, when he dismissed me, made me a very considerable present. I embarked immediately to return to Bagdad, but had not the good fortune to arrive there so speedily as I had hoped. God ordered it otherwise.

"Three or four days after my departure, we were attacked by corsairs, who easily seized upon our ship, because it was no vessel of force. Some of the crew offered resistance, which cost them their lives. But for myself and the rest, who were not so imprudent, the corsairs saved us on purpose to make slaves of us.

"We were all stripped, and instead of our own clothes, they gave us sorry rags, and carried us into a remote island, where they sold us.

"I fell into the hands of a rich merchant, who, as soon as he bought me, carried me to his house, treated me well, and clad me handsomely for a slave. Some days after, not knowing who I was, he asked me if I understood any trade. I answered, that I was no mechanic, but a merchant, and that the corsairs who sold me, had robbed me of all I possessed. 'But tell me,' replied he, 'can you shoot with a bow?' I answered, that the bow was one of my exercises in my youth. He gave me a bow and arrows, and, taking me behind him upon an elephant, carried me to a thick forest some leagues from the town. We penetrated a great way into the wood, and he bade me alight; then, shewing me a great tree, 'Climb up that,' said he, 'and shoot at the elephants as you see them pass by, for there is a prodigious number of them in this forest, and if any of them fall, come and give me notice.' Having spoken this, he left me victuals, and returned to the town, and I continued upon the tree all night.

"I saw no elephant during the night, but next morning, as soon as the sun was up, I perceived a great number. I shot several arrows among them, and at last one of the elephants fell, when the rest retired immediately, and left me at liberty to go and acquaint my patron with my booty. When I had informed him, he gave me a good meal, commended my dexterity, and caressed me highly. We went afterwards together to the forest, where we dug a hole for the elephant; my patron designing to return when it had fallen to pieces and take its teeth to trade with.

"I continued this employment for two months, and killed an elephant every day, getting sometimes upon one tree, and sometimes upon another. One morning, as I looked for the elephants, I perceived with extreme amazement that, instead of passing by me across the forest as usual, they stopped, and came to me with a horrible noise, in such number that the plain was covered, and shook under them. They encompassed the tree in which I was concealed, with their trunks extended, and all fixed their eyes upon me. At this alarming spectacle I continued immovable, and was so much terrified, that my bow and arrows fell out of my hand.

"My fears were not without cause; for after the elephants had stared upon me some time, one of the largest of them put his trunk round the foot of the tree, plucked it up, and threw it on the ground. I fell with the tree; and the elephant, taking me up with his trunk, laid me on his back, where I sat more like one dead than alive, with my quiver on my shoulder. He put himself afterward at the head of the rest, who followed him in troops, carried me a considerable way, then laid me down on the ground, and retired with all his companions. After having lain some time, and seeing the elephants gone, I got up, and found I was upon a long and broad hill, almost covered with the bones and teeth of elephants. I confess to you, that this object furnished me with abundance of reflections. I admired the instinct of those animals; I doubted not but that was their burying-place, and that they carried me thither on purpose to tell me that I should forbear to persecute them, since I did it only for their teeth. I did not stay on the hill, but turned toward the city, and, after having travelled a day and a night, I came to my patron.

"As soon as he saw me, 'Ah, poor Sinbad,' exclaimed he, 'I was in great trouble to know what was become of you. I have been at the forest, where I found a tree newly pulled up, and a bow and arrows on the ground, and I despaired of ever seeing you more. Pray tell me what befell you, and by what good chance you are still alive.' I satisfied his curiosity, and going both of us next morning to the hill, he found to his great joy that what I had told him was true. We loaded the elephant which had carried us with as many teeth as he could bear; and when we were returned, 'Brother,' said my patron, 'for I will treat you no more as my slave, after having made such a discovery as will enrich me, God bless you with all happiness and prosperity. I declare before Him, that I give you your liberty. I concealed from you what I am now going to tell you.

"'The elephants of our forest have every year killed a great many slaves, whom we sent to seek ivory. God has delivered you from their fury, and has bestowed that favour upon you only. It is a sign that He loves you, and has some use for your service in the world. You have procured me incredible wealth. Formerly we could not procure ivory but by exposing the lives of our slaves, and now our whole city is enriched by your means. I could engage all our inhabitants to contribute toward making your fortune, but I will have the glory of doing it myself.'

"To this obliging declaration I replied: 'Patron, God preserve you. Your giving me my liberty is enough to discharge what you owe me, and I desire no other reward for the service I had the good fortune to do to you, and your city, but leave to return to my own country.' 'Very well,' said he, 'the monsoon will in a little time bring ships for ivory. I will then send you home, and give you wherewith to bear your charges.' I thanked him again for my liberty and his good intentions toward me. I stayed with him expecting the monsoon; and during that time, we made so many journeys to the hill that we filled all our warehouses with ivory. The other merchants, who traded in it, did the same, for it could not be long concealed from them.

"The ships arrived at last, and my patron, himself having made choice of the ship wherein I was to embark, loaded half of it with ivory on my account, laid in provisions in abundance for my passage, and besides obliged me to accept a present of some curiosities of the country of great value. After I had returned him a thousand thanks for all his favours, I went aboard. We set sail, and as the adventure which procured me this liberty was very extraordinary, I had it continually in my thoughts.

"We stopped at some islands to take in fresh provisions. Our vessel being come to a port on the main land in the Indies, we touched there, and not being willing to venture by sea to Bussorah, I landed my proportion of the ivory, resolving to proceed on my journey by land. I made vast sums by my ivory, bought several rarities for presents, and when my equipage was ready, set out in company with a large caravan of merchants. I was a long time on the way, and suffered much, but endured all with patience, when I considered that I had nothing to fear from the seas, from pirates, from serpents, or from the other perils to which I had been exposed.

"All these fatigues ended at last, and I arrived safe at Bagdad. I went immediately to wait upon the caliph, and gave him an account of my embassy. That prince said he had been uneasy as I was so long in returning, but that he always hoped God would preserve me. When I told him the adventure of the elephants, he seemed much surprised, and would never have given any credit to it had he not known my veracity. He deemed this story, and the other relations I had given him, to be so curious, that he ordered one of his secretaries to write them in characters of gold, and lay them up in his treasury. I retired well satisfied with the honours I received, and the presents which he gave me; and ever since I have devoted myself wholly to my family, kindred and friends."

Sinbad here finished the relation of his seventh and last voyage, and then, addressing himself to Hindbad, "Well, friend," said he, "did you ever hear of any person that suffered so much as I have done, or of any mortal that has gone through so many vicissitudes? Is it not reasonable that, after all this, I should enjoy a quiet and pleasant life?" As he said this, Hindbad drew near to him, and kissing his hand, said, "I must acknowledge sir, that you have gone through many imminent dangers; my troubles are not comparable to yours; if they afflict me for a time, I comfort myself with the thoughts of the profit I get by them. You not only deserve a quiet life, but are worthy of all the riches you enjoy, because you make of them such a good and generous use. May you therefore continue to live in happiness till the day of your death!" Sinbad then gave him one hundred sequins more, received him into the number of his friends and desired him to quit his porter's employment, and come and dine every day with him, that he might have ample reason to remember Sinbad the voyager and his adventures

The Giver 

Lois Lowry 


Houghton Mifflin Company 


Boston 



For all the children 
To whom we entrust the future 


The Giver 




It was almost December, and Jonas was beginning to be 
frightened. No. Wrong word, Jonas thought. Frightened meant 
that deep, sickening feeling of something terrible about to 
happen. Frightened was the way he had felt a year ago when an 
unidentified aircraft had overflown the community twice. He 
had seen it both times. Squinting toward the sky, he had seen 
the sleek jet, almost a blur at its high speed, go past, and a 
second later heard the blast of sound that followed. Then one 
more time, a moment later, from the opposite direction, the 
same plane. 

At first, he had been only fascinated. He had never seen 
aircraft so close, for it was against the rules for Pilots to fly 
over the community. Occasionally, when supplies were de- 
livered by cargo planes to the landing field across the river, the 
children rode their bicycles to the riverbank and watched, 
intrigued, the unloading and then the takeoff directed to the 
west, always away from the community. 

But the aircraft a year ago had been different. It was not a 
squat, fat-bellied cargo plane but a needle-nosed single-pilot 
jet. Jonas, looking around anxiously, had seen others — adults 
as well as children — stop what they were doing and wait, 
confused, for an explanation of the frightening event. 


1 



Then all of the citizens had been ordered to go into the 
nearest building and stay there, immediately, the rasping 
voice through the speakers had said, leave your bicy- 
cles WHERE THEY ARE. 

Instantly, obediently, Jonas had dropped his bike on its 
side on the path behind his family’s dwelling. He had run 
indoors and stayed there, alone. His parents were both at 
work, and his little sister, Lily, was at the Childcare Center 
where she spent her after-school hours. 

Looking through the front window, he had seen no 
people: none of the busy afternoon crew of Street Cleaners, 
Landscape Workers, and Food Delivery people who usually 
populated the community at that time of day. He saw only 
the abandoned bikes here and there on their sides; an 
upturned wheel on one was still revolving slowly. 

He had been frightened then. The sense of his own 
community silent, waiting, had made his stomach churn. He 
had trembled. 

But it had been nothing. Within minutes the speakers had 
crackled again, and the voice, reassuring now and less 
urgent, had explained that a Pilot-in-Training had misread 
his navigational instructions and made a wrong turn. Des- 
perately the Pilot had been trying to make his way back 
before his error was noticed. 

NEEDLESS TO SAY, HE WILL BE RELEASED, the Voice 
had said, followed by silence. There was an ironic tone to 
that final message, as if the Speaker found it amusing; and 
Jonas had smiled a little, though he knew what a grim 
statement it had been. For a contributing citizen to be re- 
leased from the community was a final decision, a terrible 
punishment, an overwhelming statement of failure. 


Even the children were scolded if they used the term 
lightly at play, jeering at a teammate who missed a catch or 
stumbled in a race. Jonas had done it once, had shouted at 
his best friend, “That’s it, Asher! You’re released!” when 
Asher’s clumsy error had lost a match for his team. He had 
been taken aside for a brief and serious talk by the coach, 
had hung his head with guilt and embarrassment, and 
apologized to Asher after the game. 

Now, thinking about the feeling of fear as he pedaled 
home along the river path, he remembered that moment of 
palpable, stomach-sinking terror when the aircraft had 
streaked above. It was not what he was feeling now with 
December approaching. He searched for the right word to 
describe his own feeling. 

Jonas was careful about language. Not like his friend, 
Asher, who talked too fast and mixed things up, scrambling 
words and phrases until they were barely recognizable and 
often very funny. 

Jonas grinned, remembering the morning that Asher had 
dashed into the classroom, late as usual, arriving 
breathlessly in the middle of the chanting of the morning 
anthem. When the class took their seats at the conclusion of 
the patriotic hymn, Asher remained standing to make his 
public apology as was required. 

“I apologize for inconveniencing my learning commu- 
nity.” Asher ran through the standard apology phrase rap- 
idly, still catching his breath. The Instructor and class 
waited patiently for his explanation. The students had all 
been grinning, because they had listened to Asher’s expla- 
nations so many times before. 

“I left home at the correct time but when I was riding 


2 


3 



along near the hatchery, the crew was separating some 
salmon. 1 guess I just got distraught, watching them. 

“I apologize to my classmates,” Asher concluded. He 
smoothed his rumpled tunic and sat down. 

“We accept your apology, Asher.” The class recited the 
standard response in unison. Many of the students were 
biting their lips to keep from laughing. 

“I accept your apology, Asher,” the Instructor said. He 
was smiling. “And I thank you, because once again you 
have provided an opportunity for a lesson in language. 
‘Distraught’ is too strong an adjective to describe salmon- 
viewing.” He turned and wrote “distraught” on the in- 
structional board. Beside it he wrote “distracted.” 

Jonas, nearing his home now, smiled at the recollection. 
Thinking, still, as he wheeled his bike into its narrow port 
beside the door, he realized that frightened was the wrong 
word to describe his feelings, now that December was al- 
most here. It was too strong an adjective. 

He had waited a long time for this special December. 
Now that it was almost upon him, he wasn’t frightened, but 
he was . . . eager, he decided. He was eager for it to come. 
And he was excited, certainly. All of the Elevens were 
excited about the event that would be coming so soon. 

But there was a little shudder of nervousness when he 
thought about it, about what might happen. 

Apprehensive, Jonas decided. That’s what I am. 

“Who wants to be the first tonight, for feelings?” Jonas’s 
father asked, at the conclusion of their evening meal. 

It was one of the rituals, the evening telling of feelings. 


Sometimes Jonas and his sister, Lily, argued over turns, 
over who would get to go first. Their parents, of course, 
were part of the ritual; they, too, told their feelings each 
evening. But like all parents — all adults — they didn’t 
fight and wheedle for their turn. 

Nor did Jonas, tonight. His feelings were too compli- 
cated this evening. He wanted to share them, but he wasn’t 
eager to begin the process of sifting through his own 
complicated emotions, even with the help that he knew his 
parents could give. 

“You go, Lily,” he said, seeing his sister, who was much 
younger — only a Seven — wiggling with impatience in 
her chair. 

“I felt very angry this afternoon,” Lily announced. “My 
Childcare group was at the play area, and we had a visiting 
group of Sevens, and they didn’t obey the rules at all. One 
of them — a male; I don’t know his name — kept going 
right to the front of the line for the slide, even though the 
rest of us were all waiting. I felt so angry at him. I made my 
hand into a fist, like this.” She held up a clenched fist and 
the rest of the family smiled at her small defiant gesture. 

“Why do you think the visitors didn’t obey the rules?” 
Mother asked. 

Lily considered, and shook her head. “I don’t know. 
They acted like . . . like ...” 

“Animals?” Jonas suggested. He laughed. 

“That’s right,” Lily said, laughing too. “Like animals.” 
Neither child knew what the word meant, exactly, but it 
was often used to describe someone uneducated or clumsy, 
someone who didn’t fit in. 


4 


5 



“Where were the visitors from?” Father asked. 

Lily frowned, trying to remember. “Our leader told us, 
when he made the welcome speech, but I can’t remember. 
I guess I wasn’t paying attention. It was from another 
community. They had to leave very early, and they had 
their midday meal on the bus.” 

Mother nodded. “Do you think it’s possible that their 
rules may be different? And so they simply didn’t know 
what your play area rules were?” 

Lily shrugged, and nodded. “I suppose.” 

“You’ve visited other communities, haven’t you?” Jonas 
asked. “My group has, often.” 

Lily nodded again. “When we were Sixes, we went and 
shared a whole school day with a group of Sixes in their 
community.” 

“How did you feel when you were there?” 

Lily frowned. “I felt strange. Because their methods 
were different. They were learning usages that my group 
hadn’t learned yet, so we felt stupid.” 

Father was listening with interest. “I’m thinking, Lily,” 
he said, “about the boy who didn’t obey the rules today. 
Do you think it’s possible that he felt strange and stupid, 
being in a new place with rules that he didn’t know 
about?” 

Lily pondered that. “Yes,” she said, finally. 

“I feel a little sorry for him,” Jonas said, “even though I 
don’t even know him. I feel sorry for anyone who is in a 
place where he feels strange and stupid.” 

“How do you feel now, Lily?” Father asked. “Still 
angry?” 

“I guess not,” Lily decided. “I guess I feel a little sorry 
for him. And sorry I made a fist.” She grinned. 


Jonas smiled back at his sister. Lily’s feelings were 
always straightforward, fairly simple, usually easy to re- 
solve. He guessed that his own had been, too, when he was 
a Seven. 

He listened politely, though not very attentively, while 
his father took his turn, describing a feeling of worry that 
he’d had that day at work: a concern about one of the 
newchildren who wasn’t doing well. Jonas’s father’s title 
was Nurturer. He and the other Nurturers were responsible 
for all the physical and emotional needs of every new-child 
during its earliest life. It was a very important job, Jonas 
knew, but it wasn’t one that interested him much. 

“What gender is it?” Lily asked. 

“Male,” Father said. “He’s a sweet little male with a 
lovely disposition. But he isn’t growing as fast as he 
should, and he doesn’t sleep soundly. We have him in the 
extra care section for supplementary nurturing, but the 
committee’s beginning to talk about releasing him.” 

“Oh, no, ” Mother murmured sympathetically. “I know 
how sad that must make you feel.” 

Jonas and Lily both nodded sympathetically as well. 
Release of newchildren was always sad, because they 
hadn’t had a chance to enjoy life within the community yet. 
And they hadn’t done anything wrong. 

There were only two occasions of release which were not 
punishment. Release of the elderly, which was a time of 
celebration for a life well and fully lived; and release of a 
newchild, which always brought a sense of what-could-we- 
have-done. This was especially troubling for the Nurturers, 
like Father, who felt they had failed somehow. But it 
happened very rarely. 

“Well,” Father said, “I’m going to keep trying. I may 


6 


7 



ask the committee for permission to bring him here at night, 
if you don’t mind. You know what the night-crew Nurturers 
are like. 1 think this little guy needs something extra.” 

“Of course,” Mother said, and Jonas and Lily nodded. 
They had heard Father complain about the night crew be- 
fore. It was a lesser job, night-crew nurturing, assigned to 
those who lacked the interest or skills or insight for the 
more vital jobs of the daytime hours. Most of the people on 
the night crew had not even been given spouses because 
they lacked, somehow, the essential capacity to connect to 
others, which was required for the creation of a family unit. 

“Maybe we could even keep him,” Lily suggested 
sweetly, trying to look innocent. The look was fake, Jonas 
knew; they all knew. 

“Lily,” Mother reminded her, smiling, “you know the 
rules.” 

Two children — one male, one female — to each family 
unit. It was written very clearly in the rules. 

Lily giggled. “Well,” she said, “I thought maybe just this 
once.” 

Next, Mother, who held a prominent position at the De- 
partment of Justice, talked about her feelings. Today a re- 
peat offender had been brought before her, someone who 
had broken the rules before. Someone who she hoped had 
been adequately and fairly punished, and who had been 
restored to his place: to his job, his home, his family unit. 
To see him brought before her a second time caused her 
overwhelming feelings of frustration and anger. And even 


guilt, that she hadn’t made a difference in his life. 

“I feel frightened, too, for him,” she confessed. “You 
know that there’s no third chance. The rules say that if 
there’s a third transgression, he simply has to be released.” 
Jonas shivered. He knew it happened. There was even a boy 
in his group of Elevens whose father had been released years 
before. No one ever mentioned it; the disgrace was 
unspeakable. It was hard to imagine. 

Lily stood up and went to her mother. She stroked her 
mother’s arm. 

From his place at the table, Father reached over and took 
her hand. Jonas reached for the other. 

One by one, they comforted her. Soon she smiled, 
thanked them, and murmured that she felt soothed. 

The ritual continued. “Jonas?” Father asked. “You’re 
last, tonight.” 

Jonas sighed. This evening he almost would have pre- 
ferred to keep his feelings hidden. But it was, of course, 
against the rules. 

“I’m feeling apprehensive,” he confessed, glad that the 
appropriate descriptive word had finally come to him. 

“Why is that, son?” His father looked concerned. 

“I know there’s really nothing to worry about,” Jonas 
explained, “and that every adult has been through it. I know 
you have, Father, and you too, Mother. But it’s the 
Ceremony that I’m apprehensive about. It’s almost De- 
cember.” 

Lily looked up, her eyes wide. “The Ceremony of 
Twelve,” she whispered in an awed voice. Even the small- 
est children — Lily’s age and younger — knew that it lay 
in the future for each of them. 


9 



“I’m glad you told us of your feelings,” Father said. 

“Lily,” Mother said, beckoning to the little girl, “Go on 
now and get into your nightclothes. Father and I are going 
to stay here and talk to Jonas for a while.” 

Lily sighed, but obediently she got down from her chair. 
“Privately?” she asked. 

Mother nodded. “Yes,” she said, “this talk will be a 
private one with Jonas.” 


10 


2 


Jonas watched as his father poured a fresh cup of coffee. He 
waited. 

“You know,” his father finally said, “every December 
was exciting to me when I was young. And it has been for 
you and Lily, too, I’m sure. Each December brings such 
changes.” 

Jonas nodded. He could remember the Decembers back to 
when he had become, well, probably a Four. The earlier ones 
were lost to him. But he observed them each year, and he 
remembered Lily’s earliest Decembers. He remembered 
when his family received Lily, the day she was named, the 
day that she had become a One. 

The Ceremony for the Ones was always noisy and fun. 
Each December, all the newchildren born in the previous 
year turned One. One at a time — there were always fifty in 
each year’s group, if none had been released — they had 
been brought to the stage by the Nurturers who had cared for 
them since birth. Some were already walking, wobbly on 
their unsteady legs; others were no more than a few days old, 
wrapped in blankets, held by their Nurturers. 

“I enjoy the Naming,” Jonas said. 

His mother agreed, smiling. “The year we got Lily, we 


11 



knew, of course, that we’d receive our female, because 
we’d made our application and been approved. But I’d been 
wondering and wondering what her name would be. 

“I could have sneaked a look at the list prior to the cer- 
emony,” Father confided. “The committee always makes 
the list in advance, and it’s right there in the office at the 
Nurturing Center. 

“As a matter of fact,” he went on, “I feel a little guilty 
about this. But I did go in this afternoon and looked to see 
if this year’s Naming list had been made yet. It was right 
there in the office, and I looked up number Thirty-six — 
that’s the little guy I’ve been concerned about — because it 
occurred to me that it might enhance his nurturing if I could 
call him by a name. Just privately, of course, when no one 
else is around.” 

“Did you find it?” Jonas asked. He was fascinated. It 
didn’t seem a terribly important rule, but the fact that his 
father had broken a rule at all awed him. He glanced at his 
mother, the one responsible for adherence to the rules, and 
was relieved that she was smiling. 

His father nodded. “His name — if he makes it to the 
Naming without being released, of course — is to be Ga- 
briel. So I whisper that to him when I feed him every four 
hours, and during exercise and playtime. If no one can hear 
me. 

“I call him Gabe, actually,” he said, and grinned. 

“Gabe.” Jonas tried it out. A good name, he decided. 

Though Jonas had only become a Five the year that they 
acquired Lily and learned her name, he remembered the 
excitement, the conversations at home, wondering about 
her: how she would look, who she would be, how 


she would fit into their established family unit. He re- 
membered climbing the steps to the stage with his parents, 
his father by his side that year instead of with the Nur- 
turers, since it was the year that he would be given a new- 
child of his own. 

He remembered his mother taking the newchild, his 
sister, into her arms, while the document was read to the 
assembled family units. “Newchild Twenty-three,” the 
Namer had read. “Lily.” 

He remembered his father’s look of delight, and that his 
father had whispered, “She’s one of my favorites. I was 
hoping for her to be the one.” The crowd had clapped, and 
Jonas had grinned. He liked his sister’s name. Lily, barely 
awake, had waved her small fist. Then they had stepped 
down to make room for the next family unit. 

“When I was an Eleven,” his father said now, “as you 
are, Jonas, I was very impatient, waiting for the Ceremony 
of Twelve. It’s a long two days. I remember that I enjoyed 
the Ones, as I always do, but that I didn’t pay much at- 
tention to the other ceremonies, except for my sister’s. She 
became a Nine that year, and got her bicycle. I’d been 
teaching her to ride mine, even though technically I wasn’t 
supposed to.” 

Jonas laughed. It was one of the few rules that was not 
taken very seriously and was almost always broken. The 
children all received their bicycles at Nine; they were not 
allowed to ride bicycles before then. But almost always, the 
older brothers and sisters had secretly taught the younger 
ones. Jonas had been thinking already about teaching Lily. 

There was talk about changing the rule and giving the 
bicycles at an earlier age. A committee was studying 


12 


13 



the idea. When something went to a committee for study, 
the people always joked about it. They said that the com- 
mittee members would become Elders by the time the rule 
change was made. 

Rules were very hard to change. Sometimes, if it was a 
very important rule — unlike the one governing the age for 
bicycles — it would have to go, eventually, to The Re- 
ceiver for a decision. The Receiver was the most important 
Elder. Jonas had never even seen him, that he knew of; 
someone in a position of such importance lived and worked 
alone. But the committee would never bother The Receiver 
with a question about bicycles; they would simply fret and 
argue about it themselves for years, until the citizens forgot 
that it had ever gone to them for study. 

His father continued. “So I watched and cheered when 
my sister, Katya, became a Nine and removed her hair 
ribbons and got her bicycle,” Father went on. “Then I didn’t 
pay much attention to the Tens and Elevens. And finally, at 
the end of the second day, which seemed to go on forever, it 
was my turn. It was the Ceremony of Twelve.” 

Jonas shivered. He pictured his father, who must have 
been a shy and quiet boy, for he was a shy and quiet man, 
seated with his group, waiting to be called to the stage. 

The Ceremony of Twelve was the last of the Ceremonies. 
The most important. 

“I remember how proud my parents looked — and my 
sister, too; even though she wanted to be out riding the bi- 
cycle publicly, she stopped fidgeting and was very still and 
attentive when my turn came. 

“But to be honest, Jonas,” his father said, “for me there 


was not the element of suspense that there is with your 
Ceremony. Because I was already fairly certain of what my 
Assignment was to be.” 

Jonas was surprised. There was no way, really, to know 
in advance. It was a secret selection, made by the leaders of 
the community, the Committee of Elders, who took the 
responsibility so seriously that there were never even any 
jokes made about Assignments. 

His mother seemed surprised, too. “How could you have 
known?” she asked. 

His father smiled his gentle smile. “Well, it was clear to 
me — and my parents later confessed that it had been ob- 
vious to them, too — what my aptitude was. I had always 
loved the newchildren more than anything. When my 
friends in my age group were holding bicycle races, or 
building toy vehicles or bridges with their construction 
sets, or — “ 

“All the things I do with my friends,” Jonas pointed out, 
and his mother nodded in agreement. 

“I always participated, of course, because as children we 
must experience all of those things. And I studied hard in 
school, as you do, Jonas. But again and again, during free 
time, I found myself drawn to the newchildren. I spent al- 
most all of my volunteer hours helping in the Nurturing 
Center. Of course the Elders knew that, from their obser- 
vation.” 

Jonas nodded. During the past year he had been aware of 
the increasing level of observation. In school, at recreation 
time, and during volunteer hours, he had noticed the Elders 
watching him and the other Elevens. He had seen them 
taking notes. He knew, too, that the Elders were 


14 


15 



meeting for long hours with all of the instructors that he 
and the other Elevens had had during their years of school. 

“So I expected it, and I was pleased, but not at all sur- 
prised, when my Assignment was announced as Nurturer,” 
Father explained. 

“Did everyone applaud, even though they weren’t sur- 
prised?” Jonas asked. 

“Oh, of course. They were happy for me, that my As- 
signment was what I wanted most. I felt very fortunate.” 
His father smiled. 

“Were any of the Elevens disappointed, your year?” 
Jonas asked. Unlike his father, he had no idea what his 
Assignment would be. But he knew that some would dis- 
appoint him. Though he respected his father’s work, Nur- 
turer would not be his wish. And he didn’t envy Laborers 
at all. 

His father thought. “No, I don’t think so. Of course the 
Elders are so careful in their observations and selections.” 

“1 think it’s probably the most important job in our 
community,” his mother commented. 

“My friend Yoshiko was surprised by her selection as 
Doctor,” Father said, “but she was thrilled. And let’s see, 
there was Andrei — I remember that when we were boys 
he never wanted to do physical things. He spent all the 
recreation time he could with his construction set, and his 
volunteer hours were always on building sites. The Elders 
knew that, of course. Andrei was given the Assignment of 
Engineer and he was delighted.” 

“Andrei later designed the bridge that crosses the river 
to the west of town,” Jonas’s mother said. “It wasn’t there 
when we were children.” 


“There are very rarely disappointments, Jonas. I don’t 
think you need to worry about that,” his father reassured 
him. “And if there are, you know there’s an appeal proc- 
ess.” But they all laughed at that — an appeal went to a 
committee for study. 

“I worry a little about Asher’s Assignment,” Jonas con- 
fessed. “Asher’s such fun. But he doesn’t really have any 
serious interests. He makes a game out of everything.” 

His father chuckled. “You know,” he said, “I re- 
member when Asher was a newchild at the Nurturing 
Center, before he was named. He never cried. He giggled 
and laughed at everything. All of us on the staff enjoyed 
nurturing Asher.” 

“The Elders know Asher,” his mother said. “They’ll 
find exactly the right Assignment for him. I don’t think 
you need to worry about him. But, Jonas, let me warn you 
about something that may not have occurred to you. I 
know I didn’t think about it until after my Ceremony of 
Twelve.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Well, it’s the last of the Ceremonies, as you know. 
After Twelve, age isn’t important. Most of us even lose 
track of how old we are as time passes, though the infor- 
mation is in the Hall of Open Records, and we could go 
and look it up if we wanted to. What’s important is the 
preparation for adult life, and the training you’ll receive in 
your Assignment.” 

“I know that,” Jonas said. “Everyone knows that.” 

“But it means,” his mother went on, “that you’ll move 
into a new group. And each of your friends will. You’ll no 
longer be spending your time with your group of Elevens. 
After the Ceremony of Twelve, you’ll be with your Assign- 


16 


17 



ment group, with those in training. No more volunteer 
hours. No more recreation hours. So your friends will no 
longer be as close.” 

Jonas shook his head. “Asher and I will always be 
friends,” he said firmly. “And there will still be school.” 

“That’s true,” his father agreed. “But what your mother 
said is true as well. There will be changes.” 

“Good changes, though,” his mother pointed out. “After 
my Ceremony of Twelve, 1 missed my childhood 
recreation. But when I entered my training for Law and 
Justice, 1 found myself with people who shared my inter- 
ests. I made friends on a new level, friends of all ages.” 

“Did you still play at all, after Twelve?” Jonas asked. 

“Occasionally,” his mother replied. “But it didn’t seem 
as important to me.” 

“1 did,” his father said, laughing. “I still do. Every day, 
at the Nurturing Center, I play bounce-on-the-knee, and 
peek-a-boo, and hug-the-teddy.” He reached over and 
stroked Jonas’s neatly trimmed hair. “Fun doesn’t end 
when you become Twelve.” 

Lily appeared, wearing her nightclothes, in the door- 
way. She gave an impatient sigh. “This is certainly a very 
long private conversation,” she said. “And there are certain 
people waiting for their comfort object.” 

“Lily,” her mother said fondly, “you’re very close to 
being an Eight, and when you’re an Eight, your comfort 
object will be taken away. It will be recycled to the 
younger children. You should be starting to go off to sleep 
without it.” 

But her father had already gone to the shelf and taken 
down the stuffed elephant which was kept there. Many of 


the comfort objects, like Lily’s, were soft, stuffed, imagi- 
nary creatures. Jonas’s had been called a bear. 

“Here you are. Lily-billy,” he said. “I’ll come help you 
remove your hair ribbons.” 

Jonas and his mother rolled their eyes, yet they watched 
affectionately as Lily and her father headed to her sleeping- 
room with the stuffed elephant that had been given to her 
as her comfort object when she was born. His mother 
moved to her big desk and opened her briefcase; her work 
never seemed to end, even when she was at home in the 
evening. Jonas went to his own desk and began to sort 
through his school papers for the evening’s assignment. But 
his mind was still on December and the coming Ceremony. 

Though he had been reassured by the talk with his par- 
ents, he hadn’t the slightest idea what Assignment the 
Elders would be selecting for his future, or how he might 
feel about it when the day came. 


19 



3 


“Oh, look!” Lily squealed in delight. “Isn’t he cute? 
Look how tiny he is! And he has funny eyes like yours, 
Jonas!” Jonas glared at her. He didn’t like it that she had 
mentioned his eyes. He waited for his father to chastise 
Lily. But Father was busy unstrapping the carrying basket 
from the back of his bicycle. Jonas walked over to look. 

It was the first thing Jonas noticed as he looked at the 
newchild peering up curiously from the basket. The pale 
eyes. 

Almost every citizen in the community had dark eyes. 
His parents did, and Lily did, and so did all of his group 
members and friends. But there were a few exceptions: 
Jonas himself, and a female Five who he had noticed had 
the different, lighter eyes. No one mentioned such things; it 
was not a rule, but was considered rude to call attention to 
things that were unsettling or different about individuals. 
Lily, he decided, would have to learn that soon, or she 
would be called in for chastisement because of her in- 
sensitive chatter. 

Father put his bike into its port. Then he picked up the 
basket and carried it into the house. Lily followed be- 


hind, but she glanced back over her shoulder at Jonas and 
teased, “Maybe he had the same Birthmother as you.” 

Jonas shrugged. He followed them inside. But he had 
been startled by the newchild’ s eyes. Mirrors were rare in 
the community; they weren’t forbidden, but there was no 
real need of them, and Jonas had simply never bothered to 
look at himself very often even when he found himself in a 
location where a mirror existed. Now, seeing the newchild 
and its expression, he was reminded that the light eyes 
were not only a rarity but gave the one who had them a 
certain look — what was it? Depth, he decided; as if one 
were looking into the clear water of the river, down to the 
bottom, where things might lurk which hadn’t been dis- 
covered yet. He felt self-conscious, realizing that he, too, 
had that look. 

He went to his desk, pretending not to be interested in 
the newchild. On the other side of the room, Mother and 
Lily were bending over to watch as Father unwrapped its 
blanket. 

“What’s his comfort object called?” Lily asked, picking 
up the stuffed creature which had been placed beside the 
newchild in his basket. 

Father glanced at it. “Hippo,” he said. 

Lily giggled at the strange word. “Hippo,” she repeated, 
and put the comfort object down again. She peered at the 
unwrapped newchild, who waved his arms. 

“I think newchildren are so cute,” Lily sighed. “I hope I 
get assigned to be a Birthmother.” 

“Lily!” Mother spoke very sharply. “Don’t say that. 
There’s very little honor in that Assignment.” 

“But I was talking to Natasha. You know the Ten who 


20 


21 



lives around the corner? She does some of her volunteer 
hours at the Birthing Center. And she told me that the 
Birthmothers get wonderful food, and they have very gen- 
tle exercise periods, and most of the time they just play 
games and amuse themselves while they’re waiting. I think 
I’d like that,” Lily said petulantly. 

“Three years,” Mother told her firmly. “Three births, 
and that’s all. After that they are Laborers for the rest of 
their adult lives, until the day that they enter the House of 
the Old. Is that what you want, Lily? Three lazy years, and 
then hard physical labor until you are old?” 

“Well, no, I guess not,” Lily acknowledged reluctantly. 

Father turned the newchild onto his tummy in the bas- 
ket. He sat beside it and rubbed its small back with a 
rhythmic motion. “Anyway, Lily-billy,” he said affection- 
ately, “the Birthmothers never even get to see newchildren. 
If you enjoy the little ones so much, you should hope for an 
Assignment as Nurturer.” 

“When you’re an Eight and start your volunteer hours, 
you can try some at the Nurturing Center,” Mother sug- 
gested. 

“Yes, I think I will,” Lily said. She knelt beside the bas- 
ket. “What did you say his name is? Gabriel? Hello, Ga- 
briel,” she said in a singsong voice. Then she giggled. 
“Ooops,” she whispered. “I think he’s asleep. I guess I’d 
better be quiet.” 

Jonas turned to the school assignments on his desk. 
Some chance of that, he thought. Lily was never quiet. 
Probably she should hope for an Assignment as Speaker, so 
that she could sit in the office with the microphone all day, 
making announcements. He laughed silently to him-self, 
picturing his sister droning on in the self-important 


voice that all the Speakers seemed to develop, saying 
things like, ATTENTION. THIS IS A REMINDER TO 
FEMALES UNDER NINE THAT HAIR RIBBONS ARE 
TO BE NEATLY TIED AT ALL TIMES. 

He turned toward Lily and noticed to his satisfaction 
that her ribbons were, as usual, undone and dangling. 
There would be an announcement like that quite soon, he 
felt certain, and it would be directed mainly at Lily, though 
her name, of course, would not be mentioned. Everyone 
would know. 

Everyone had known, he remembered with humiliation, 
that the announcement ATTENTION. THIS IS A RE- 
MINDER TO MALE ELEVENS THAT OBJECTS ARE 
NOT TO BE REMOVED FROM THE RECREATION 
AREA AND THAT SNACKS ARE TO BE EATEN, 
NOT HOARDED had been specifically directed at him, 
the day last month that he had taken an apple home. No 
one had mentioned it, not even his parents, because the 
public announcement had been sufficient to produce the 
appropriate remorse. He had, of course, disposed of the 
apple and made his apology to the Recreation Director the 
next morning, before school. 

Jonas thought again about that incident. He was still 
bewildered by it. Not by the announcement or the neces- 
sary apology; those were standard procedures, and he had 
deserved them — but by the incident itself. He probably 
should have brought up his feeling of bewilderment that 
very evening when the family unit had shared their feel- 
ings of the day. But he had not been able to sort out and 
put words to the source of his confusion, so he had let it 
pass. 

It had happened during the recreation period, when he 
had been playing with Asher. Jonas had casually picked 


22 


23 



up an apple from the basket where the snacks were kept, 
and had thrown it to his friend. Asher had thrown it back, 
and they had begun a simple game of catch. 

There had been nothing special about it; it was an activ- 
ity that he had performed countless times: throw, catch; 
throw, catch. It was effortless for Jonas, and even boring, 
though Asher enjoyed it, and playing catch was a required 
activity for Asher because it would improve his hand-eye 
coordination, which was not up to standards. 

But suddenly Jonas had noticed, following the path of 
the apple through the air with his eyes, that the piece of 
fruit had — well, this was the part that he couldn’t ade- 
quately understand — the apple had changed. Just for an 
instant. It had changed in mid-air, he remembered. Then it 
was in his hand, and he looked at it carefully, but it was the 
same apple. Unchanged. The same size and shape: a perfect 
sphere. The same nondescript shade, about the same shade 
as his own tunic. 

There was absolutely nothing remarkable about that 
apple. He had tossed it back and forth between his hands a 
few times, then thrown it again to Asher. And again — in 
the air, for an instant only — it had changed. 

It had happened four times. Jonas had blinked, looked 
around, and then tested his eyesight, squinting at the small 
print on the identification badge attached to his tunic. He 
read his name quite clearly. He could also clearly see Asher 
at the other end of the throwing area. And he had had no 
problem catching the apple. 

Jonas had been completely mystified. 

“Ash?” he had called. “Does anything seem strange to 
you? About the apple?” 

“Yes,” Asher called back, laughing. “It jumps out of 


my hand onto the ground!” Asher had just dropped it once 
again. 

So Jonas laughed too, and with his laughter tried to ig- 
nore his uneasy conviction that something had happened. 
But he had taken the apple home, against the recreation 
area rules. That evening, before his parents and Lily arrived 
at the dwelling, he had held it in his hands and looked at it 
carefully. It was slightly bruised now, because Asher had 
dropped it several times. But there was nothing at all 
unusual about the apple. 

He had held a magnifying glass to it. He had tossed it 
several times across the room, watching, and then rolled it 
around and around on his desktop, waiting for the thing to 
happen again. 

But it hadn’t. The only thing that happened was the 
announcement later that evening over the speaker, the an- 
nouncement that had singled him out without using his 
name, that had caused both of his parents to glance mean- 
ingfully at his desk where the apple still lay. 

Now, sitting at his desk, staring at his schoolwork as his 
family hovered over the newchild in its basket, he shook 
his head, trying to forget the odd incident. He forced him- 
self to arrange his papers and try to study a little before the 
evening meal. The newchild, Gabriel, stirred and whim- 
pered, and Father spoke softly to Lily, explaining the feed- 
ing procedure as he opened the container that held the 
formula and equipment. 

The evening proceeded as all evenings did in the family 
unit, in the dwelling, in the community: quiet, reflective, a 
time for renewal and preparation for the day to come. It 
was different only in the addition to it of the newchild with 
his pale, solemn, knowing eyes. 


24 


25 



4 


Jonas rode at a leisurely pace, glancing at the bikeports 
beside the buildings to see if he could spot Asher’s. He 
didn’t often do his volunteer hours with his friend because 
Asher frequently fooled around and made serious work a 
little difficult. But now, with Twelve coming so soon and 
the volunteer hours ending, it didn’t seem to matter. 

The freedom to choose where to spend those hours had 
always seemed a wonderful luxury to Jonas; other hours of 
the day were so carefully regulated. 

He remembered when he had become an Eight, as Lily 
would do shortly, and had been faced with that freedom of 
choice. The Eights always set out on their first volunteer 
hour a little nervously, giggling and staying in groups of 
friends. They almost invariably did their hours on Recre- 
ation Duty first, helping with the younger ones in a place 
where they still felt comfortable. But with guidance, as 
they developed self-confidence and maturity, they moved 
on to other jobs, gravitating toward those that would suit 
their own interests and skills. 

A male Eleven named Benjamin had done his entire 
nearly-Four years in the Rehabilitation Center, working 
with citizens who had been injured. It was rumored that he 
was as skilled now as the Rehabilitation Directors 


themselves, and that he had even developed some ma- 
chines and methods to hasten rehabilitation. There was no 
doubt that Benjamin would receive his Assignment to that 
field and would probably be permitted to bypass most of 
the training. 

Jonas was impressed by the things Benjamin had 
achieved. He knew him, of course, since they had always 
been groupmates, but they had never talked about the boy’s 
accomplishments because such a conversation would have 
been awkward for Benjamin. There was never any 
comfortable way to mention or discuss one’s successes 
without breaking the rule against bragging, even if one 
didn’t mean to. It was a minor rule, rather like rudeness, 
punishable only by gentle chastisement. But still. Better to 
steer clear of an occasion governed by a rule which would 
be so easy to break. 

The area of dwellings behind him, Jonas rode past the 
community structures, hoping to spot Asher’s bicycle 
parked beside one of the small factories or office buildings. 
He passed the Childcare Center where Lily stayed after 
school, and the play areas surrounding it. He rode through 
the Central Plaza and the large Auditorium where public 
meetings were held. 

Jonas slowed and looked at the nametags on the bicycles 
lined up outside the Nurturing Center. Then he checked 
those outside Food Distribution; it was always fun to help 
with the deliveries, and he hoped he would find his friend 
there so that they could go together on the daily rounds, 
carrying the cartons of supplies into the dwellings of the 
community. But he finally found Asher’s bicycle — 
leaning, as usual, instead of upright in its port, as it should 
have been — at the House of the Old. 


26 


27 



There was only one other child’s bicycle there, that of a 
female Eleven named Fiona. Jonas liked Fiona. She was a 
good student, quiet and polite, but she had a sense of fun as 
well, and it didn’t surprise him that she was working with 
Asher today. He parked his bicycle neatly in the port beside 
theirs and entered the building. 

“Hello, Jonas,” the attendant at the front desk said. She 
handed him the sign-up sheet and stamped her own official 
seal beside his signature. All of his volunteer hours would 
be carefully tabulated at the Hall of Open Records. Once, 
long ago, it was whispered among the children, an Eleven 
had arrived at the Ceremony of Twelve only to hear a public 
announcement that he had not completed the required 
number of volunteer hours and would not, there-fore, be 
given his Assignment. He had been permitted an additional 
month in which to complete the hours, and then given his 
Assignment privately, with no applause, no celebration: a 
disgrace that had clouded his entire future. 

“It’s good to have some volunteers here today,” the at- 
tendant told him. “We celebrated a release this morning, 
and that always throws the schedule off a little, so things 
get backed up.” She looked at a printed sheet. “Fet’s see. 
Asher and Fiona are helping in the bathing room. Why 
don’t you join them there? You know where it is, don’t 
you?” 

Jonas nodded, thanked her, and walked down the long 
hallway. He glanced into the rooms on either side. The Old 
were sitting quietly, some visiting and talking with one 
another, others doing handwork and simple crafts. A few 
were asleep. Each room was comfortably furnished, the 
floors covered with thick carpeting. It was a serene and 


slow-paced place, unlike the busy centers of manufacture 
and distribution where the daily work of the community 
occurred. 

Jonas was glad that he had, over the years, chosen to do 
his hours in a variety of places so that he could experience 
the differences. He realized, though, that not focusing on 
one area meant he was left with not the slightest idea — 
not even a guess — of what his Assignment would be. 

He laughed softly. Thinking about the Ceremony again, 
Jonas? He teased himself. But he suspected that with the 
date so near, probably all of his friends were, too. 

He passed a Caretaker walking slowly with one of the 
Old in the hall. “Hello, Jonas,” the young uniformed man 
said, smiling pleasantly. The woman beside him, whose 
arm he held, was hunched over as she shuffled along in her 
soft slippers. She looked toward Jonas and smiled, but her 
dark eyes were clouded and blank. He realized she was 
blind. 

He entered the bathing room with its warm moist air and 
scent of cleansing lotions. He removed his tunic, hung it 
carefully on a wall hook, and put on the volunteer’s smock 
that was folded on a shelf. 

“Hi, Jonas!” Asher called from the corner where he was 
kneeling beside a tub. Jonas saw Fiona nearby, at a differ- 
ent tub. She looked up and smiled at him, but she was busy, 
gently washing a man who lay in the warm water. 

Jonas greeted them and the caretaking attendants at 
work nearby. Then he went to the row of padded lounging 
chairs where others of the Old were waiting. He had 
worked here before; he knew what to do. 

“Your turn, Farissa,” he said, reading the nametag on 


28 


29 



the woman’s robe. “I’ll just start the water and then help 
you up.” He pressed the button on a nearby empty tub and 
watched as the warm water flowed in through the many 
small openings on the sides. The tub would be filled in a 
minute and the water flow would stop automatically. 

He helped the woman from the chair, led her to the tub, 
removed her robe, and steadied her with his hand on her 
arm as she stepped in and lowered herself. She leaned back 
and sighed with pleasure, her head on a soft cushioned 
headrest. 

“Comfortable?” he asked, and she nodded, her eyes 
closed. Jonas squeezed cleansing lotion onto the clean 
sponge at the edge of the tub and began to wash her frail 
body. 

Last night he had watched as his father bathed the new- 
child. This was much the same: the fragile skin, the sooth- 
ing water, the gentle motion of his hand, slippery with 
soap. The relaxed, peaceful smile on the woman’s face re- 
minded him of Gabriel being bathed. 

And the nakedness, too. It was against the rules for 
children or adults to look at another’s nakedness; but the 
rule did not apply to newchildren or the Old. Jonas was 
glad. It was a nuisance to keep oneself covered while 
changing for games, and the required apology if one had 
by mistake glimpsed another’s body was always awkward. 
He couldn’t see why it was necessary. He liked the feeling 
of safety here in this warm and quiet room; he liked the 
expression of trust on the woman’s face as she lay in the 
water unprotected, exposed, and free. 

From the corner of his eye he could see his friend Fiona 


help the old man from the tub and tenderly pat his thin, 
naked body dry with an absorbent cloth. She helped him 
into his robe. 

Jonas thought Larissa had drifted into sleep, as the Old 
often did, and he was careful to keep his motions steady 
and gentle so he wouldn’t wake her. He was surprised 
when she spoke, her eyes still closed. 

“This morning we celebrated the release of Roberto,” 
she told him. “It was wonderful.” 

“I knew Roberto!” Jonas said. “I helped with his feed- 
ing the last time I was here, just a few weeks ago. He was a 
very interesting man.” 

Larissa opened her eyes happily. “They told his whole 
life before they released him,” she said. “They always do. 
But to be honest,” she whispered with a mischievous look, 
“some of the tellings are a little boring. I’ve even seen 
some of the Old fall asleep during tellings — when they 
released Edna recently. Did you know Edna?” 

Jonas shook his head. He couldn’t recall anyone named 
Edna. 

“Well, they tried to make her life sound meaningful. 
And of course,” she added primly, “all lives are meaning- 
ful, I don’t mean that they aren’t. But Edna. My goodness. 
She was a Birthmother, and then she worked in Food 
Production for years, until she came here. She never even 
had a family unit.” 

Larissa lifted her head and looked around to make sure 
no one else was listening. Then she confided, “I don’t 
think Edna was very smart.” 

Jonas laughed. He rinsed her left arm, laid it back into 
the water, and began to wash her feet. She murmured 


30 


31 



with pleasure as he massaged her feet with the sponge. 

“But Roberto’s life was wonderful,” Larissa went on, 
after a moment. “He had been an Instructor of Elevens — 
you know how important that is — and he’d been on the 
Planning Committee. And — goodness, I don’t know how 
he found the time — he also raised two very successful 
children, and he was also the one who did the landscaping 
design for the Central Plaza. He didn’t do the actual labor, 
of course.” 

“Now your back. Lean forward and I’ll help you sit up.” 
Jonas put his arm around her and supported her as she sat. 
He squeezed the sponge against her back and began to rub 
her sharp-boned shoulders. “Tell me about the celebration.” 

“Well, there was the telling of his life. That is always 
first. Then the toast. We all raised our glasses and cheered. 
We chanted the anthem. He made a lovely good-bye 
speech. And several of us made little speeches wishing him 
well. I didn’t, though. I’ve never been fond of public 
speaking. 

“He was thrilled. You should have seen the look on his 
face when they let him go.” 

Jonas slowed the strokes of his hand on her back 
thoughtfully. “Larissa,” he asked, “what happens when they 
make the actual release? Where exactly did Roberto go?” 

She lifted her bare wet shoulders in a small shrug. “I 
don’t know. I don’t think anybody does, except the com- 
mittee. He just bowed to all of us and then walked, like 
they all do, through the special door in the Releasing 
Room. But you should have seen his look. Pure happiness, 
I’d call it.” 


Jonas grinned. “I wish I’d been there to see it.” 

Larissa frowned. “I don’t know why they don’t let chil- 
dren come. Not enough room, I guess. They should en- 
large the Releasing Room.” 

“We’ll have to suggest that to the committee. Maybe 
they’d study it,” Jonas said slyly, and Larissa chortled with 
laughter. 

“Right!” she hooted, and Jonas helped her from the tub. 


32 


33 



5 


Usually, at the morning ritual when the family members 
told their dreams, Jonas didn’t contribute much. He rarely 
dreamed. Sometimes he awoke with a feeling of fragments 
afloat in his sleep, but he couldn’t seem to grasp them and 
put them together into something worthy of telling at the 
ritual. 

But this morning was different. He had dreamed very 
vividly the night before. 

His mind wandered while Lily, as usual, recounted a 
lengthy dream, this one a frightening one in which she had, 
against the rules, been riding her mother’s bicycle and been 
caught by the Security Guards. 

They all listened carefully and discussed with Lily the 
warning that the dream had given. 

“Thank you for your dream, Lily.” Jonas said the stan- 
dard phrase automatically, and tried to pay better attention 
while his mother told of a dream fragment, a disquieting 
scene where she had been chastised for a rule infraction she 
didn’t understand. Together they agreed that it probably 
resulted from her feelings when she had reluctantly dealt 
punishment to the citizen who had broken the major rules a 
second time. 


Father said that he had had no dreams. 

“Gabe?” Father asked, looking down at the basket where 
the newchild lay gurgling after his feeding, ready to be 
taken back to the Nurturing Center for the day. 

They all laughed. Dream-telling began with Threes. If 
newchildren dreamed, no one knew. 

“Jonas?” Mother asked. They always asked, though they 
knew how rarely Jonas had a dream to tell. 

“I did dream last night,” Jonas told them. He shifted in 
his chair, frowning. 

“Good,” Father said. “Tell us.” 

“The details aren’t clear, really,” Jonas explained, trying 
to recreate the odd dream in his mind. “I think I was in the 
bathing room at the House of the Old.” 

“That’s where you were yesterday,” Father pointed out. 

Jonas nodded. “But it wasn’t really the same. There was 
a tub, in the dream. But only one. And the real bathing 
room has rows and rows of them. But the room in the 
dream was warm and damp. And 1 had taken off my tunic, 
but hadn’t put on the smock, so my chest was bare. I was 
perspiring, because it was so warm. And Fiona was there, 
the way she was yesterday.” 

“Asher, too?” Mother asked. 

Jonas shook his head. “No. It was only me and Fiona, 
alone in the room, standing beside the tub. She was laugh- 
ing. But I wasn’t. I was almost a little angry at her, in the 
dream, because she wasn’t taking me seriously.” 

“Seriously about what?” Lily asked. 

Jonas looked at his plate. For some reason that he didn’t 
understand, he felt slightly embarrassed. “I think I 


34 


35 



was trying to convince her that she should get into the tub 
of water.” 

He paused. He knew he had to tell it all, that it was not 
only all right but necessary to tell all of a dream. So he 
forced himself to relate the part that made him uneasy. 

“I wanted her to take off her clothes and get into the 
tub,” he explained quickly. “I wanted to bathe her. I had the 
sponge in my hand. But she wouldn’t. She kept laughing 
and saying no.” 

He looked up at his parents. “That’s all,” he said. “Can 
you describe the strongest feeling in your dream, son?” 
Father asked. 

Jonas thought about it. The details were murky and 
vague. But the feelings were clear, and flooded him again 
now as he thought. “The wanting, ” he said. “I knew that 
she wouldn’t. And I think I knew that she shouldn ’t. But I 
wanted it so terribly. I could feel the wanting all through 
me.” 

“Thank you for your dream, Jonas,” Mother said after a 
moment. She glanced at Father. 

“Lily,” Father said, “it’s time to leave for school. Would 
you walk beside me this morning and keep an eye on the 
newchild’s basket? We want to be certain he doesn’t wiggle 
himself loose.” 

Jonas began to rise to collect his schoolbooks. He 
thought it surprising that they hadn’t talked about his dream 
at length before the thank you. Perhaps they found it as 
confusing as he had. 

“Wait, Jonas,” Mother said gently. “I’ll write an apology 
to your instructor so that you won’t have to speak one for 
being late.” 


He sank back down into his chair, puzzled. He waved to 
Father and Lily as they left the dwelling, carrying Gabe in 
his basket. He watched while Mother tidied the remains of 
the morning meal and placed the tray by the front door for 
the Collection Crew. 

Finally she sat down beside him at the table. “Jonas,” 
she said with a smile, “the feeling you described as the 
wanting? It was your first Stirrings. Father and I have been 
expecting it to happen to you. It happens to everyone. It 
happened to Father when he was your age. And it hap- 
pened to me. It will happen someday to Lily. 

“And very often,” Mother added, “it begins with a 
dream.” 

Stirrings. He had heard the word before. He remem- 
bered that there was a reference to the Stirrings in the 
Book of Rules, though he didn’t remember what it said. 
And now and then the Speaker mentioned it. ATTENTION. 

A REMINDER THAT STIRRINGS MUST BE REPORTED IN 
ORDER FOR TREATMENT TO TAKE PLACE. 

He had always ignored that announcement because he 
didn’t understand it and it had never seemed to apply to 
him in any way. He ignored, as most citizens did, many of 
the commands and reminders read by the Speaker. 

“Do I have to report it?” he asked his mother. 

She laughed. “You did, in the dream-telling. That’s 
enough.” 

“But what about the treatment? The Speaker says that 
treatment must take place.” Jonas felt miserable. Just when 
the Ceremony was about to happen, his Ceremony of 
Twelve, would he have to go away someplace for treat- 
ment? Just because of a stupid dream? 


36 


37 



But his mother laughed again in a reassuring, affection- 
ate way. “No, no,” she said. “It’s just the pills. You’re 
ready for the pills, that’s all. That’s the treatment for Stir- 
rings.” 

Jonas brightened. He knew about the pills. His parents 
both took them each morning. And some of his friends did, 
he knew. Once he had been heading off to school with 
Asher, both of them on their bikes, when Asher’s father 
had called from their dwelling doorway, “You forgot your 
pill, Asher!” Asher had groaned good-naturedly, turned his 
bike, and ridden back while Jonas waited. 

It was the sort of thing one didn’t ask a friend about 
because it might have fallen into that uncomfortable cate- 
gory of ‘being different.’ Asher took a pill each morning; 
Jonas did not. Always better, less rude, to talk about things 
that were the same. 

Now he swallowed the small pill that his mother handed 
him. 

“That’s all?” he asked. 

“That’s all,” she replied, returning the bottle to the 
cupboard. “But you mustn’t forget. I’ll remind you for the 
first weeks, but then you must do it on your own. If you 
forget, the Stirrings will come back. The dreams of 
Stirrings will come back. Sometimes the dosage must be 
adjusted.” 

“Asher takes them,” Jonas confided. 

His mother nodded, unsurprised. “Many of your 
groupmates probably do. The males, at least. And they all 
will, soon. Females too.” 

“How long will I have to take them?” 

“Until you enter the House of the Old,” she explained. 


"All of your adult life. But it becomes routine; after a 
while you won't even pay much attention to it." 

She looked at her watch. "If you leave right now, you 
won't even be late for school. Hurry along. 

"And thank you again, Jonas," she added, as he went to 
the door, "for your dream." 

Pedaling rapidly down the path, Jonas felt oddly proud to 
have joined those who took the pills. For a moment, 
though, he remembered the dream again. The dream had 
felt pleasurable. Though the feelings were confused, he 
thought that he had liked the feelings that his mother had 
called Stirrings. He remembered that upon waking, he had 
wanted to feel the Stirrings again. 

Then, in the same way that his own dwelling slipped 
away behind him as he rounded a corner on his bicycle, the 
dream slipped away from his thoughts. Very briefly, a little 
guiltily, he tried to grasp it back. But the feelings had 
disappeared. The Stirrings were gone. 


38 


39 



6 


"Lily, please hold still," Mother said again. 

Lily, standing in front of her, fidgeted impatiently. "I 
can tie them myself," she complained. "I always have." 

"I know that," Mother replied, straightening the hair 
ribbons on the little girl's braids. "But I also know that they 
constantly come loose and more often than not, they're 
dangling down your back by afternoon. Today, at least, we 
want them to be neatly tied and to stay neatly tied." 

"1 don't like hair ribbons. I'm glad I only have to wear 
them one more year," Lily said irritably. "Next year I get 
my bicycle, too," she added more cheerfully. 

"There are good things each year," Jonas reminded her. 
"This year you get to start your volunteer hours. And re- 
member last year, when you became a Seven, you were so 
happy to get your front-buttoned jacket?" 

The little girl nodded and looked down at herself, at the 
jacket with its row of large buttons that designated her as a 
Seven. Fours, Fives, and Sixes all wore jackets that fas- 
tened down the back so that they would have to help each 
other dress and would learn interdependence. 

The front-buttoned jacket was the first sign of inde- 


pendence, the first very visible symbol of growing up. The 
bicycle, at Nine, would be the powerful emblem of moving 
gradually out into the community, away from the pro- 
tective family unit. 

Lily grinned and wriggled away from her mother. "And 
this year you get your Assignment," she said to Jonas in an 
excited voice. "I hope you get Pilot. And that you take me 
flying!" 

"Sure I will," said Jonas. "And I'll get a special little 
parachute that just fits you, and I'll take you up to, oh, 
maybe twenty thousand feet, and open the door, and — " 

"Jonas," Mother warned. 

"I was only joking," Jonas groaned. "I don't want Pilot, 
anyway. If I get Pilot I'll put in an appeal." 

"Come on," Mother said. She gave Lily's ribbons a final 
tug. "Jonas? Are you ready? Did you take your pill? I want 
to get a good seat in the Auditorium." She prodded Lily to 
the front door and Jonas followed. 

It was a short ride to the Auditorium, Lily waving to her 
friends from her seat on the back of Mother's bicycle. Jonas 
stowed his bicycle beside Mother's and made his way 
through the throng to find his group. 

The entire community attended the Ceremony each year. 
For the parents, it meant two days holiday from work; they 
sat together in the huge hall. Children sat with their groups 
until they went, one by one, to the stage. 

Father, though, would not join Mother in the audience 
right away. For the earliest ceremony, the Naming, the 
Nurturers brought the newchildren to the stage. Jonas, from 
his place in the balcony with the Elevens, searched the 
Auditorium for a glimpse of Father. It wasn't at all 

41 


40 



hard to spot the Nurturers' section at the front; coming from 
it were the wails and howls of the newchildren who sat 
squirming on the Nurturers' laps. At every other public 
ceremony, the audience was silent and attentive. But once a 
year, they all smiled indulgently at the commotion from the 
little ones waiting to receive their names and families. 

Jonas finally caught his father's eye and waved. Father 
grinned and waved back, then held up the hand of the 
newchild on his lap, making it wave, too. 

It wasn't Gabriel. Gabe was back at the Nurturing Center 
today, being cared for by the night crew. He had been given 
an unusual and special reprieve from the committee, and 
granted an additional year of nurturing before his Naming 
and Placement. Father had gone before the committee with 
a plea on behalf of Gabriel, who had not yet gained the 
weight appropriate to his days of life nor begun to sleep 
soundly enough at night to be placed with his family unit. 
Normally such a newchild would be labeled Inadequate and 
released from the community. 

Instead, as a result of Father's plea, Gabriel had been 
labeled Uncertain and given the additional year. He would 
continue to be nurtured at the Center and would spend his 
nights with Jonas's family unit. Each family member, in- 
cluding Lily, had been required to sign a pledge that they 
would not become attached to this little temporary guest, 
and that they would relinquish him without protest or ap- 
peal when he was assigned to his own family unit at next 
year's Ceremony. 

At least, Jonas thought, after Gabriel was placed next 
year, they would still see him often because he would be 


part of the community. If he were released, they would not 
see him again. Ever. Those who were released — even as 
newchildren — were sent Elsewhere and never returned to 
the community. 

Father had not had to release a single newchild this year, 
so Gabriel would have represented a real failure and 
sadness. Even Jonas, though he didn't hover over the little 
one the way Lily and his father did, was glad that Gabe had 
not been released. 

The first Ceremony began right on time, and Jonas 
watched as one after another each newchild was given a 
name and handed by the Nurturers to its new family unit. 
For some, it was a first child. But many came to the stage 
accompanied by another child beaming with pride to re- 
ceive a little brother or sister, the way Jonas had when he 
was about to be a Five. 

Asher poked Jonas's arm. "Remember when we got 
Phillipa?" he asked in a loud whisper. Jonas nodded. It had 
only been last year. Asher's parents had waited quite a long 
time before applying for a second child. Maybe, Jonas 
suspected, they had been so exhausted by Asher's lively 
foolishness that they had needed a little time. 

Two of their group, Fiona and another female named 
Thea, were missing temporarily, waiting with their parents 
to receive newchildren. But it was rare that there was such 
an age gap between children in a family unit. 

When her family's ceremony was completed, Fiona took 
the seat that had been saved for her in the row ahead of 
Asher and Jonas. She turned and whispered to them, "He's 
cute. But I don't like his name very much." She made a face 
and giggled. Fiona's new brother had been 


42 


43 



named Bruno. It wasn't a great name, Jonas thought, like 
— well, like Gabriel, for example. But it was okay. 

The audience applause, which was enthusiastic at each 
Naming, rose in an exuberant swell when one parental pair, 
glowing with pride, took a male newchild and heard him 
named Caleb. 

This new Caleb was a replacement child. The couple 
had lost their first Caleb, a cheerful little Four. Loss of a 
child was very, very rare. The community was extraordi- 
narily safe, each citizen watchful and protective of all chil- 
dren. But somehow the first little Caleb had wandered 
away unnoticed, and had fallen into the river. The entire 
community had performed the Ceremony of Loss together, 
murmuring the name Caleb throughout an entire day, less 
and less frequently, softer in volume, as the long and 
somber day went on, so that the little Four seemed to fade 
away gradually from everyone's consciousness. 

Now, at this special Naming, the community per-formed 
the brief Murmur-of-Replacement Ceremony, repeating the 
name for the first time since the loss: softly and slowly at 
first, then faster and with greater volume, as the couple 
stood on the stage with the newchild sleeping in the 
mother's arms. It was as if the first Caleb were returning. 

Another newchild was given the name Roberto, and 
Jonas remembered that Roberto the Old had been released 
only last week. But there was no Murmur-of-Replacement 
Ceremony for the new little Roberto. Release was not the 
same as Loss. 

He sat politely through the ceremonies of Two and 
Three and Four, increasingly bored as he was each year. 
Then a break for midday meal — served outdoors — and 


back again to the seats, for the Fives, Sixes, Sevens, and fi- 
nally, last of the first day's ceremonies, the Eights. 

Jonas watched and cheered as Lily marched proudly to 
the stage, became an Eight and received the identifying 
jacket that she would wear this year, this one with smaller 
buttons and, for the first time, pockets, indicating that she 
was mature enough now to keep track of her own small 
belongings. She stood solemnly listening to the speech of 
firm instructions on the responsibilities of Eight and doing 
volunteer hours for the first time. But Jonas could see that 
Lily, though she seemed attentive, was looking longingly 
at the row of gleaming bicycles, which would be presented 
tomorrow morning to the Nines. 

Next year, Lily-billy, Jonas thought. 

It was an exhausting day, and even Gabriel, retrieved in 
his basket from the Nurturing Center, slept soundly that 
night. 

Finally it was the morning of the Ceremony of Twelve. 

Now Father sat beside Mother in the audience. Jonas could 
see them applauding dutifully as the Nines, one by one, 
wheeled their new bicycles, each with its gleaming 
nametag attached to the back, from the stage. He knew that 
his parents cringed a little, as he did, when Fritz, who lived 
in the dwelling next door to theirs, received his bike and 
almost immediately bumped into the podium with it. Fritz 
was a very awkward child who had been summoned for 
chastisement again and again. His transgressions were 
small ones, always: shoes on the wrong feet, schoolwork 
misplaced, failure to study adequately for a quiz. But each 
such error reflected negatively on his parents' guidance and 


44 


45 



infringed on the community's sense of order and success. 
Jonas and his family had not been looking forward to Fritz's 
bicycle, which they realized would probably too often be 
dropped on the front walk instead of wheeled neatly into its 
port. 

Finally the Nines were all resettled in their seats, each 
having wheeled a bicycle outside where it would be waiting 
for its owner at the end of the day. Everyone always 
chuckled and made small jokes when the Nines rode home 
for the first time. "Want me to show you how to ride?" older 
friends would call. "I know you've never been on a bike 
before!" But invariably the grinning Nines, who in technical 
violation of the rule had been practicing secretly for weeks, 
would mount and ride off in perfect balance, training wheels 
never touching the ground. 

Then the Tens. Jonas never found the Ceremony of Ten 
particularly interesting — only time-consuming, as each 
child's hair was snipped neatly into its distinguishing cut: 
females lost their braids at Ten, and males, too, relinquished 
their long childish hair and took on the more manly short 
style which exposed their ears. 

Laborers moved quickly to the stage with brooms and 
swept away the mounds of discarded hair. Jonas could see 
the parents of the new Tens stir and murmur, and he knew 
that this evening, in many dwellings, they would be snip- 
ping and straightening the hastily done haircuts, trimming 
them into a neater line. 

Elevens. It seemed a short time ago that Jonas had un- 
dergone the Ceremony of Eleven, but he remembered that it 
was not one of the more interesting ones. By Eleven, one 
was only waiting to be Twelve. It was simply a marking of 


time with no meaningful changes. There was new clothing: 
different undergarments for the females, whose bodies were 
beginning to change; and longer trousers for the males, with 
a specially shaped pocket for the small calculator that they 
would use this year in school; but those were simply 
presented in wrapped packages without an accompanying 
speech. 

Break for midday meal. Jonas realized he was hungry. He 
and his groupmates congregated by the tables in front of the 
Auditorium and took their packaged food. Yesterday there 
had been merriment at lunch, a lot of teasing and energy. 
But today the group stood anxiously, separate from the other 
children. Jonas watched the new Nines gravitate toward their 
waiting bicycles, each one admiring his or her nametag. He 
saw the Tens stroking their new shortened hair, the females 
shaking their heads to feel the unaccustomed lightness 
without the heavy braids they had worn so long. 

"I heard about a guy who was absolutely certain he was 
going to be assigned Engineer," Asher muttered as they ate, 
"and instead they gave him Sanitation Laborer. He went out 
the next day, jumped into the river, swam across, and joined 
the next community he came to. Nobody ever saw him 
again." 

Jonas laughed. "Somebody made that story up. Ash," he 
said. "My father said he heard that story when he was a 
Twelve." 

But Asher wasn't reassured. He was eyeing the river 
where it was visible behind the Auditorium. "I can't even 
swim very well," he said. "My swimming instructor said that 
I don't have the right boyishness or something." 


46 


47 



"Buoyancy," Jonas corrected him. 

"Whatever. I don't have it. I sink." 

"Anyway," Jonas pointed out, "have you ever once 
known of anyone — I mean really known for sure, Asher, 
not just heard a story about it — who joined another com- 
munity?" 

"No," Asher admitted reluctantly. "But you can. It says 
so in the rules. If you don't fit in, you can apply for 
Elsewhere and be released. My mother says that once, 
about ten years ago, someone applied and was gone the 
next day." Then he chuckled. "She told me that because I 
was driving her crazy. She threatened to apply for Else- 
where." 

"She was joking." 

"I know. But it was true, what she said, that someone did 
that once. She said that it was really true. Here today and 
gone tomorrow. Never seen again. Not even a Ceremony of 
Release." 

Jonas shrugged. It didn't worry him. How could some- 
one not fit in? The community was so meticulously ordered, 
the choices so carefully made. 

Even the Matching of Spouses was given such weighty 
consideration that sometimes an adult who applied to re- 
ceive a spouse waited months or even years before a Match 
was approved and announced. All of the factors — dispo- 
sition, energy level, intelligence, and interests — had to 
correspond and to interact perfectly. Jonas's mother, for 
example, had higher intelligence than his father; but his 
father had a calmer disposition. They balanced each other. 
Their Match, which like all Matches had been monitored by 
the Committee of Elders for three years before they 


could apply for children, had always been a successful one. 

Like the Matching of Spouses and the Naming and 
Placement of newchildren, the Assignments were scrupu- 
lously thought through by the Committee of Elders. 

He was certain that his Assignment, whatever it was to 
be, and Asher's too, would be the right one for them. He 
only wished that the midday break would conclude, that the 
audience would reenter the Auditorium, and the suspense 
would end. 

As if in answer to his unspoken wish, the signal came 
and the crowd began to move toward the doors. 


48 


49 



7 


Now Jonas's group had taken a new place in the Auditorium, 
trading with the new Elevens, so that they sat in the very 
front, immediately before the stage. 

They were arranged by their original numbers, the 
numbers they had been given at birth. The numbers were 
rarely used after the Naming. But each child knew his 
number, of course. Sometimes parents used them in irrita- 
tion at a child's misbehavior, indicating that mischief made 
one unworthy of a name. Jonas always chuckled when he 
heard a parent, exasperated, call sharply to a whining 
toddler, "That's enough, Twenty-three!" 

Jonas was Nineteen. He had been the nineteenth new- 
child born his year. It had meant that at his Naming, he had 
been already standing and bright-eyed, soon to walk and 
talk. It had given him a slight advantage the first year or 
two, a little more maturity than many of his group-mates 
who had been bom in the later months of that year. But it 
evened out, as it always did, by Three. 

After Three, the children progressed at much the same 
level, though by their first number one could always tell 
who was a few months older than others in his group. 
Technically, Jonas's full number was Eleven-nineteen, 


since there were other Nineteens, of course, in each age 
group. And today, now that the new Elevens had been ad- 
vanced this morning, there were two Eleven-nineteens. At 
the midday break he had exchanged smiles with the new 
one, a shy female named Harriet. 

But the duplication was only for these few hours. Very 
soon he would not be an Eleven but a Twelve, and age 
would no longer matter. He would be an adult, like his 
parents, though a new one and untrained still. 

Asher was Four, and sat now in the row ahead of Jonas. 
He would receive his Assignment fourth. 

Fiona, Eighteen, was on his left; on his other side sat 
Twenty, a male named Pierre whom Jonas didn't like much. 
Pierre was very serious, not much fun, and a worrier and 
tattletale, too. "Have you checked the rules, Jonas?" Pierre 
was always whispering solemnly. "I'm not sure that's within 
the rules." Usually it was some foolish thing that no one 
cared about — opening his tunic if it was a day with a 
breeze; taking a brief try on a friend's bicycle, just to 
experience the different feel of it. 

The initial speech at the Ceremony of Twelve was made 
by the Chief Elder, the leader of the community who was 
elected every ten years. The speech was much the same each 
year: recollection of the time of childhood and the period of 
preparation, the coming responsibilities of adult life, the 
profound importance of Assignment, the seriousness of 
training to come. 

Then the Chief Elder moved ahead in her speech. 

"This is the time," she began, looking directly at them, when 
we acknowledge differences. You Elevens have spent all 
your years till now learning to fit in, to standard- 


50 


51 



ize your behavior, to curb any impulse that might set you 
apart from the group. 

"But today we honor your differences. They have deter- 
mined your futures." 

She began to describe this year's group and its variety of 
personalities, though she singled no one out by name. She 
mentioned that there was one who had singular skills at 
caretaking, another who loved newchildren, one with un- 
usual scientific aptitude, and a fourth for whom physical 
labor was an obvious pleasure. Jonas shifted in his seat, 
trying to recognize each reference as one of his group- 
mates. The caretaking skills were no doubt those of Fiona, 
on his left; he remembered noticing the tenderness with 
which she had bathed the Old. Probably the one with sci- 
entific aptitude was Benjamin, the male who had devised 
new, important equipment for the Rehabilitation Center. 

He heard nothing that he recognized as himself, Jonas. 

Finally the Chief Elder paid tribute to the hard work of 
her committee, which had performed the observations so 
meticulously all year. The Committee of Elders stood and 
was acknowledged by applause. Jonas noticed Asher yawn 
slightly, covering his mouth politely with his hand. 

Then, at last, the Chief Elder called number One to the 
stage, and the Assignments began. 

Each announcement was lengthy, accompanied by a 
speech directed at the new Twelve. Jonas tried to pay at- 
tention as One, smiling happily, received her Assignment as 
Fish Hatchery Attendant along with words of praise for her 
childhood spent doing many volunteer hours there, and her 
obvious interest in the important process of providing 
nourishment for the community. 


Number One — her name was Madeline — returned, 
finally, amidst applause, to her seat, wearing the new 
badge that designated her Fish Hatchery Attendant. Jonas 
was certainly glad that that Assignment was taken; he 
wouldn't have wanted it. But he gave Madeline a smile of 
congratulation. 

When Two, a female named Inger, received her Assign- 
ment as Birthmother, Jonas remembered that his mother 
had called it a job without honor. But he thought that the 
Committee had chosen well. Inger was a nice girl though 
somewhat lazy, and her body was strong. She would enjoy 
the three years of being pampered that would follow her 
brief training; she would give birth easily and well; and the 
task of Laborer that would follow would use her strength, 
keep her healthy, and impose self-discipline. Inger was 
smiling when she resumed her seat. Birthmother was an 
important job, if lacking in prestige. 

Jonas noticed that Asher looked nervous. He kept turn- 
ing his head and glancing back at Jonas until the group 
leader had to give him a silent chastisement, a motion to 
sit still and face forward. 

Three, Isaac, was given an Assignment as Instructor of 
Sixes, which obviously pleased him and was well deserved. 
Now there were three Assignments gone, none of them 
ones that Jonas would have liked — not that he could have 
been a Birthmother, anyway, he realized with amusement. 
He tried to sort through the list in his mind, the possible 
Assignments that remained. But there were so many he 
gave it up; and anyway, now it was Asher's turn. He paid 
strict attention as his friend went to the stage and stood 
self-consciously beside the Chief Elder. 


52 


53 



"All of us in the community know and enjoy Asher," the 
Chief Elder began. Asher grinned and scratched one leg 
with the other foot. The audience chuckled softly. 

"When the committee began to consider Asher's 
Assignment," she went on, "there were some possibilities 
that were immediately discarded. Some that would clearly, 
not have been right for Asher. 

"For example," she said, smiling, "we did not consider 
for an instant designating Asher an Instructor of Threes." 

The audience howled with laughter. Asher laughed, too, 
looking sheepish but pleased at the special attention. The 
Instructors of Threes were in charge of the acquisition of 
correct language. 

"In fact," the Chief Elder continued, chuckling a little 
herself, "we even gave a little thought to some retroactive 
chastisement for the one who had been Asher's Instructor of 
Threes so long ago. At the meeting where Asher was 
discussed, we retold many of the stories that we all re- 
membered from his days of language acquisition. 

"Especially," she said, chuckling, "the difference between 
snack and smack. Remember, Asher?" 

Asher nodded ruefully, and the audience laughed aloud. 
Jonas did, too. He remembered, though he had been only a 
Three at the time himself. 

The punishment used for small children was a regulated 
system of smacks with the discipline wand: a thin, flexible 
weapon that stung painfully when it was wielded. The 
Childcare specialists were trained very carefully in the dis- 
cipline methods: a quick smack across the hands for a bit of 
minor misbehavior; three sharper smacks on the bare legs 
for a second offense. 


Poor Asher, who always talked too fast and mixed up 
words, even as a toddler. As a Three, eager for his juice and 
crackers at snacktime, he one day said "smack" in-stead of 
"snack" as he stood waiting in line for the morning treat. 

Jonas remembered it clearly. He could still see little 
Asher, wiggling with impatience in the line. He remembered 
the cheerful voice call out, "I want my smack!" 

The other Threes, including Jonas, had laughed ner- 
vously. "Snack!" they corrected. "You meant snack, Asher!" 
But the mistake had been made. And precision of language 
was one of the most important tasks of small children. Asher 
had asked for a smack. 

The discipline wand, in the hand of the Childcare worker, 
whistled as it came down across Asher's hands. Asher 
whimpered, cringed, and corrected himself instantly. 
"Snack," he whispered. 

But the next morning he had done it again. And again the 
following week. He couldn't seem to stop, though for each 
lapse the discipline wand came again, escalating to a series 
of painful lashes that left marks on Asher's legs. Eventually, 
for a period of time, Asher stopped talking altogether, when 
he was a Three. 

"For a while," the Chief Elder said, relating the story, we 
had a silent Asher! But he learned." 

She turned to him with a smile. "When he began to talk 
again, it was with greater precision. And now his lapses are 
very few. His corrections and apologies are very prompt. 
And his good humor is unfailing." The audience murmured 
in agreement. Asher's cheerful disposition was well-known 
throughout the community. 


54 


55 



"Asher." She lifted her voice to make the official an- 
nouncement. "We have given you the Assignment of As- 
sistant Director of Recreation." 

She clipped on his new badge as he stood beside her, 
beaming. Then he turned and left the stage as the audience 
cheered. When he had taken his seat again, the Chief Elder 
looked down at him and said the words that she had said 
now four times, and would say to each new Twelve. 
Somehow she gave it special meaning for each of them. 
"Asher," she said, "thank you for your childhood." 

The Assignments continued, and Jonas watched and lis- 
tened, relieved now by the wonderful Assignment his best 
friend had been given. But he was more and more appre- 
hensive as his own approached. Now the new Twelves in 
the row ahead had all received their badges. They were 
fingering them as they sat, and Jonas knew that each one 
was thinking about the training that lay ahead. For some — 
one studious male had been selected as Doctor, a female as 
Engineer, and another for Law and Justice — it would be 
years of hard work and study. Others, like Laborers and 
Birthmothers, would have a much shorter training period. 

Eighteen, Fiona, on his left, was called. Jonas knew she 
must be nervous, but Fiona was a calm female. She had 
been sitting quietly, serenely, throughout the Ceremony. 

Even the applause, though enthusiastic, seemed serene 
when Fiona was given the important Assignment of Care- 
taker of the Old. It was perfect for such a sensitive, gentle 
girl, and her smile was satisfied and pleased when she took 
her seat beside him again. 


Jonas prepared himself to walk to the stage when the 
applause ended and the Chief Elder picked up the next 
folder and looked down to the group to call forward the 
next new Twelve. He was calm now that his turn had come. 
He took a deep breath and smoothed his hair with his hand. 

"Twenty," he heard her voice say clearly. "Pierre." 

She skipped me, Jonas thought, stunned. Had he heard 
wrong? No. There was a sudden hush in the crowd, and he 
knew that the entire community realized that the Chief 
Elder had moved from Eighteen to Twenty, leaving a gap. 
On his right, Pierre, with a startled look, rose from his seat 
and moved to the stage. 

A mistake. She made a mistake. But Jonas knew, even as 
he had the thought, that she hadn't. The Chief Elder made 
no mistakes. Not at the Ceremony of Twelve. 

He felt dizzy, and couldn't focus his attention. He didn't 
hear what Assignment Pierre received, and was only dimly 
aware of the applause as the boy returned, wearing his new 
badge. Then: Twenty-one. Twenty-two. 

The numbers continued in order. Jonas sat, dazed, as they 
moved into the Thirties and then the Forties, nearing the 
end. Each time, at each announcement, his heart jumped for 
a moment, and he thought wild thoughts. Perhaps now she 
would call his name. Could he have forgotten his own 
number? No. He had always been Nineteen. He was sitting 
in the seat marked Nineteen. 

But she had skipped him. He saw the others in his group 
glance at him, embarrassed, and then avert their eyes 
quickly. He saw a worried look on the face of his group 
leader. 


56 


57 



He hunched his shoulders and tried to make himself 
smaller in the seat. He wanted to disappear, to fade away, 
not to exist. He didn't dare to turn and find his parents in 
the crowd. He couldn't bear to see their faces darkened with 
shame. 

Jonas bowed his head and searched through his mind. 
What had he done wrong? 


58 


8 


The audience was clearly ill at ease. They applauded at the 
final Assignment; but the applause was piecemeal, no 
longer a crescendo of united enthusiasm. There were mur- 
murs of confusion. 

Jonas moved his hands together, clapping, but it was an 
automatic, meaningless gesture that he wasn't even aware 
of. His mind had shut out all of the earlier emotions: the 
anticipation, excitement, pride, and even the happy kinship 
with his friends. Now he felt only humiliation and terror. 

The Chief Elder waited until the uneasy applause sub- 
sided. Then she spoke again. 

"I know," she said in her vibrant, gracious voice, "that 
you are all concerned. That you feel I have made a mis- 
take." 

She smiled. The community, relieved from its discom- 
fort very slightly by her benign statement, seemed to 
breathe more easily. It was very silent. 

Jonas looked up. 

"I have caused you anxiety," she said. "I apologize to 
my community." Her voice flowed over the assembled 
crowd. 


59 



"We accept your apology," they all uttered together. 

"Jonas," she said, looking down at him, "I apologize to 
you in particular. I caused you anguish." 

"I accept your apology," Jonas replied shakily. 

"Please come to the stage now." 

Earlier that day, dressing in his own dwelling, he had 
practiced the kind of jaunty, self-assured walk that he hoped 
he could make to the stage when his turn came. All of that 
was forgotten now. He simply willed himself to stand, to 
move his feet that felt weighted and clumsy, to go forward, 
up the steps and across the platform until he stood at her 
side. 

Reassuringly she placed her arm across his tense 
shoulders. 

"Jonas has not been assigned," she informed the crowd, 
and his heart sank. 

Then she went on. "Jonas has been selected. " 

He blinked. What did that mean? He felt a collective, 
questioning stir from the audience. They, too, were puzzled. 

In a firm, commanding voice she announced, "Jonas has 
been selected to be our next Receiver of Memory." 

Then he heard the gasp — the sudden intake of breath, 
drawn sharply in astonishment, by each of the seated citi- 
zens. He saw their faces; the eyes widened in awe. 

And still he did not understand. 

"Such a selection is very, very rare," the Chief Elder told 
the audience. "Our community has only one Receiver. It is 
he who trains his successor. 

"We have had our current Receiver for a very long time," 
she went on. Jonas followed her eyes and saw that 


she was looking at one of the Elders. The Committee of 
Elders was sitting together in a group; and the Chief Elder's 
eyes were now on one who sat in the midst but seemed oddly 
separate from them. It was a man Jonas had never noticed 
before, a bearded man with pale eyes. He was watching 
Jonas intently. 

"We failed in our last selection," the Chief Elder said 
solemnly. "It was ten years ago, when Jonas was just a 
toddler. I will not dwell on the experience because it causes 
us all terrible discomfort." 

Jonas didn't know what she was referring to, but he could 
sense the discomfort of the audience. They shifted uneasily 
in their seats. 

"We have not been hasty this time," she continued. "We 
could not afford another failure." 

"Sometimes," she went on, speaking now in a lighter 
tone, relaxing the tension in the Auditorium, "we are not 
entirely certain about the Assignments, even after the most 
painstaking observations. Sometimes we worry that the one 
assigned might not develop, through training, every 
attribute necessary. Elevens are still children, after all. What 
we observe as playfulness and patience — the requirements 
to become Nurturer — could, with maturity, be revealed as 
simply foolishness and indolence. So we continue to 
observe during training, and to modify behavior when 
necessary. 

"But the Receiver-in-training cannot be observed, can- 
not be modified. That is stated quite clearly in the rules. He 
is to be alone, apart, while he is prepared by the cur-rent 
Receiver for the job which is the most honored in our 
community." 


60 


61 



Alone? Apart? Jonas listened with increasing unease. 

"Therefore the selection must be sound. It must be a 
unanimous choice of the Committee. They can have no 
doubts, however fleeting. If, during the process, an Elder 
reports a dream of uncertainty, that dream has the power to 
set a candidate aside instantly. 

"Jonas was identified as a possible Receiver many years 
ago. We have observed him meticulously. There were no 
dreams of uncertainty. 

"He has shown all of the qualities that a Receiver must 
have." 

With her hand still firmly on his shoulder, the Chief 
Elder listed the qualities. 

"Intelligence," she said. "We are all aware that Jonas 
has been a top student throughout his school days. 

''Integrity,” she said next. "Jonas has, like all of us, 
committed minor transgressions." She smiled at him. "We 
expect that. We hoped, also, that he would present himself 
promptly for chastisement, and he has always done so. 

"Courage, " she went on. "Only one of us here today has 
ever undergone the rigorous training required of a Receiver. 
He, of course, is the most important member of the 
Committee: the current Receiver. It was he who reminded 
us, again and again, of the courage required. 

"Jonas," she said, turning to him, but speaking in a voice 
that the entire community could hear, "the training required 
of you involves pain. Physical pain." 

He felt fear flutter within him. 

"You have never experienced that. Yes, you have 
scraped your knees in falls from your bicycle. Yes, you 
crushed your finger in a door last year." 


Jonas nodded, agreeing, as he recalled the incident, and 
its accompanying misery. 

"But you will be faced, now," she explained gently, 
“with pain of a magnitude that none of us here can com- 
prehend because it is beyond our experience. The Receiver 
himself was not able to describe it, only to remind us that 
you would be faced with it, that you would need immense 
courage. We cannot prepare you for that. 

"But we feel certain that you are brave," she said to 
him. 

He did not feel brave at all. Not now. 

"The fourth essential attribute," the Chief Elder said, "is 
wisdom. Jonas has not yet acquired that. The acquisition 
of wisdom will come through his training. 

"We are convinced that Jonas has the ability to acquire 
wisdom. That is what we looked for. 

"Finally, The Receiver must have one more quality, and 
it is one which I can only name, but not describe. I do not 
understand it. You members of the community will not 
understand it, either. Perhaps Jonas will, because the 
current Receiver has told us that Jonas already has this 
quality. He calls it the Capacity to See Beyond." 

The Chief Elder looked at Jonas with a question in her 
eyes. The audience watched him, too. They were silent. 

For a moment he froze, consumed with despair. He 
didn't have it, the whatever-she-had-said. He didn't know 
what it was. Now was the moment when he would have to 
confess, to say, "No, I don't. I can't," and throw himself on 
their mercy, ask their forgiveness, to explain that he had 
been wrongly chosen, that he was not the right one at all. 


62 


63 



But when he looked out across the crowd, the sea of 
faces, the thing happened again. The thing that had hap- 
pened with the apple. 

They changed. 

He blinked, and it was gone. His shoulders straightened 
slightly. Briefly he felt a tiny sliver of sureness for the first 
time. 

She was still watching him. They all were. 

"I think it's true," he told the Chief Elder and the com- 
munity. "I don't understand it yet. I don't know what it is. 
But sometimes I see something. And maybe it's beyond." 

She took her arm from his shoulders. 

"Jonas," she said, speaking not to him alone but to the 
entire community of which he was a part, "you will be 
trained to be our next Receiver of Memory. We thank you 
for your childhood." 

Then she turned and left the stage, left him there alone, 
standing and facing the crowd, which began spontaneously 
the collective murmur of his name. 

"Jonas." It was a whisper at first: hushed, barely audi- 
ble. "Jonas. Jonas." 

Then louder, faster. "JONAS. JONAS. JONAS." 

With the chant, Jonas knew, the community was ac- 
cepting him and his new role, giving him life, the way they 
had given it to the newchild Caleb. His heart swelled with 
gratitude and pride. 

But at the same time he was filled with fear. He did not 
know what his selection meant. He did not know what he 
was to become. 

Or what would become of him. 


9 


Now, for the first time in his twelve years of life, Jonas felt 
separate, different. He remembered what the Chief Elder 
had said: that his training would be alone and apart. 

But his training had not yet begun and already, upon 
leaving the Auditorium, he felt the apartness. Holding the 
folder she had given him, he made his way through the 
throng, looking for his family unit and for Asher. People 
moved aside for him. They watched him. He thought he 
could hear whispers. 

"Ash!" he called, spotting his friend near the rows of 
bicycles. "Ride back with me?" 

"Sure." Asher smiled, his usual smile, friendly and fa- 
miliar. But Jonas felt a moment of hesitation from his 
friend, an uncertainty. 

"Congratulations," Asher said. 

"You too," Jonas replied. "It was really funny, when 
she told about the smacks. You got more applause than 
almost anybody else." 

The other new Twelves clustered nearby, placing their 
folders carefully into the carrying containers on the backs 
of the bikes. In each dwelling tonight they would be 


64 


65 



studying the instructions for the beginning of their training. 
Each night for years the children had memorized the 
required lessons for school, often yawning with boredom. 
Tonight they would all begin eagerly to memorize the rules 
for their adult Assignments. 

"Congratulations, Asher!" someone called. Then that 
hesitation again. "You too, Jonas!" 

Asher and Jonas responded with congratulations to their 
groupmates. Jonas saw his parents watching him from the 
place where their own bicycles were waiting. Lily had 
already been strapped into her seat. 

He waved. They waved back, smiling, but he noticed 
that Lily was watching him solemnly, her thumb in her 
mouth. 

He rode directly to his dwelling, exchanging only small 
jokes and unimportant remarks with Asher. 

"See you in the morning, Recreation Director!" he 
called, dismounting by his door as Asher continued on. 

"Right! See you!" Asher called back. Once again, there 
was just a moment when things weren't quite the same, 
weren't quite as they had always been through the long 
friendship. Perhaps he had imagined it. Things couldn't 
change, with Asher. 

The evening meal was quieter than usual. Lily chattered 
about her plans for volunteer work; she would begin, she 
said, at the Nurturing Center, since she was already an ex- 
pert at feeding Gabriel. 

"I know," she added quickly, when her father gave her a 
warning glance, "I won't mention his name. I know I'm not 
supposed to know his name. 

"I can't wait for tomorrow to come," she said happily. 

Jonas sighed uneasily. "I can," he muttered. 


"You've been greatly honored," his mother said. "Your 
father and I are very proud." 

"It's the most important job in the community," Father 
said. 

"But just the other night, you said that the job of making 
Assignments was the most important!" 

Mother nodded. "This is different. It's not a job, really. I 
never thought, never expected — " She paused. "There's 
only one Receiver." 

"But the Chief Elder said that they had made a selection 
before, and that it failed. What was she talking about?" 

Both of his parents hesitated. Finally his father de- 
scribed the previous selection. "It was very much as it was 
today, Jonas — the same suspense, as one Eleven had been 
passed over when the Assignments were given. Then the 
announcement, when they singled out the one — " 

Jonas interrupted. "What was his name?" 

His mother replied, "Her, not his. It was a female. But 
we are never to speak the name, or to use it again for a 
newchild." 

Jonas was shocked. A name designated Not-to-Be- 
Spoken indicated the highest degree of disgrace. 

"What happened to her?" he asked nervously. 

But his parents looked blank. "We don't know," his fa- 
ther said uncomfortably. "We never saw her again." 

A silence fell over the room. They looked at each other. 
Finally his mother, rising from the table, said, "You've 
been greatly honored, Jonas. Greatly honored." 

Alone in his sleepingroom, prepared for bed, Jonas opened 
his folder at last. Some of the other Twelves, he had no- 


66 


67 



ticed, had been given folders thick with printed pages. He 
imagined Benjamin, the scientific male in his group, be- 
ginning to read pages of rules and instructions with relish. 
He pictured Fiona smiling her gentle smile as she bent over 
the lists of duties and methods that she would be required to 
learn in the days to come. 

But his own folder was startlingly close to empty. Inside 
there was only a single printed sheet. He read it twice. 

JONAS 

RECEIVER OF MEMORY 

1 . Go immediately at the end of school hours each 
day to the Annex entrance behind the House of the 
Old and present yourself to the attendant. 

2. Go immediately to your dwelling at the con- 
clusion of Training Hours each day. 

3. From this moment you are exempted from rules 
governing rudeness. You may ask any question of 
any citizen and you will receive answers. 

4. Do not discuss your training with any other 
member of the community, including parents and 
Elders. 

5. From this moment you are prohibited from 
dream-telling. 

6. Except for illness or injury unrelated to your 
training, do not apply for any medication. 

7. You are not permitted to apply for release. 


Jonas was stunned. What would happen to his friend- 
ships? His mindless hours playing ball, or riding his bike 
along the river? Those had been happy and vital times for 
him. Were they to be completely taken from him, now? The 
simple logistic instructions — where to go, and when — 
were expected. Every Twelve had to be told, of course, 
where and how and when to report for training. But he was a 
little dismayed that his schedule left no time, apparently, for 
recreation. 

The exemption from rudeness startled him. Reading it 
again, however, he realized that it didn't compel him to be 
rude; it simply allowed him the option. He was quite certain 
he would never take advantage of it. He was so completely, 
so thoroughly accustomed to courtesy within the community 
that the thought of asking another citizen an intimate 
question, of calling someone's attention to an area of 
awkwardness, was unnerving. 

The prohibition of dream-telling, he thought, would not be 
a real problem. He dreamed so rarely that the dream-telling 
did not come easily to him anyway, and he was glad to be 
excused from it. He wondered briefly, though, how to deal 
with it at the morning meal. What if he did dream — should 
he simply tell his family unit, as he did so often, anyway, 
that he hadn't? That would be a lie. Still, the final rule said ... 
well, he wasn't quite ready to think about the final rule on 
the page. 

The restriction of medication unnerved him. Medication 
was always available to citizens, even to children, through 
their parents. When he had crushed his finger in the door, he 
had quickly, gasping into the speaker, notified his mother; 
she had hastily requisitioned relief-of-pain 


8. You may lie. 


68 


69 



medication which had promptly been delivered to his 
dwelling. Almost instantly the excruciating pain in his hand 
had diminished to the throb which was, now, all he could 
recall of the experience. 

Re-reading rule number 6, he realized that a crushed 
finger fell into the category of "unrelated to training." So if it 
ever happened again — and he was quite certain it wouldn't; 
he had been very careful near heavy doors since the 
accident! — he could still receive medication. 

The pill he took now, each morning, was also unrelated to 
training. So he would continue to receive the pill. 

But he remembered uneasily what the Chief Elder had 
said about the pain that would come with his training. She 
had called it indescribable. 

Jonas swallowed hard, trying without success to imagine 
what such pain might be like, with no medication at all. But 
it was beyond his comprehension. 

He felt no reaction to rule number 7 at all. It had never 
occurred to him that under any circumstances, ever, he might 
apply for release. 

Finally he steeled himself to read the final rule again. He 
had been trained since earliest childhood, since his earliest 
learning of language, never to lie. It was an integral part of 
the learning of precise speech. Once, when he had been a 
Four, he had said, just prior to the midday meal at school, 
"I'm starving." 

Immediately he had been taken aside for a brief private 
lesson in language precision. He was not starving, it was 
pointed out. He was hungry. No one in the community was 
starving, had ever been starving, would ever be starving. To 
say "starving" was to speak a lie. An uninten- 


tioned lie, of course. But the reason for precision of 
language was to ensure that unintentional lies were never 
uttered. Did he understand that' they asked him. And he 
had. 

He had never, within his memory, been tempted to lie. 
Asher did not lie. Fily did not lie. His parents did not lie. 
No one did. Unless ... 

Now Jonas had a thought that he had never had before. 
This new thought was frightening. What if others — adults 
— had, upon becoming Twelves, received in their 
instructions the same terrifying sentence? 

What if they had all been instructed: You may lie? 

His mind reeled. Now, empowered to ask questions of 
utmost rudeness — and promised answers — he could, 
conceivably (though it was almost unimaginable), ask 
someone, some adult, his father perhaps: "Do you lie?- 

But he would have no way of knowing if the answer he 
received were true. 


70 


71 



10 


"I go in here, Jonas," Fiona told him when they reached 
the front door of the House of the Old after parking their 
bicycles in the designated area. 

"I don't know why I'm nervous," she confessed. "I've 
been here so often before." She turned her folder over in 
her hands. 

"Well, everything's different now," Jonas reminded her. 

"Even the nameplates on our bikes," Fiona laughed. 
During the night the nameplate of each new Twelve had 
been removed by the Maintenance Crew and replaced with 
the style that indicated citizen-in-training. 

"I don't want to be late," she said hastily, and started up 
the steps. "If we finish at the same time, I'll ride home with 
you." 

Jonas nodded, waved to her, and headed around the 
building toward the Annex, a small wing attached to the 
back. He certainly didn't want to be late for his first day of 
training, either. 

The Annex was very ordinary, its door unremarkable. He 
reached for the heavy handle, then noticed a buzzer on the 
wall. So he buzzed instead. 


"Yes?" The voice came through a small speaker above 
the buzzer. 

"It's, uh, Jonas. I'm the new — I mean — " 

„Come in.” A click indicated that the door had been 
unlatched. 

The lobby was very small and contained only a desk at 
which a female Attendant sat working on some papers. She 
looked up when he entered; then, to his surprise, she stood. 
It was a small thing, the standing; but no one had ever 
stood automatically to acknowledge Jonas's presence 
before. 

"Welcome, Receiver of Memory," she said respectfully. 

"Oh, please," he replied uncomfortably. "Call me 
Jonas." 

She smiled, pushed a button, and he heard a click that 
unlocked the door to her left. "You may go right on in," 
she told him. 

Then she seemed to notice his discomfort and to realize 
its origin. No doors in the community were locked, ever. 
None that Jonas knew of, anyway. 

"The locks are simply to insure The Receiver's privacy 
because he needs concentration," she explained. "It would 
be difficult if citizens wandered in, looking for the Depart- 
ment of Bicycle Repair, or something." 

Jonas laughed, relaxing a little. The woman seemed 
very friendly, and it was true — in fact it was a joke 
throughout the community — that the Department of Bi- 
cycle Repair, an unimportant little office, was relocated so 
often that no one ever knew where it was. 

"There is nothing dangerous here," she told him. "But," 
she added, glancing at the wall clock, "he doesn't like to 
be kept waiting." 


72 


73 



Jonas hurried through the door and found himself in a 
comfortably furnished living area. It was not unlike his own 
family unit's dwelling. Furniture was standard throughout 
the community: practical, sturdy, the function of each piece 
clearly defined. A bed for sleeping. A table for eating. A 
desk for studying. 

All of those things were in this spacious room, though 
each was slightly different from those in his own dwelling. 
The fabrics on the upholstered chairs and sofa were slightly 
thicker and more luxurious; the table legs were not straight 
like those at home, but slender and curved, with a small 
carved decoration at the foot. The bed, in an alcove at the 
far end of the room, was draped with a splendid cloth 
embroidered over its entire surface with intricate de-signs. 

But the most conspicuous difference was the books. In 
his own dwelling, there were the necessary reference vol- 
umes that each household contained: a dictionary, and the 
thick community volume which contained descriptions of 
every office, factory, building, and committee. And the 
Book of Rules, of course. 

The books in his own dwelling were the only books that 
Jonas had ever seen. He had never known that other books 
existed. 

But this room's walls were completely covered by 
bookcases, filled, which reached to the ceiling. There must 
have been hundreds — perhaps thousands — of books, their 
titles embossed in shiny letters. 

Jonas stared at them. He couldn't imagine what the 
thousands of pages contained. Could there be rules beyond 
the rules that governed the community? Could there be 


more descriptions of offices and factories and committees? 

He had only a second to look around because he was 
aware that the man sitting in a chair beside the table was 
watching him. Hastily he moved forward, stood before the 
man, bowed slightly, and said, "I'm Jonas." 

"I know. Welcome, Receiver of Memory." 

Jonas recognized the man. He was the Elder who had 
seemed separate from the others at the Ceremony, though 
he was dressed in the same special clothing that only 
Elders wore. 

Jonas looked self-consciously into the pale eyes that 
mirrored his own. 

"Sir, I apologize for my lack of understanding...." 

He waited, but the man did not give the standard 
accepting-of-apology response. 

After a moment, Jonas went on, "But I thought — I 
mean I think, " he corrected, reminding himself that if pre- 
cision of language were ever to be important, it was cer- 
tainly important now, in the presence of this man, "that you 
are the receiver of Memory. I'm only, well, I was only 
assigned, I mean selected, yesterday. I'm not anything at 
all. Not yet." 

The man looked at him thoughtfully, silently. It was a 
look that combined interest, curiosity, concern, and per- 
haps a little sympathy as well. 

Finally he spoke. "Beginning today, this moment, at 
least to me, you are The Receiver. 

"I have been The Receiver for a long time. A very, very 
long time. You can see that, can't you?" 

Jonas nodded. The man was wrinkled, and his eyes, 
though piercing in their unusual lightness, seemed tired. 


74 


75 



The flesh around them was darkened into shadowed circles. 

"I can see that you are very old," Jonas responded with 
respect. The Old were always given the highest respect. 

The man smiled. He touched the sagging flesh on his 
own face with amusement. "I am not, actually, as old as I 
look," he told Jonas. "This job has aged me. I know I look 
as if I should be scheduled for release very soon. But actu- 
ally I have a good deal of time left. 

"I was pleased, though, when you were selected. It took 
them a long time. The failure of the previous selection was 
ten years ago, and my energy is starting to diminish. I need 
what strength I have remaining for your training. We have 
hard and painful work to do, you and I. 

"Please sit down," he said, and gestured toward the 
nearby chair. Jonas lowered himself onto the soft cushioned 
seat. 

The man closed his eyes and continued speaking. "When 
I became a Twelve, I was selected, as you were. I was 
frightened, as I'm sure you are." He opened his eyes for a 
moment and peered at Jonas, who nodded. 

The eyes closed again. "I came to this very room to 
begin my training. It was such a long time ago. 

"The previous Receiver seemed just as old to me as I do 
to you. He was just as tired as I am today." 

He sat forward suddenly, opened his eyes, and said, 
"You may ask questions. I have so little experience in de- 
scribing this process. It is forbidden to talk of it." 

"I know, sir. I have read the instructions," Jonas said. 

"So I may neglect to make things as clear as I should." 
The man chuckled. "My job is important and has enormous 
honor. But that does not mean I am perfect, and 


when I tried before to train a successor, I failed. Please ask 
any questions that will help you." 

In his mind, Jonas had questions. A thousand. A million 
questions. As many questions as there were books lining 
the walls. But he did not ask one, not yet. 

The man sighed, seeming to put his thoughts in order. 
Then he spoke again. "Simply stated," he said, "although 
it's not really simple at all, my job is to transmit to you all 
the memories I have within me. Memories of the past." 

"Sir," Jonas said tentatively, "I would be very interested 
to hear the story of your life, and to listen to your 
memories. 

"I apologize for interrupting," he added quickly. 

The man waved his hand impatiently. "No apologies in 
this room. We haven't time." 

"Well," Jonas went on, uncomfortably aware that he 
might be interrupting again, "I am really interested, I don't 
mean that I'm not. But I don't exactly understand why it's 
so important. I could do some adult job in the community, 
and in my recreation time I could come and listen to the 
stories from your childhood. I'd like that. Actually," he 
added, "I've done that already, in the House of the Old. 
The Old like to tell about their childhoods, and it's always 
fun to listen." 

The man shook his head. "No, no," he said. "I'm not 
being clear. It's not my past, not my childhood that I must 
transmit to you. 

He leaned back, resting his head against the back of the 
upholstered chair. "It's the memories of the whole world," 
he said with a sigh. "Before you, before me, before the 
previous Receiver, and generations before him." 

Jonas frowned. "The whole world?" he asked. "I don't 


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understand. Do you mean not just us? Not just the 
community? Do you mean Elsewhere, too?-" He tried, in 
his mind, to grasp the concept. "I'm sorry, sir. I don't under- 
stand exactly. Maybe I'm not smart enough. I don't know 
what you mean when you say 'the whole world' or 'gener- 
ations before him.' I thought there was only us. I thought 
there was only now." 

"There's much more. There's all that goes beyond — all 
that is Elsewhere — and all that goes back, and back, and 
back. I received all of those, when I was selected. And here 
in this room, all alone, I re-experience them again and again. 
It is how wisdom comes. And how we shape our future." 

He rested for a moment, breathing deeply. "I am so 
weighted with them," he said. 

Jonas felt a terrible concern for the man, suddenly. 

"It's as if ... " The man paused, seeming to search his 
mind for the right words of description. "It's like going 
downhill through deep snow on a sled," he said, finally. "At 
first it's exhilarating: the speed; the sharp, clear air; but 
then the snow accumulates, builds up on the runners, and 
you slow, you have to push hard to keep going, and — " 

He shook his head suddenly, and peered at Jonas. "That 
meant nothing to you, did it?" he asked. 

Jonas was confused. "I didn't understand it, sir." 

"Of course you didn't. You don't know what snow is, do 
you?" 

Jonas shook his head. 

"Or a sled? Runners?" 

"No, sir," Jonas said. 


"Downhill? The term means nothing to you?" 

"Nothing, sir." 

Well, it's a place to start. I'd been wondering how to 
begin. Move to the bed, and lie face down. Remove your 
tunic first." 

Jonas did so, a little apprehensively. Beneath his bare 
chest, he felt the soft folds of the magnificent cloth that 
covered the bed. He watched as the man rose and moved 
first to the wall where the speaker was. It was the same 
sort of speaker that occupied a place in every dwelling, but 
one thing about it was different. This one had a switch, 
which the man deftly snapped to the end that said OFF. 

Jonas almost gasped aloud. To have the power to turn 
the speaker off. It was an astonishing thing. 

Then the man moved with surprising quickness to the 
corner where the bed was. He sat on a chair beside Jonas, 
who was motionless, waiting for what would happen next. 

"Close your eyes. Relax. This will not be painful." 

Jonas remembered that he was allowed, that he had even 
been encouraged, to ask questions. "What are you going to 
do, sir?" he asked, hoping that his voice didn't betray his 
nervousness. 

"I am going to transmit the memory of snow," the old 
man said, and placed his hands on Jonas's bare back. 


78 


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11 


Jonas felt nothing unusual at first. He felt only the light 
touch of the old man's hands on his back. 

He tried to relax, to breathe evenly. The room was ab- 
solutely silent, and for a moment Jonas feared that he might 
disgrace himself now, on the first day of his training, by 
falling asleep. 

Then he shivered. He realized that the touch of the hands 
felt, suddenly, cold. At the same instant, breathing in, he felt 
the air change, and his very breath was cold. He licked his 
lips, and in doing so, his tongue touched the suddenly chilled 
air. 

It was very startling; but he was not at all frightened, 
now. He was filled with energy, and he breathed again, 
feeling the sharp intake of frigid air. Now, too, he could feel 
cold air swirling around his entire body. He felt it blow 
against his hands where they lay at his sides, and over his 
back. 

The touch of the man's hands seemed to have disap- 
peared. 

Now he became aware of an entirely new sensation: 
pinpricks? No, because they were soft and without pain. 
Tiny, cold, featherlike feelings peppered his body and face. 
He put out his tongue again, and caught one of the 


dots of cold upon it. It disappeared from his awareness in- 
stantly; but he caught another, and another. The sensation 
made him smile. 

One part of his consciousness knew that he was still lying 
there, on the bed, in the Annex room. Yet another, separate 
part of his being was upright now, in a sitting position, and 
beneath him he could feel that he was not on the soft 
decorated bedcovering at all, but rather seated on a flat, hard 
surface. His hands now held (though at the same time they 
were still motionless at his sides) a rough, damp rope. 

And he could see, though his eyes were closed. He could 
see a bright, whirling torrent of crystals in the air around 
him, and he could see them gather on the backs of his hands, 
like cold fur. 

His breath was visible. 

Beyond, through the swirl of what he now, somehow, 
perceived was the thing the old man had spoken of — snow 
— he could look out and down a great distance. He was up 
high someplace. The ground was thick with the furry snow, 
but he sat slightly above it on a hard, flat object. 

Sled, he knew abruptly. He was sitting on a thing called 
sled. And the sled itself seemed to be poised at the top of a 
long, extended mound that rose from the very land where he 
was. Even as he thought the word "mound," his new 
consciousness told him hill. 

Then the sled, with Jonas himself upon it, began to move 
through the snowfall, and he understood instantly that now 
he was going downhill. No voice made an explanation. The 
experience explained itself to him. 

His face cut through the frigid air as he began the de- 


80 


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scent, moving through the substance called snow on the 
vehicle called sled, which propelled itself on what he now 
knew without doubt to be runners. 

Comprehending all of those things as he sped down- 
ward, he was free to enjoy the breathless glee that over- 
whelmed him: the speed, the clear cold air, the total silence, 
the feeling of balance and excitement and peace. 

Then, as the angle of incline lessened, as the mound — 
the hill — flattened, nearing the bottom, the sled's for-ward 
motion slowed. The snow was piled now around it, and he 
pushed with his body, moving it forward, not wanting the 
exhilarating ride to end. 

Finally the obstruction of the piled snow was too much 
for the thin runners of the sled, and he came to a stop. Fie 
sat there for a moment, panting, holding the rope in his cold 
hands. Tentatively he opened his eyes — not his snow-hill- 
sled eyes, for they had been open throughout the strange 
ride. Fie opened his ordinary eyes, and saw that he was still 
on the bed, that he had not moved at all. 

The old man, still beside the bed, was watching him. 
'Flow do you fee" he asked. 

Jonas sat up and tried to answer honestly. "Surprised," 
he said, after a moment. 

The old man wiped his forehead with his sleeve. 
"Whew," he said. "It was exhausting. But you know, even 
transmitting that tiny memory to you — I think it lightened 
me just a little." 

"Do you mean — you did say I could ask questions:" 
The man nodded, encouraging his question. 

"Do you mean that now you don't have the memory of it 
— of that ride on the sled — anymore?" 


"That's right. A little weight off this old body." 

"But it was such fun! And now you don't have it any- 
more! I took it from you!" 

But the old man laughed. "All I gave you was one ride, 
on one sled, in one snow, on one hill. I have a whole world 
of them in my memory. I could give them to you one by 
one, a thousand times, and there would still be more." 

"Are you saying that I — I mean we — could do it 
again?" Jonas asked. "I'd really like to. I think I could 
steer, by pulling the rope. I didn't try this time, because it 
was so new. 

The old man, laughing, shook his head. "Maybe an- 
other day, for a treat. But there's no time, really, just to 
play. I only wanted to begin by showing you how it works. 

"Now," he said, turning businesslike, "Lie back down. I 
want to — " 

Jonas did. He was eager for whatever experience would 
come next. But he had, suddenly, so many questions. 

"Why don't we have snow, and sleds, and hills.'" he 
asked. "And when did we, in the past? Did my parents have 
sleds when they were young? Did you?" 

The old man shrugged and gave a short laugh. "No," he 
told Jonas. "It's a very distant memory. That's why it was 
so exhausting — I had to tug it forward from many 
generations back. It was given to me when I was a new 
Receiver, and the previous Receiver had to pull it through a 
long time period, too." 

"But what happened to those things? Snow, and the rest 
of it?" 

"Climate Control. Snow made growing food difficult, 
limited the agricultural periods. And unpredictable weath- 


82 


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er made transportation almost impossible at times. It wasn't 
a practical thing, so it became obsolete when we went to 
Sameness. 

"And hills, too," he added. "They made conveyance of 
goods unwieldy. Trucks; buses. Slowed them down. So — " 
He waved his hand, as if a gesture had caused hills to 
disappear. "Sameness," he concluded. 

Jonas frowned. "I wish we had those things, still. Just 
now and then." 

The old man smiled. "So do I" he said. "But that choice 
is not ours." 

"But sir," Jonas suggested, "since you have so much 
power — " 

The man corrected him. "Honor," he said firmly. "I have 
great honor. So will you. But you will find that that is not 
the same as power. 

"Lie quietly now. Since we've entered into the topic of 
climate, let me give you something else. And this time I'm 
not going to tell you the name of it, because I want to test 
the receiving. You should be able to perceive the name 
without being told. I gave away snow and sled and down- 
hill and runners by telling them to you in advance." 

Without being instructed, Jonas closed his eyes again. 
He felt the hands on his back again. He waited. 

Now it came more quickly, the feelings. This time the 
hands didn't become cold, but instead began to feel warm 
on his body. They moistened a little. The warmth spread, 
extending across his shoulders, up his neck, onto the side of 
his face. He could feel it through his clothed parts, too: a 
pleasant, all-over sensation; and when he licked his lips 
this time, the air was hot and heavy. 


He didn't move. There was no sled. His posture didn't 
change. He was simply alone someplace, out of doors, 
lying down, and the warmth came from far above. It was 
not as exciting as the ride through the snowy air; but it was 
pleasurable and comforting. 

Suddenly he perceived the word for it: sunshine. He 
perceived that it came from the sky. 

Then it ended. 

"Sunshine,” he said aloud, opening his eyes. 

"Good. You did get the word. That makes my job easier. 
Not so much explaining." 

"And it came from the sky." 

"That's right," the old man said. "Just the way it used to. 

"Before Sameness. Before Climate Control," Jonas 
added. 

The man laughed. "You receive well, and learn quickly. 
I'm very pleased with you. That's enough for today, I think. 
We're off to a good start." 

There was a question bothering Jonas. "Sir," he said, 
"The Chief Elder told me — she told everyone — and you 
told me, too, that it would be painful. So I was a little 
scared. But it didn't hurt at all. I really enjoyed it." He 
looked quizzically at the old man. 

The man sighed. "I started you with memories of pleas- 
ure. My previous failure gave me the wisdom to do that." 
He took a few deep breaths. "Jonas," he said, "it will be 
painful. But it need not be painful yet." 

"I'm brave. I really am." Jonas sat up a little straighten 
The old man looked at him for a moment. He smiled. 
"I can see that," he said. "Well, since you asked the ques- 


84 


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tion — I think I have enough energy for one more trans- 
mission. 

"Lie down once more. This will be the last today." 

Jonas obeyed cheerfully. He closed his eyes, waiting, 
and felt the hands again; then he felt the warmth again, the 
sunshine again, coming from the sky of this other con- 
sciousness that was so new to him. This time, as he lay 
basking in the wonderful warmth, he felt the passage of 
time. His real self was aware that it was only a minute or 
two; but his other, memory-receiving self felt hours pass in 
the sun. His skin began to sting. Restlessly he moved one 
arm, bending it, and felt a sharp pain in the crease of his 
inner arm at the elbow. 

"Ouch," he said loudly, and shifted on the bed. 
"Owwww," he said, wincing at the shift, and even mm - ing 
his mouth to speak made his face hurt. 

He knew there was a word, but the pain kept him from 
grasping it. 

Then it ended. He opened his eyes, wincing with dis- 
comfort. "It hurt," he told the man, "and I couldn't get the 
word for it." 

"It was sunburn," the old man told him. 

"It hurt a lot, " Jonas said, "but I'm glad you gave it to 
me. It was interesting. And now I understand better, what it 
meant, that there would be pain." 

The man didn't respond. He sat silently for a second. 
Finally he said, "Get up, now. It's time for you to go home." 

They both walked to the center of the room. Jonas put 
his tunic back on. "Goodbye, sir," he said. "Thank you for 
my first day." 


The old man nodded to him. He looked drained, and a 
little sad. 

"Sir?" Jonas said shyly. 

"Yes? Do you have a question?-" 

"It's just that I don't know your name. I thought you were 
The Receiver, but you say that now I’m The Receiver. So I 
don't know what to call you." 

The man had sat back down in the comfortable uphol- 
stered chair. He moved his shoulders around as if to ease 
away an aching sensation. He seemed terribly weary. 

"Call me The Giver," he told Jonas. 


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12 


"You slept soundly, Jonas?" his mother asked at the 
morning meal. "No dreams?" 

Jonas simply smiled and nodded, not ready to lie, not 
willing to tell the truth. "I slept very soundly," he said. 

"I wish this one would," his father said, leaning down 
from his chair to touch Gabriel's waving fist. The basket 
was on the floor beside him; in its corner, beside Gabriel's 
head, the stuffed hippo sat staring with its blank eyes. 

"So do I," Mother said, rolling her eyes. "He's so fretful 
at night." 

Jonas had not heard the newchild during the night be- 
cause as always, he had slept soundly. But it was not true 
that he had no dreams. 

Again and again, as he slept, he had slid down that 
snow-covered hill. Always, in the dream, it seemed as if 
there were a destination: a something — he could not 
grasp what — that lay beyond the place where the 
thickness of snow brought the sled to a stop. 

He was left, upon awakening, with the feeling that he 
wanted, even somehow needed, to reach the something that 
waited in the distance. The feeling that it was good. That it 
was welcoming. That it was significant. 


But he did not know how to get there. 

He tried to shed the leftover dream, gathering his 
schoolwork and preparing for the day. 

School seemed a little different today. The classes were 
the same: language and communications; commerce and 
industry; science and technology; civil procedures and gov- 
ernment. But during the breaks for recreation periods and 
the midday meal, the other new Twelves were abuzz with 
descriptions of their first day of training. All of them talked 
at once, interrupting each other, hastily making the required 
apology for interrupting, then forgetting again in the 
excitement of describing the new experiences. 

Jonas listened. He was very aware of his own admoni- 
tion not to discuss his training. But it would have been im- 
possible, anyway. There was no way to describe to his 
friends what he had experienced there in the Annex room. 
How could you describe a sled without describing a hill and 
snow; and how could you describe a hill and snow to 
someone who had never felt height or wind or that feathery, 
magical cold? 

Even trained for years as they all had been in precision 
of language, what words could you use which would give 
another the experience of sunshine? 

So it was easy for Jonas to be still and to listen. 

After school hours he rode again beside Fiona to the 
House of the Old. 

"I looked for you yesterday," she told him, "so we could 
ride home together. Your bike was still there, and I waited 
for a little while. But it was getting late, so I went on 
home." 

"I apologize for making you wait," Jonas said. 


89 



"I accept your apology," she replied automatically. 

"I stayed a little longer than I expected," Jonas ex- 
plained. 

She pedaled forward silently, and he knew that she ex- 
pected him to tell her why. She expected him to describe 
his first day of training. But to ask would have fallen into 
the category of rudeness. 

"You've been doing so many volunteer hours with the 
Old," Jonas said, changing the subject. "There won't be 
much that you don't already know." 

"Oh, there's lots to learn," Fiona replied. "There's ad- 
ministrative work, and the dietary rules, and punishment 
for disobedience — did you know that they use a disci- 
pline wand on the Old, the same as for small children? 
And there's occupational therapy, and recreational activi- 
ties, and medications, and — " 

They reached the building and braked their bikes. 

"I really think I'll like it better than school," Fiona con- 
fessed. 

"Me too," Jonas agreed, wheeling his bike into its 
place. 

She waited for a second, as if, again, she expected him 
to go on. Then she looked at her watch, waved, and hurried 
toward the entrance. 

Jonas stood for a moment beside his bike, startled. It 
had happened again: the thing that he thought of now as 
"seeing beyond." This time it had been Fiona who had 
undergone that fleeting indescribable change. As he looked 
up and toward her going through the door, it happened; she 
changed. Actually, Jonas thought, trying to re-create it in 
his mind, it wasn't Fiona in her entirety. It 


seemed to be just her hair. And just for that flickering in- 
stant. 

He ran through it in his mind. It was clearly beginning to 
happen more often. First, the apple a few weeks before. The 
next time had been the faces in the audience at the 
Auditorium, just two days ago. Now, today, Fiona's hair. 

Frowning, Jonas walked toward the Annex. I will ask 
The Giver, he decided. 

The old man looked up, smiling, when Jonas entered the 
room. He was already seated beside the bed, and he seemed 
more energetic today, slightly renewed, and glad to see 
Jonas. 

"Welcome," he said. "We must get started. You're one 
minute late." 

"I apologi — " Jonas began, and then stopped, flustered, 
remembering there were to be no apologies. 

He removed his tunic and went to the bed. "I'm one 
minute late because something happened," he explained. 
"And I'd like to ask you about it, if you don't mind." 

You may ask me anything." 

Jonas tried to sort it out in his mind so that he could 
explain it clearly. "I think it's what you call seeing-beyond," 
he said. 

The Giver nodded. "Describe it," he said. 

Jonas told him about the experience with the apple. 
Then the moment on the stage, when he had looked out 
and seen the same phenomenon in the faces of the crowd. 
"Then today, just now, outside, it happened with my 
friend Fiona. She herself didn't change, exactly. But 
something about her changed for a second. Her hair looked 
different; but not in its shape, not in its length. I can't 


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quite — " Jonas paused, frustrated by his inability to grasp 
and describe exactly what had occurred. 

Finally he simply said, "It changed. I don't know how, or 
why. 

"That's why I was one minute late," he concluded, and 
looked questioningly at The Giver. 

To his surprise, the old man asked him a question which 
seemed unrelated to the seeing-beyond. "When I gave you 
the memory yesterday, the first one, the ride on the sled, 
did you look around?" 

Jonas nodded. "Yes," he said, "but the stuff — I mean 
the snow — in the air made it hard to see anything." "Did 
you look at the sled?" 

Jonas thought back. "No. I only felt it under me. I 
dreamed of it last night, too. But I don't remember seeing 
the sled in my dream, either. Just feeling it." 

The Giver seemed to be thinking. 

"When I was observing you, before the selection, I per- 
ceived that you probably had the capacity, and what you 
describe confirms that. It happened somewhat differently to 
me," The Giver told him. "When I was just your age — 
about to become the new Receiver — I began to experience 
it, though it took a different form. With me it was ... well, I 
won't describe that now; you wouldn't under-stand it yet. 

"But I think I can guess how it's happening with you. 
Let me just make a little test, to confirm my guess. Lie 
down." 

Jonas lay on the bed again with his hands at his sides. 
He felt comfortable here now. He closed his eyes and 
waited for the familiar feel of The Giver's hands on his 
back. 


But it didn't come. Instead, The Giver instructed him, 
"Call back the memory of the ride on the sled. Just the be- 
ginning of it, where you're at the top of the hill, before the 
slide starts. And this time, look down at the sled." 

Jonas was puzzled. He opened his eyes. "Excuse me," he 
asked politely, "but don't you have to give me the 
memory?" 

"It's your memory, now, It's not mine to experience any 
longer. I gave it away." 

"But how can I call it back?" 

"You can remember last year, or the year that you were 
a Seven, or a Five, can't you?" 

"Of course." 

"It's much the same. Everyone in the community has 
one-generation memories like those. But now you will be 
able to go back farther. Try. Just concentrate." 

Jonas closed his eyes again. He took a deep breath and 
sought the sled and the hill and the snow in his conscious- 
ness. 

There they were, with no effort. He was again sitting in 
that whirling world of snowflakes, atop the hill. 

Jonas grinned with delight, and blew his own steamy 
breath into view. Then, as he had been instructed, he 
looked down. He saw his own hands, furred again with 
snow, holding the rope. He saw his legs, and moved them 
aside for a glimpse of the sled beneath. 

Dumbfounded, he stared at it. This time it was not a 
fleeting impression. This time the sled had — and contin- 
ued to have, as he blinked, and stared at it again — that 
same mysterious quality that the apple had had so briefly. 
And Fiona's hair. The sled did not change. It simply was — 
whatever the thing was. 


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Jonas opened his eyes and was still on the bed. The 
Giver was watching him curiously. 

"Yes," Jonas said slowly. "I saw it, in the sled." 

"Let me try one more thing. Look over there, to the 
bookcase. Do you see the very top row of books, the ones 
behind the table, on the top shelf?" 

Jonas sought them with his eyes. He stared at them, and 
they changed. But the change was fleeting. It slipped away 
the next instant. 

"It happened," Jonas said. "It happened to the books, but 
it went away again." 

"I'm right, then," The Giver said. "You're beginning to 
see the color red." 

"The what?" 

The Giver sighed. "How to explain this? Once, back in 
the time of the memories, everything had a shape and size, 
the way things still do, but they also had a quality called 
color. 

"There were a lot of colors, and one of them was called 
red. That's the one you are starting to see. Your friend 
Fiona has red hair — quite distinctive, actually; I've noticed 
it before. When you mentioned Fiona's hair, it was the clue 
that told me you were probably beginning to see the color 
red." 

"And the faces of people? The ones I saw at the Cere- 
mony?" 

The Giver shook his head. "No, flesh isn't red. But it has 
red tones in it. There was a time, actually — you'll see this 
in the memories later — when flesh was many different 
colors. That was before we went to Sameness. Today flesh 
is all the same, and what you saw was the red tones. 


Probably when you saw the faces take on color it wasn't as 
deep or vibrant as the apple, or your friend's hair." 

The Giver chuckled, suddenly. "We've never completely 
mastered Sameness. I suppose the genetic scientists are still 
hard at work trying to work the kinks out. Hair like Fiona's 
must drive them crazy." 

Jonas listened, trying hard to comprehend. "And the 
sled?" he said. "It had that same thing: the color red. But it 
didn't change, Giver. It just was. " 

"Because it's a memory from the time when color was. " 
"It was so — oh, I wish language were more precise! The 
red was so beautiful!" 

The Giver nodded. "It is." 

"Do you see it all the time?" 

"I see all of them. All the colors." 

"Will I?" 

"Of course. When you receive the memories. You have 
the capacity to see beyond. You'll gain wisdom, then, along 
with colors. And lots more." 

Jonas wasn't interested, just then, in wisdom. It was the 
colors that fascinated him. "Why can't everyone see them? 
Why did colors disappear?" 

The Giver shrugged. "Our people made that choice, the 
choice to go to Sameness. Before my time, before the 
previous time, back and back and back. We relinquished 
color when we relinquished sunshine and did away with 
differences." He thought for a moment. "We gained control 
of many things. But we had to let go of others." 

"We shouldn't have!" Jonas said fiercely. 

The Giver looked startled at the certainty of Jonas's re- 
action. Then he smiled wryly. "You've come very quickly 


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to that conclusion," he said. "It took me many years. Maybe 
your wisdom will come much more quickly than mine." 

He glanced at the wall clock. "Lie back down, now. We 
have so much to do." 

"Giver," Jonas asked as he arranged himself again on the 
bed, "how did it happen to you when you were be-coming 
The Receiver? You said that the seeing-beyond happened to 
you, but not the same way." 

The hands came to his back. "Another day," The Giver 
said gently. "I'll tell you another day. Now we must work. 
And I've thought of a way to help you with the concept of 
color. 

"Close your eyes and be still, now. I'm going to give you 
a memory of a rainbow." 


13 


Days went by, and weeks. Jonas learned, through the 
memories, the names of colors; and now he began to see 
them all, in his ordinary life (though he knew it was ordi- 
nary no longer, and would never be again). But they didn't 
last. There would be a glimpse of green — the landscaped 
lawn around the Central Plaza; a bush on the riverbank. The 
bright orange of pumpkins being trucked in from the 
agricultural fields beyond the community boundary — seen 
in an instant, the flash of brilliant color, but gone again, 
returning to their flat and hueless shade. 

The Giver told him that it would be a very long time 
before he had the colors to keep. 

"But I want them!" Jonas said angrily. "It isn't fair that 
nothing has color!" 

"Not fair?" The Giver looked at Jonas curiously. "Ex- 
plain what you mean." 

"Well ...” Jonas had to stop and think it through. "If 
everything's the same, then there aren't any choices! I want 
to wake up in the morning and decide things! A blue tunic, 
or a red one?" 

He looked down at himself, at the colorless fabric of his 
clothing. "But it's all the same, always." 


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Then he laughed a little. "I know it's not important, what 
you wear. It doesn't matter. But — 

"It's the choosing that's important, isn't it?" The Giver 
asked him. 

Jonas nodded. "My little brother — " he began, and then 
corrected himself. "No, that's inaccurate. He's not my 
brother, not really. But this newchild that my family takes 
care of — his name's Gabriel?" 

"Yes, I know about Gabriel." 

"Well, he's right at the age where he's learning so much. 
He grabs toys when we hold them in front of him — my 
father says he's learning small-muscle control. And he's 
really cute." 

The Giver nodded. 

"But now that I can see colors, at least sometimes, I was 
just thinking: what if we could hold up things that were 
bright red, or bright yellow, and he could choose? Instead 
of the Sameness." 

"He might make wrong choices." 

"Oh." Jonas was silent for a minute. "Oh, I see what you 
mean. It wouldn't matter for a newchild's toy. But later it 
does matter, doesn't it? We don't dare to let people make 
choices of their own." 

"Not safe?" The Giver suggested. 

"Definitely not safe," Jonas said with certainty. "What if 
they were allowed to choose their own mate? And chose 
wrong? 

"Or what if," he went on, almost laughing at the ab- 
surdity, "they chose their own jobs? " 

"Frightening, isn't it?" The Giver said. 

Jonas chuckled. "Very frightening. I can't even imagine 
it. We really have to protect people from wrong choices." 


"It's safer." 

"Yes," Jonas agreed. "Much safer." 

But when the conversation turned to other things, Jonas 
was left, still, with a feeling of frustration that he didn't 
understand. 

He found that he was often angry, now: irrationally 
angry at his groupmates, that they were satisfied with their 
lives which had none of the vibrance his own was taking 
on. And he was angry at himself, that he could not change 
that for them. 

He tried. Without asking permission from The Giver, 
because he feared — or knew — that it would be denied, he 
tried to give his new awareness to his friends. 

"Asher," Jonas said one morning, "look at those flowers 
very carefully." They were standing beside a bed of 
geraniums planted near the Hall of Open Records. He put 
his hands on Asher's shoulders, and concentrated on the red 
of the petals, trying to hold it as long as he could, and 
trying at the same time to transmit the awareness of red to 
his friend. 

"What's the matter?" Asher asked uneasily. "Is some- 
thing wrong?" He moved away from Jonas's hands. It was 
extremely rude for one citizen to touch another outside of 
family units. 

"No, nothing. I thought for a minute that they were 
wilting, and we should let the Gardening Crew know they 
needed more watering." Jonas sighed, and turned away. 

One evening he came home from his training weighted 
with new knowledge. The Giver had chosen a startling and 
disturbing memory that day. Under the touch of his hands, 
Jonas had found himself suddenly in a place that was 
completely alien: hot and windswept under a vast 


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blue sky. There were tufts of sparse grass, a few bushes 
and rocks, and nearby he could see an area of thicker vege- 
tation: broad, low trees outlined against the sky. He could 
hear noises: the sharp crack of weapons — he perceived 
the word guns — and then shouts, and an immense crashing 
thud as something fell, tearing branches from the trees. 

He heard voices calling to one another. Peering from the 
place where he stood hidden behind some shrubbery, he 
was reminded of what The Giver had told him, that there 
had been a time when flesh had different colors. Two of 
these men had dark brown skin; the others were light. 
Going closer, he watched them hack the tusks from a mo- 
tionless elephant on the ground and haul them away, 
spattered with blood. He felt himself overwhelmed with a 
new perception of the color he knew as red. 

Then the men were gone, speeding toward the horizon 
in a vehicle that spit pebbles from its whirling tires. One 
hit his forehead and stung him there. But the memory 
continued, though Jonas ached now for it to end. 

Now he saw another elephant emerge from the place 
where it had stood hidden in the trees. Very slowly it 
walked to the mutilated body and looked down. With its 
sinuous trunk it stroked the huge corpse; then it reached 
up, broke some leafy branches with a snap, and draped 
them over the mass of torn thick flesh. 

Finally it tilted its massive head, raised its trunk, and 
roared into the empty landscape. Jonas had never heard 
such a sound. It was a sound of rage and grief and it 
seemed never to end. 

He could still hear it when he opened his eyes and lay 
anguished on the bed where he received the memories. It 


continued to roar into his consciousness as he pedaled 
slowly home. 

"Lily," he asked that evening when his sister took her 
comfort object, the stuffed elephant, from the shelf, "did 
you know that once there really were elephants? Live 
ones?" 

She glanced down at the ragged comfort object and 
grinned. "Right," she said, skeptically. "Sure, Jonas." 

Jonas went and sat beside them while his father untied 
Lily's hair ribbons and combed her hair. He placed one hand 
on each of their shoulders. With all of his being he tried to 
give each of them a piece of the memory: not of the tortured 
cry of the elephant, but of the being of the elephant, of the 
towering, immense creature and the meticulous touch with 
which it had tended its friend at the end. 

But his father had continued to comb Lily's long hair, 
and Lily, impatient, had finally wiggled under her brother's 
touch. "Jonas," she said, "you're hurting me with your 
hand." 

"I apologize for hurting you, Lily," Jonas mumbled, and 
took his hand away. 

" 'Ccept your apology," Lily responded indifferently, 
stroking the lifeless elephant. 

"Giver," Jonas asked once, as they prepared for the day's 
work, "don't you have a spouse? Aren't you allowed to 
apply for one?" Although he was exempted from the rules 
against rudeness, he was aware that this was a rude ques- 
tion. But The Giver had encouraged all of his questions, not 
seeming to be embarrassed or offended by even the most 
personal. 

The Giver chuckled. "No, there's no rule against it. 


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And I did have a spouse. You're forgetting how old I am, 
Jonas. My former spouse lives now with the Childless 
Adults." 

"Oh, of course." Jonas had forgotten The Giver's obvious 
age. When adults of the community became older, their 
lives became different. They were no longer needed to 
create family units. Jonas's own parents, when he and Lily 
were grown, would go to live with the Childless Adults. 

"You'll be able to apply for a spouse, Jonas, if you want 
to. I'll warn you, though, that it will be difficult. Your liv- 
ing arrangements will have to be different from those of 
most family units, because the books are forbidden to citi- 
zens. You and I are the only ones with access to the books." 

Jonas glanced around at the astonishing array of vol- 
umes. From time to time, now, he could see their colors. 
With their hours together, his and The Giver's, consumed by 
conversation and by the transmission of memories, Jonas 
had not yet opened any of the books. But he read the titles 
here and there, and knew that they contained all of the 
knowledge of centuries, and that one day they would belong 
to him. 

"So if I have a spouse, and maybe children, I will have to 
hide the books from them?" 

The Giver nodded. "I wasn't permitted to share the books 
with my spouse, that's correct. And there are other 
difficulties, too. You remember the rule that says the new 
Receiver can't talk about his training?" 

Jonas nodded. Of course he remembered. It had turned 
out, by far, to be the most frustrating of the rules he was 
required to obey. 


"When you become the official Receiver, when we're 
finished here, you'll be given a whole new set of rules. 
Those are the rules that I obey. And it won't surprise you 
that I am forbidden to talk about my work to anyone except 
the new Receiver. That's you, of course. 

"So there will be a whole part of your life which you 
won't be able to share with a family. It's hard, Jonas. It was 
hard for me. 

"You do understand, don't you, that this is my life? The 
memories?" 

Jonas nodded again, but he was puzzled. Didn't life 
consist of the things you did each day? There wasn't any- 
thing else, really. "I've seen you taking walks," he said. 

The Giver sighed. "I walk. I eat at mealtime. And when I 
am called by the Committee of Elders, I appear before 
them, to give them counsel and advice." 

"Do you advise them often?" Jonas was a little fright- 
ened at the thought that one day he would be the one to 
advise the ruling body. 

But The Giver said no. "Rarely. Only when they are 
faced with something that they have not experienced be- 
fore. Then they call upon me to use the memories and ad- 
vise them. But it very seldom happens. Sometimes I wish 
they'd ask for my wisdom more often — there are so many 
things I could tell them; things I wish they would change. 
But they don't want change. Life here is so orderly, so 
predictable — so painless. It's what they've chosen. 

"I don't know why they even need a Receiver, then, if 
they never call upon him," Jonas commented. 

"They need me. And you," The Giver said, but didn't 
explain. "They were reminded of that ten years ago." 


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"What happened ten years ago?" Jonas asked. "Oh, I 
know. You tried to train a successor and it failed. Why? 
Why did that remind them?" 

The Giver smiled grimly. "When the new Receiver 
failed, the memories that she had received were released. 
They didn't come back to me. They went ..." 

He paused, and seemed to be struggling with the concept. 
"I don't know, exactly. They went to the place where 
memories once existed before Receivers were created. 
Someplace out there — " He gestured vaguely with his arm. 
"And then the people had access to them. Apparently that's 
the way it was, once. Everyone had access to memories. 

"It was chaos," he said. "They really suffered for a while. 
Finally it subsided as the memories were assimilated. But it 
certainly made them aware of how they need a Receiver to 
contain all that pain. And knowledge." 

"But you have to suffer like that all the time," Jonas 
pointed out. 

The Giver nodded. "And you will. It's my life. It will be 
yours." 

Jonas thought about it, about what it would be like for 
him. "Along with walking and eating and — " He looked 
around the walls of books. "Reading? That's it?" 

The Giver shook his head. "Those are simply the things 
that I do, My life is here." 

"In this room?" 

The Giver shook his head. He put his hands to his own 
face, to his chest. "No. Here, in my being. Where the 
memories are." 

"My Instructors in science and technology have taught 


us about how the brain works," Jonas told him eagerly. "It's 
full of electrical impulses. It's like a computer. If you 
stimulate one part of the brain with an electrode, it — " He 
stopped talking. He could see an odd look on The Giver's 
face. 

"They know nothing," The Giver said bitterly. 

Jonas was shocked. Since the first day in the Annex 
room, they had together disregarded the rules about rude- 
ness, and Jonas felt comfortable with that now. But this 
was different, and far beyond rude. This was a terrible ac- 
cusation. What if someone had heard? 

He glanced quickly at the wall speaker, terrified that the 
Committee might be listening as they could at any time. 
But, as always during their sessions together, the switch 
had been turned to OFF. 

"Nothing?" Jonas whispered nervously. "But my in- 
structors — " 

The Giver flicked his hand as if brushing something 
aside. "Oh, your instructors are well trained. They know 
their scientific facts. Everyone is well trained for his job. 

"It's just that . . . without the memories it's all mean- 
ingless. They gave that burden to me. And to the previous 
Receiver. And the one before him." 

"And back and back and back," Jonas said, knowing the 
phrase that always came. 

The Giver smiled, though his smile was oddly harsh. 
"That's right. And next it will be you. A great honor." 

"Yes, sir. They told me that at the Ceremony. The very 
highest honor." 

Some afternoons The Giver sent him away without training. 
Jonas knew, on days when he arrived to find The 


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Giver hunched over, rocking his body slightly back and 
forth, his face pale, that he would be sent away. 

"Go," The Giver would tell him tensely. "I'm in pain 
today. Come back tomorrow." 

On those days, worried and disappointed, Jonas would 
walk alone beside the river. The paths were empty of peo- 
ple except for the few Delivery Crews and Landscape 
Workers here and there. Small children were all at the 
Childcare Center after school, and the older ones busy with 
volunteer hours or training. 

By himself, he tested his own developing memory. He 
watched the landscape for glimpses of the green that he 
knew was embedded in the shrubbery; when it came flick- 
ering into his consciousness, he focused upon it, keeping it 
there, darkening it, holding it in his vision as long as possi- 
ble until his head hurt and he let it fade away. 

He stared at the flat, colorless sky, bringing blue from it, 
and remembered sunshine until finally, for an instant, he 
could feel warmth. 

He stood at the foot of the bridge that spanned the river, 
the bridge that citizens were allowed to cross only on 
official business. Jonas had crossed it on school trips, visit- 
ing the outlying communities, and he knew that the land 
beyond the bridge was much the same, flat and well or- 
dered, with fields for agriculture. The other communities 
he had seen on visits were essentially the same as his own, 
the only differences were slightly altered styles of dwell- 
ings, slightly different schedules in the schools. 

He wondered what lay in the far distance where he had 
never gone. The land didn't end beyond those nearby com- 
munities. Were there hills Elsewhere? Were there vast 


wind-tom areas like the place he had seen in memory, the 
place where the elephant died? 

"Giver," he asked one afternoon following a day when he 
had been sent away, "what causes you pain?" 

When The Giver was silent, Jonas continued. "The Chief 
Elder told me, at the beginning, that the receiving of 
memory causes terrible pain. And you described for me that 
the failure of the last new Receiver released painful 
memories to the community. 

"But I haven't suffered, Giver. Not really." Jonas smiled. 
"Oh, I remember the sunburn you gave me on the very first 
day. But that wasn't so terrible. What is it that makes you 
suffer so much? If you gave some of it to me, maybe your 
pain would be less." 

The Giver nodded. "Lie down," he said. "It's time, I 
suppose. I can't shield you forever. You'll have to take it all 
on eventually. 

"Let me think," he went on, when Jonas was on the bed, 
waiting, a little fearful. 

"All right," The Giver said after a moment, "I've de- 
cided. We'll start with something familiar. Let's go once 
again to a hill, and a sled." 

He placed his hands on Jonas's back. 


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14 


It was much the same, this memory, though the hill seemed 
to be a different one, steeper, and the snow was not falling 
as thickly as it had before. 

It was colder, also, Jonas perceived. He could see, as he 
sat waiting at the top of the hill, that the snow beneath the 
sled was not thick and soft as it had been before, but hard, 
and coated with bluish ice. 

The sled moved forward, and Jonas grinned with de- 
light, looking forward to the breathtaking slide down 
through the invigorating air. 

But the runners, this time, couldn't slice through the 
frozen expanse as they had on the other, snow-cushioned 
hill. They skittered sideways and the sled gathered speed. 
Jonas pulled at the rope, trying to steer, but the steepness 
and speed took control from his hands and he was no 
longer enjoying the feeling of freedom but instead, terri- 
fied, was at the mercy of the wild acceleration downward 
over the ice. 

Sideways, spinning, the sled hit a bump in the hill and 
Jonas was jarred loose and thrown violently into the air. He 
fell with his leg twisted under him, and could hear the 
crack of bone. His face scraped along jagged edges of ice 


and when he came, at last, to a stop, he lay shocked and 
still, feeling nothing at first but fear. 

Then, the first wave of pain. He gasped. It was as if a 
hatchet lay lodged in his leg, slicing through each nerve 
with a hot blade. In his agony he perceived the word "fire" 
and felt flames licking at the tom bone and flesh. He tried 
to move, and could not. The pain grew. 

He screamed. There was no answer. 

Sobbing, he turned his head and vomited onto the frozen 
snow. Blood dripped from his face into the vomit. 

"NOOOOO!" he cried, and the sound disappeared into 
the empty landscape, into the wind. 

Then, suddenly, he was in the Annex room again, 
writhing on the bed. His face was wet with tears. 

Able to move now, he rocked his own body back and 
forth, breathing deeply to release the remembered pain. 

He sat, and looked at his own leg, where it lay straight 
on the bed, unbroken. The brutal slice of pain was gone. 
But the leg ached horribly, still, and his face felt raw. 

"May I have relief-of-pain, please?" he begged. It was 
always provided in his everyday life for the bruises and 
wounds, for a mashed finger, a stomach ache, a skinned 
knee from a fall from a bike. There was always a daub of 
anesthetic ointment, or a pill; or in severe instances, an in- 
jection that brought complete and instantaneous deliver- 
ance. 

But The Giver said no, and looked away. 

Limping, Jonas walked home, pushing his bicycle, that 
evening. The sunburn pain had been so small, in 
comparison, and had not stayed with him. But this ache 
lingered. 


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It was not unendurable, as the pain on the hill had been. 
Jonas tried to be brave. He remembered that the Chief Elder 
had said he was brave. 

"Is something wrong, Jonas?" his father asked at the 
evening meal. "You're so quiet tonight. Aren't you feeling 
well? Would you like some medication?" 

But Jonas remembered the rules. No medication for 
anything related to his training. 

And no discussion of his training. At the time for shar- 
ing-of-feelings, he simply said that he felt tired, that his 
school lessons had been unusually demanding that day. 

He went to his sleepingroom early, and from behind the 
closed door he could hear his parents and sister laughing as 
they gave Gabriel his evening bath. 

They have never known pain, he thought. The realiza- 
tion made him feel desperately lonely, and he rubbed his 
throbbing leg. He eventually slept. Again and again he 
dreamed of the anguish and the isolation on the forsaken 
hill. 

The daily training continued, and now it always included 
pain. The agony of the fractured leg began to seem no more 
than a mild discomfort as The Giver led Jonas firmly, little 
by little, into the deep and terrible suffering of the past. 
Each time, in his kindness, The Giver ended the afternoon 
with a color-filled memory of pleasure: a brisk sail on a 
blue-green lake; a meadow dotted with yellow wildflowers; 
an orange sunset behind mountains. 

It was not enough to assuage the pain that Jonas was 
beginning, now, to know. 

"Why?" Jonas asked him after he had received a tortur- 
ous memory in which he had been neglected and unfed; 


the hunger had caused excruciating spasms in his empty, 
distended stomach. He lay on the bed, aching. "Why do you 
and I have to hold these memories?" 

"It gives us wisdom," The Giver replied. "Without 
wisdom I could not fulfill my function of advising the 
Committee of Elders when they call upon me." 

"But what wisdom do you get from hunger?" Jonas 
groaned. His stomach still hurt, though the memory had 
ended. 

"Some years ago," The Giver told him, "before your 
birth, a lot of citizens petitioned the Committee of Elders. 
They wanted to increase the rate of births. They wanted 
each Birthmother to be assigned four births instead of three, 
so that the population would increase and there would be 
more Laborers available." 

Jonas nodded, listening. "That makes sense." 

"The idea was that certain family units could accom- 
modate an additional child." 

Jonas nodded again. "Mine could," he pointed out. "We 
have Gabriel this year, and it's fun, having a third child." 

"The Committee of Elders sought my advice," The Giver 
said. "It made sense to them, too, but it was a new idea, and 
they came to me for wisdom." 

"And you used your memories?" 

The Giver said yes. "And the strongest memory that 
came was hunger. It came from many generations back. 
Centuries back. The population had gotten so big that 
hunger was everywhere. Excruciating hunger and starva- 
tion. It was followed by warfare." 

Warfare? It was a concept Jonas did not know. But 
hunger was familiar to him now. Unconsciously he rubbed 


110 


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his own abdomen, recalling the pain of its unfulfilled 
needs. "So you described that to them?" 

"They don't want to hear about pain. They just seek the 
advice. I simply advised them against increasing the 
population." 

"But you said that that was before my birth. They hardly 
ever come to you for advice. Only when they — what was 
it you said? When they have a problem they've never 
faced before. When did it happen last?" 

"Do you remember the day when the plane flew over the 
community?" 

"Yes. I was scared." 

"So were they. They prepared to shoot it down. But they 
sought my advice. I told them to wait." 

"But how did you know? How did you know the pilot 
was lost?" 

"I didn't. I used my wisdom, from the memories. I knew 
that there had been times in the past — terrible times — 
when people had destroyed others in haste, in fear, and 
had brought about their own destruction." 

Jonas realized something. "That means," he said slowly, 
"that you have memories of destruction. And you have to 
give them to me, too, because I have to get the wisdom." 

The Giver nodded. 

"But it will hurt," Jonas said. It wasn't a question. 

"It will hurt terribly," The Giver agreed. 

"But why can't everyone have the memories? I think it 
would seem a little easier if the memories were shared. You 
and I wouldn't have to bear so much by ourselves, if eve- 
rybody took a part." 


The Giver sighed. "You're right," he said. "But then 
everyone would be burdened and pained. They don't want 
that. And that's the real reason The Receiver is so vital to 
them, and so honored. They selected me — and you — to 
lift that burden from themselves." 

"When did they decide that?" Jonas asked angrily. "It 
wasn't fair. Let's change it!" 

"How do you suggest we do that? I've never been able to 
think of a way, and I'm supposed to be the one with all the 
wisdom." 

"But there are two of us now," Jonas said eagerly. "To- 
gether we can think of something!" 

The Giver watched him with a wry smile. 

"Why can't we just apply for a change of rules?" Jonas 
suggested. 

The Giver laughed; then Jonas, too, chuckled reluc- 
tantly. 

"The decision was made long before my time or yours," 
The Giver said, "and before the previous Receiver, and — " 
He waited. 

"Back and back and back." Jonas repeated the familiar 
phrase. Sometimes it had seemed humorous to him. 
Sometimes it had seemed meaningful and important. 

Now it was ominous. It meant, he knew, that nothing 
could be changed. 

The newchild, Gabriel, was growing, and successfully 
passed the tests of maturity that the Nurturers gave each 
month; he could sit alone, now, could reach for and grasp 
small play objects, and he had six teeth. During the day- 
time hours, Father reported, he was cheerful and seemed 


112 


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of normal intelligence. But he remained fretful at night, 
whimpering often, needing frequent attention. 

"After all this extra time I've put in with him," Father 
said one evening after Gabriel had been bathed and was 
lying, for the moment, hugging his hippo placidly in the 
small crib that had replaced the basket, "I hope they're not 
going to decide to release him." 

"Maybe it would be for the best," Mother suggested. "I 
know you don't mind getting up with him at night. But the 
lack of sleep is awfully hard for me." 

"If they release Gabriel, can we get another newchild as 
a visitor?" asked Lily. She was kneeling beside the crib, 
making funny faces at the little one, who was smiling back 
at her. 

Jonas's mother rolled her eyes in dismay. 

"No," Father said, smiling. He ruffled Lily's hair. "It's 
very rare, anyway, that a newchild's status is as uncertain 
as Gabriel's. It probably won't happen again, for a long 
time. 

"Anyway," he sighed, "they won't make the decision for 
a while. Right now we're all preparing for a release we'll 
probably have to make very soon. There's a Birth-mother 
who's expecting twin males next month." 

"Oh, dear," Mother said, shaking her head. "If they're 
identical, I hope you're not the one assigned — " 

"I am. I'm next on the list. I'll have to select the one to 
be nurtured, and the one to be released. It's usually not 
hard, though. Usually it's just a matter of birthweight. We 
release the smaller of the two." 

Jonas, listening, thought suddenly about the bridge and 
how, standing there, he had wondered what lay Elsewhere. 


Was there someone there, waiting, who would receive the 
tiny released twin? Would it grow up Elsewhere, not 
knowing, ever, that in this community lived a being who 
looked exactly the same? 

For a moment he felt a tiny, fluttering hope that he knew 
was quite foolish. He hoped that it would be Larissa, 
waiting. Larissa, the old woman he had bathed. He 
remembered her sparkling eyes, her soft voice, her low 
chuckle. Fiona had told him recently that Larissa had been 
released at a wonderful ceremony. 

But he knew that the Old were not given children to 
raise. Larissa's life Elsewhere would be quiet and serene as 
befit the Old; she would not welcome the responsibility of 
nurturing a newchild who needed feeding and care, and 
would likely cry at night. 

"Mother? Father?" he said, the idea coming to him un- 
expectedly, "why don't we put Gabriel's crib in my room 
tonight? I know how to feed and comfort him, and it would 
let you and Father get some sleep." 

Father looked doubtful. "You sleep so soundly, Jonas. 
What if his restlessness didn't wake you?" 

It was Lily who answered that. "If no one goes to tend 
Gabriel," she pointed out, "he gets very loud. He'd wake all 
of us, if Jonas slept through it." 

Father laughed. "You're right, Lily-billy. All right, 
Jonas, let's try it, just for tonight. I'll take the night off and 
we'll let Mother get some sleep, too." 

Gabriel slept soundly for the earliest part of the night. 
Jonas, in his bed, lay awake for a while; from time to time 
he raised himself on one elbow, looking over at the crib. 


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The newchild was on his stomach, his arms relaxed beside 
his head, his eyes closed, and his breathing regular and un- 
disturbed. Finally Jonas slept too. 

Then, as the middle hours of the night approached, the 
noise of Gabe's restlessness woke Jonas. The newchild was 
turning under his cover, flailing his arms, and beginning to 
whimper. 

Jonas rose and went to him. Gently he patted Gabriel's 
back. Sometimes that was all it took to lull him back to 
sleep. But the newchild still squirmed fretfully under his 
hand. 

Still patting rhythmically, Jonas began to remember the 
wonderful sail that The Giver had given him not long be- 
fore: a bright, breezy day on a clear turquoise lake, and 
above him the white sail of the boat billowing as he moved 
along in the brisk wind. 

He was not aware of giving the memory; but suddenly he 
realized that it was becoming dimmer, that it was sliding 
through his hand into the being of the newchild. Gabriel 
became quiet. Startled, Jonas pulled back what was left of 
the memory with a burst of will. He removed his hand from 
the little back and stood quietly beside the crib. 

To himself, he called the memory of the sail forward 
again. It was still there, but the sky was less blue, the gentle 
motion of the boat slower, the water of the lake more murky 
and clouded. He kept it for a while, soothing his own 
nervousness at what had occurred, then let it go and 
returned to his bed. 

Once more, toward dawn, the newchild woke and cried 
out. Again Jonas went to him. This time he quite deliber- 
ately placed his hand firmly on Gabriel's back, and re- 


leased the rest of the calming day on the lake. Again Ga- 
briel slept. 

But now Jonas lay awake, thinking. He no longer had 
any more than a wisp of the memory, and he felt a small 
lack where it had been. He could ask The Giver for an-other 
sail, he knew. A sail perhaps on ocean, next time, for Jonas 
had a memory of ocean, now, and knew what it was; he 
knew that there were sailboats there, too, in memories yet 
to be acquired. 

He wondered, though, if he should confess to The Giver 
that he had given a memory away. He was not yet qualified 
to be a Giver himself; nor had Gabriel been selected to be a 
Receiver. 

That he had this power frightened him. He decided not 
to tell. 


116 


117 



15 


Jonas entered the Annex room and realized immediately 
that it was a day when he would be sent away. The Giver 
was rigid in his chair, his face in his hands. 

"I'll come back tomorrow, sir," he said quickly. Then he 
hesitated. "Unless maybe there's something I can do to 
help." 

The Giver looked up at him, his face contorted with 
suffering. "Please," he gasped, "take some of the pain." 

Jonas helped him to his chair at the side of the bed. Then 
he quickly removed his tunic and lay face down. "Put your 
hands on me," he directed, aware that in such anguish The 
Giver might need reminding. 

The hands came, and the pain came with them and 
through them. Jonas braced himself and entered the mem- 
ory which was torturing The Giver. 

He was in a confused, noisy, foul-smelling place. It was 
daylight, early morning, and the air was thick with smoke 
that hung, yellow and brown, above the ground. Around 
him, everywhere, far across the expanse of what seemed to 
be a field, lay groaning men. A wild-eyed horse, its bridle 
torn and dangling, trotted frantically through the mounds of 
men, tossing its head, whinnying in panic. It stumbled, 
finally, then fell, and did not rise. 


Jonas heard a voice next to him. "Water," the voice said 
in a parched, croaking whisper. 

He turned his head toward the voice and looked into the 
half-closed eyes of a boy who seemed not much older than 
himself. Dirt streaked the boy's face and his matted blond 
hair. He lay sprawled, his gray uniform glistening with wet, 
fresh blood. 

The colors of the carnage were grotesquely bright: the 
crimson wetness on the rough and dusty fabric, the ripped 
shreds of grass, startlingly green, in the boy's yellow hair. 

The boy stared at him. "Water," he begged again. When 
he spoke, a new spurt of blood drenched the coarse cloth 
across his chest and sleeve. 

One of Jonas's arms was immobilized with pain, and he 
could see through his own torn sleeve something that 
looked like ragged flesh and splintery bone. He tried his 
remaining arm and felt it move. Slowly he reached to his 
side, felt the metal container there, and removed its cap, 
stopping the small motion of his hand now and then to wait 
for the surging pain to ease. Finally, when the container 
was open, he extended his arm slowly across the blood- 
soaked earth, inch by inch, and held it to the lips of the 
boy. Water trickled into the imploring mouth and down the 
grimy chin. 

The boy sighed. His head fell back, his lower jaw drop- 
ping as if he had been surprised by something. A dull 
blankness slid slowly across his eyes. He was silent. 

But the noise continued all around: the cries of the 
wounded men, the cries begging for water and for Mother 
and for death. Horses lying on the ground shrieked, raised 
their heads, and stabbed randomly toward the sky with their 
hooves. 


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119 



From the distance, Jonas could hear the thud of cannons. 
Overwhelmed by pain, he lay there in the fearsome stench 
for hours, listened to the men and animals die, and learned 
what warfare meant. 

Finally, when he knew that he could bear it no longer 
and would welcome death himself, he opened his eyes and 
was once again on the bed. 

The Giver looked away, as if he could not bear to see 
what he had done to Jonas. "Forgive me," he said. 


16 


Jonas did not want to go back. He didn't want the memo- 
ries, didn't want the honor, didn't want the wisdom, didn't 
want the pain. He wanted his childhood again, his scraped 
knees and ball games. He sat in his dwelling alone, 
watching through the window, seeing children at play, 
citizens bicycling home from uneventful days at work, 
ordinary lives free of anguish because he had been selected, 
as others before him had, to bear their burden. 

But the choice was not his. He returned each day to the 
Annex room. 

The Giver was gentle with him for many days following 
the terrible shared memory of war. 

"There are so many good memories," The Giver re- 
minded Jonas. And it was true. By now Jonas had experi- 
enced countless bits of happiness, things he had never 
known of before. 

He had seen a birthday parry, with one child singled out 
and celebrated on his day, so that now he understood the 
joy of being an individual, special and unique and proud. 

He had visited museums and seen paintings filled with 
all the colors he could now recognize and name. 


120 


121 



In one ecstatic memory he had ridden a gleaming brown 
horse across a field that smelled of damp grass, and had 
dismounted beside a small stream from which both he and 
the horse drank cold, clear water. Now he understood about 
animals; and in the moment that the horse turned from the 
stream and nudged Jonas's shoulder affectionately with its 
head, he perceived the bonds between animal and human. 

He had walked through woods, and sat at night beside a 
campfire. Although he had through the memories learned 
about the pain of loss and loneliness, now he gained, too, 
an understanding of solitude and its joy. 

"What is your favorite?" Jonas asked The Giver. "You 
don't have to give it away yet," he added quickly. "Just tell 
me about it, so I can look forward to it, because I'll have to 
receive it when your job is done." 

The Giver smiled. "Lie down," he said. "I'm happy to 
give it to you." 

Jonas felt the joy of it as soon as the memory began. 
Sometimes it took a while for him to get his bearings, to 
find his place. But this time he fit right in and felt the hap- 
piness that pervaded the memory. 

He was in a room filled with people, and it was warm, 
with firelight glowing on a hearth. He could see through a 
window that outside it was night, and snowing. There were 
colored lights: red and green and yellow, twinkling from a 
tree which was, oddly, inside the room. On a table, lighted 
candles stood in a polished golden holder and cast a soft, 
flickering glow. He could smell things cooking, and he 
heard soft laughter. A golden-haired dog lay sleeping on 
the floor. 


On the floor there were packages wrapped in brightly 
colored paper and tied with gleaming ribbons. As Jonas 
watched, a small child began to pick up the packages and 
pass them around the room: to other children, to adults who 
were obviously parents, and to an older, quiet couple, man 
and woman, who sat smiling together on a couch. 

While Jonas watched, the people began one by one to 
untie the ribbons on the packages, to unwrap the bright 
papers, open the boxes and reveal toys and clothing and 
books. There were cries of delight. They hugged one an- 
other. 

The small child went and sat on the lap of the old 
woman, and she rocked him and rubbed her cheek against 
his. 

Jonas opened his eyes and lay contentedly on the bed, 
still luxuriating in the warm and comforting memory. It had 
all been there, all the things he had learned to treasure. 

"What did you perceive?" The Giver asked. 

"Warmth," Jonas replied, "and happiness. And — let me 
think. Family. That it was a celebration of some sort, a 
holiday. And something else — I can't quite get the word 
for it." 

"It will come to you." 

"Who were the old people? Why were they there?" It had 
puzzled Jonas, seeing them in the room. The Old of the 
community did not ever leave their special place, the House 
of the Old, where they were so well cared for and 
respected. 

"They were called Grandparents." 


122 


123 



"Grand parents?" 

"Grandparents. It meant parents-of-the-parents, long 
ago." 

"Back and back and back?" Jonas began to laugh. "So 
actually, there could be parents-of-the-parents-of-the- 
parents-of-the parents?" 

The Giver laughed, too. "That's right. It's a little like 
looking at yourself looking in a mirror looking at yourself 
looking in a mirror." 

Jonas frowned. "But my parents must have had parents! 
I never thought about it before. Who are my parents-of- 
the-parents? Where are they?" 

"You could go look in the Hall of Open Records. You'd 
find the names. But think, son. If you apply for children, 
then who will be their parents-of-the-parents? Who will be 
their grandparents?" 

"My mother and father, of course." 

"And where will they be?" 

Jonas thought. "Oh," he said slowly. "When I finish my 
training and become a full adult, I'll be given my own 
dwelling. And then when Lily does, a few years later, she'll 
get her own dwelling, and maybe a spouse, and children if 
she applies for them, and then Mother and Father — " 

"That's right." 

"As long as they're still working and contributing to the 
community, they'll go and live with the other Child-less 
Adults. And they won't be part of my life anymore. 

"And after that, when the time comes, they'll go to the 
House of the Old," Jonas went on. He was thinking aloud. 
"And they'll be well cared for, and respected, and when 
they're released, there will be a celebration." 


"Which you won't attend," The Giver pointed out. 

"No, of course not, because I won't even know about it. 
By then I'll be so busy with my own life. And Lily will, 
too. So our children, if we have them, won't know who 
their parents-of-parents are, either. 

"It seems to work pretty well that way, doesn't it? The 
way we do it in our community?" Jonas asked. "I just didn't 
realize there was any other way, until I received that 
memory." 

"It works," The Giver agreed. 

Jonas hesitated. "I certainly liked the memory, though. I 
can see why it's your favorite. I couldn't quite get the word 
for the whole feeling of it, the feeling that was so strong in 
the room." 

"Love," The Giver told him. 

Jonas repeated it. "Love." It was a word and concept 
new to him. 

They were both silent for a minute. Then Jonas said, 
"Giver?" 

"Yes?" 

"I feel very foolish saying this. Very, very foolish." "No 
need. Nothing is foolish here. Trust the memories and 
how they make you feel." 

"Well," Jonas said, looking at the floor, "I know you 
don't have the memory anymore, because you gave it to me, 
so maybe you won't understand this — " 

"I will. I am left with a vague wisp of that one; and I 
have many other memories of families, and holidays, and 
happiness. Of love." 

Jonas blurted out what he was feeling. "I was thinking 
that . . . well, I can see that it wasn't a very practical way 


124 


125 



to live, with the Old right there in the same place, where 
maybe they wouldn't be well taken care of, the way they are 
now, and that we have a better-arranged way of doing 
things. But anyway, 1 was thinking, I mean feeling, actu- 
ally, that it was kind of nice, then. And that I wish we could 
be that way, and that you could be my grandparent. The 
family in the memory seemed a little more — " He faltered, 
not able to find the word he wanted. 

"A little more complete," The Giver suggested. 

Jonas nodded. "I liked the feeling of love," he confessed. 
He glanced nervously at the speaker on the wall, reassuring 
himself that no one was listening. "I wish we still had that," 
he whispered. "Of course," he added quickly, "I do 
understand that it wouldn't work very well. And that it's 
much better to be organized the way we are now. 1 can see 
that it was a dangerous way to live." 

"What do you mean?" 

Jonas hesitated. He wasn't certain, really, what he had 
meant. He could feel that there was risk involved, though 
he wasn't sure how. "Well," he said finally, grasping for an 
explanation, "they had fire right there in that room. There 
was a fire burning in the fireplace. And there were candles 
on a table. I can certainly see why those things were 
outlawed. 

"Still," he said slowly, almost to himself, "I did like the 
light they made. And the warmth." 

"Father? Mother?" Jonas asked tentatively after the evening 
meal. "I have a question I want to ask you." 

"What is it, Jonas?" his father asked. 

He made himself say the words, though he felt flushed 


with embarrassment. He had rehearsed them in his mind all 
the way home from the Annex. 

"Do you love me?" 

There was an awkward silence for a moment. Then Fa- 
ther gave a little chuckle. Jonas. You, of all people. Preci- 
sion of language, please! " 

"What do you mean?" Jonas asked. Amusement was not 
at all what he had anticipated. 

"Your father means that you used a very generalized 
word, so meaningless that it's become almost obsolete," his 
mother explained carefully. 

Jonas stared at them. Meaningless? He had never before 
felt anything as meaningful as the memory. 

"And of course our community can't function smoothly 
if people don't use precise language. You could ask, 'Do 
you enjoy me?' The answer is 'Yes,' " his mother said. 

"Or," his father suggested, "'Do you take pride in my 
accomplishments?' And the answer is wholeheartedly 
'Yes.'" 

"Do you understand why it's inappropriate to use a word 
like 'love'?" Mother asked. 

Jonas nodded. "Yes, thank you, I do," he replied slowly. 

It was his first lie to his parents. 

"Gabriel?" Jonas whispered that night to the newchild. 
The crib was in his room again. After Gabe had slept 
soundly in Jonas's room for four nights, his parents had 
pronounced the experiment a success and Jonas a hero. 
Gabriel was growing rapidly, now crawling and giggling 
across the room and pulling himself up to stand. He could 


126 


127 



be upgraded in the Nurturing Center, Father said happily, 
now that he slept; he could be officially named and given 
to his family in December, which was only two months 
away. 

But when he was taken away, he stopped sleeping 
again, and cried in the night. 

So he was back in Jonas's sleepingroom. They would 
give it a little more time, they decided. Since Gabe seemed 
to like it in Jonas's room, he would sleep there at night a 
little longer, until the habit of sound sleep was fully 
formed. The Nurturers were very optimistic about Ga- 
briel's future. 

There was no answer to Jonas's whisper. Gabriel was 
sound asleep. 

"Things could change, Gabe," Jonas went on. "Things 
could be different. 1 don't know how, but there must be 
some way for things to be different. There could be colors. 

"And grandparents," he added, staring through the 
dimness toward the ceiling of his sleepingroom. "And ev- 
erybody would have the memories. 

"You know about memories," he whispered, turning 
toward the crib. 

Gabriel's breathing was even and deep. Jonas liked 
having him there, though he felt guilty about the secret. 
Each night he gave memories to Gabriel: memories of boat 
rides and picnics in the sun; memories of soft rainfall 
against windowpanes; memories of dancing barefoot on a 
damp lawn. 

"Gabe?" 

The newchild stirred slightly in his sleep. Jonas looked 
over at him. 


128 


"There could be love," Jonas whispered. 

The next morning, for the first time, Jonas did not take his 
pill. Something within him, something that had grown there 
through the memories, told him to throw the pill away. 


129 



17 


TODAY IS DECLARED AN UNSCHEDULED HOLIDAY. Jonas, 
his parents, and Lily all turned in surprise and looked at the 
wall speaker from which the announcement had come. It 
happened so rarely, and was such a treat for the entire 
community when it did. Adults were exempted from the 
day's work, children from school and training and volunteer 
hours. The substitute Laborers, who would be given a 
different holiday, took over all the necessary tasks: nurtur- 
ing, food delivery, and care of the Old; and the community 
was free. 

Jonas cheered, and put his homework folder down. He 
had been about to leave for school. School was less impor- 
tant to him now; and before much more time passed, his 
formal schooling would end. But still, for Twelves, though 
they had begun their adult training, there were the endless 
lists of rules to be memorized and the newest technology to 
be mastered. 

He wished his parents, sister, and Gabe a happy day, and 
rode down the bicycle path, looking for Asher. 

He had not taken the pills, now, for four weeks. The 
Stirrings had returned, and he felt a little guilty and em- 
barrassed about the pleasurable dreams that came to him 


as he slept. But he knew he couldn't go back to the world of 
no feelings that he had lived in so long. 

And his new, heightened feelings permeated a greater 
realm than simply his sleep. Though he knew that his failure 
to take the pills accounted for some of it, he thought that the 
feelings came also from the memories. Now he could see all 
of the colors; and he could keep them, too, so that the trees 
and grass and bushes stayed green in his vision. Gabriel's 
rosy cheeks stayed pink, even when he slept. And apples 
were always, always red. 

Now, through the memories, he had seen oceans and 
mountain lakes and streams that gurgled through woods; 
and now he saw the familiar wide river beside the path 
differently. He saw all of the light and color and history it 
contained and carried in its slow-moving water; and he 
knew that there was an Elsewhere from which it came, and 
an Elsewhere to which it was going. 

On this unexpected, casual holiday he felt happy, as he 
always had on holidays; but with a deeper happiness than 
ever before. Thinking, as he always did, about precision of 
language, Jonas realized that it was a new depth of feelings 
that he was experiencing. Somehow they were not at all the 
same as the feelings that every evening, in every dwelling, 
every citizen analyzed with endless talk. 

"I felt angry because someone broke the play area rules," 
Lily had said once, making a fist with her small hand to 
indicate her fury. Her family — Jonas among them — had 
talked about the possible reasons for rule-breaking, and the 
need for understanding and patience, until Lily's fist had 
relaxed and her anger was gone. 

But Lily had not felt anger, Jonas realized now. Shallow 


130 


131 



impatience and exasperation, that was all Lily had felt. He 
knew that with certainty because now he knew what anger 
was. Now he had, in the memories, experienced injustice 
and cruelty, and he had reacted with rage that welled up so 
passionately inside him that the thought of discussing it 
calmly at the evening meal was unthinkable. 

"I felt sad today," he had heard his mother say, and they 
had comforted her. 

But now Jonas had experienced real sadness. He had felt 
grief. He knew that there was no quick comfort for 
emotions like those. 

These were deeper and they did not need to be told. They 
were felt. 

Today, he felt happiness. 

"Asher!" He spied his friend's bicycle leaning against a 
tree at the edge of the playing field. Nearby, other bikes 
were strewn about on the ground. On a holiday the usual 
rules of order could be disregarded. 

He skidded to a stop and dropped his own bike beside 
the others. "Hey, Ash!" he shouted, looking around. There 
seemed to be no one in the play area. "Where are you?" 

"Psssheeewwww!" A child's voice, coming from behind a 
nearby bush, made the sound. "Pow! Pow! Pow!" 

A female Eleven named Tanya staggered forward from 
where she had been hiding. Dramatically she clutched her 
stomach and stumbled about in a zig-zag pattern, groaning. 
"You got me!" she called, and fell to the ground, grinning. 

"Blam!" 

Jonas, standing on the side of the playing field, recog- 


nized Asher's voice. He saw his friend, aiming an imagi- 
nary weapon in his hand, dart from behind one tree to an- 
other. "Blam! You're in my line of ambush, Jonas! Watch 
out!" 

Jonas stepped back. He moved behind Asher's bike and 
knelt so that he was out of sight. It was a game he had often 
played with the other children, a game of good guys and 
bad guys, a harmless pasttime that used up their contained 
energy and ended only when they all lay posed in freakish 
postures on the ground. 

He had never recognized it before as a game of war. 

"Attack!" The shout came from behind the small store- 
house where play equipment was kept. Three children 
dashed forward, their imaginary weapons in firing position. 

From the opposite side of the field came an opposing 
shout: "Counter-attack!" From their hiding places a horde 
of children — Jonas recognized Fiona in the group — 
emerged, running in a crouched position, firing across the 
field. Several of them stopped, grabbed their own 
shoulders and chests with exaggerated gestures, and pre- 
tended to be hit. They dropped to the ground and lay sup- 
pressing giggles. 

Feelings surged within Jonas. He found himself walking 
forward into the field. 

"You're hit, Jonas!" Asher yelled from behind the tree. 
"Pow! You're hit again!" 

Jonas stood alone in the center of the field. Several of 
the children raised their heads and looked at him uneasily. 
The attacking armies slowed, emerged from their crouched 
positions, and watched to see what he was doing. 


132 


133 



In his mind, Jonas saw again the face of the boy who 
had lain dying on a field and had begged him for water. He 
had a sudden choking feeling, as if it were difficult to 
breathe. 

One of the children raised an imaginary rifle and made 
an attempt to destroy him with a firing noise. "Pssheeew!" 
Then they were all silent, standing awkwardly, and the 
only sound was the sound of Jonas's shuddering breaths. 
He was struggling not to cry. 

Gradually, when nothing happened, nothing changed, 
the children looked at each other nervously and went away. 
He heard the sounds as they righted their bicycles and 
began to ride down the path that led from the field. 

Only Asher and Fiona remained. 

"What's wrong, Jonas? It was only a game," Fiona said. 

"You ruined it," Asher said in an irritated voice. 

"Don't play it anymore," Jonas pleaded. 

"I'm the one who's training for Assistant Recreation 
Director," Asher pointed out angrily. "Games aren't your 
area of expertness." 

"Expertise," Jonas corrected him automatically. 

"Whatever. You can't say what we play, even if you are 
going to be the new Receiver." Asher looked warily at him. 
"I apologize for not paying you the respect you deserve," 
he mumbled. 

"Asher," Jonas said. He was trying to speak carefully, 
and with kindness, to say exactly what he wanted to say. 
"You had no way of knowing this. I didn't know it myself 
until recently. But it's a cruel game. In the past, there have 

It 


"I said I apologize, Jonas." 

Jonas sighed. It was no use. Of course Asher couldn't 
understand. "I accept your apology, Asher," he said wearily. 

"Do you want to go for a ride along the river, Jonas?" 
Fiona asked, biting her lip with nervousness. 

Jonas looked at her. She was so lovely. For a fleeting in- 
stant he thought he would like nothing better than to ride 
peacefully along the river path, laughing and talking with 
his gentle female friend. But he knew that such times had 
been taken from him now. He shook his head. After a 
moment his two friends turned and went to their bikes. He 
watched as they rode away. 

Jonas trudged to the bench beside the Storehouse and sat 
down, overwhelmed with feelings of loss. His child-hood, 
his friendships, his carefree sense of security — all of these 
things seemed to be slipping away. With his new, 
heightened feelings, he was overwhelmed by sadness at the 
way the others had laughed and shouted, playing at war. But 
he knew that they could not understand why, without the 
memories. He felt such love for Asher and for Fiona. But 
they could not feel it back, without the memories. And he 
could not give them those. Jonas knew with certainty that 
he could change nothing. 

Back in their dwelling, that evening, Lily chattered merrily 
about the wonderful holiday she had had, playing with 
her friends, having her midday meal out of doors, and (she 
confessed) sneaking a very short try on her father's bicycle. 

"I can't wait till I get my very own bicycle next month. 
Father's is too big for me. I fell," she explained matter-of- 


134 


135 



factly. "Good thing Gabe wasn't in the child seat!" 

"A very good thing," Mother agreed, frowning at the 
idea of it. Gabriel waved his arms at the mention of him- 
self. He had begun to walk just the week before. The first 
steps of a newchild were always the occasion for celebra- 
tion at the Nurturing Center, Father said, but also for the 
introduction of a discipline wand. Now Father brought the 
slender instrument home with him each night, in case Ga- 
briel misbehaved. 

But he was a happy and easygoing toddler. Now he 
moved unsteadily across the room, laughing. "Gay!" he 
chirped. "Gay!" It was the way he said his own name. 

Jonas brightened. It had been a depressing day for him, 
after such a bright start. But he set his glum thoughts aside. 
He thought about starting to teach Lily to ride so that she 
could speed off proudly after her Ceremony of Nine, which 
would be coming soon. It was hard to believe that it was 
almost December again, that almost a year had passed since 
he had become a Twelve. 

He smiled as he watched the newchild plant one small 
foot carefully before the other, grinning with glee at his 
own steps as he tried them out. 

"I want to get to sleep early tonight," Father said. "To- 
morrow's a busy day for me. The twins are being born to- 
morrow, and the test results show that they're identical." 

"One for here, one for Elsewhere," Lily chanted. "One 
for here, one for Else — " 

"Do you actually take it Elsewhere, Father?" Jonas 
asked. 

"No, I just have to make the selection. I weigh them, 
hand the larger over to a Nurturer who's standing by, 


waiting, and then I get the smaller one all cleaned up and 
comfy. Then I perform a small Ceremony of Release and — 
" He glanced down, grinning at Gabriel. "Then I wave bye- 
bye," he said, in the special sweet voice he used when he 
spoke to the newchild. He waved his hand in the familiar 
gesture. 

Gabriel giggled and waved bye-bye back to him. "And 
somebody else comes to get him? Somebody from 
Elsewhere?" 

"That's right, Jonas-bonus." 

Jonas rolled his eyes in embarrassment that his father 
had used the silly pet name. 

Lily was deep in thought. "What if they give the little 
twin a name Elsewhere, a name like, oh, maybe Jonathan? 
And here, in our community, at his naming, the twin that 
we kept here is given the name Jonathan, and then there 
would be two children with the same name, and they would 
look exactly the same, and someday, maybe when they 
were a Six, one group of Sixes would go to visit an-other 
community on a bus, and there in the other community, in 
the other group of Sixes, would be a Jonathan who was 
exactly the same as the other Jonathan, and then maybe 
they would get mixed up and take the wrong Jonathan 
home, and maybe his parents wouldn't notice, and then — " 

She paused for breath. 

"Lily," Mother said, "I have a wonderful idea. Maybe 
when you become a Twelve, they'll give you the Assign- 
ment of Storyteller! I don't think we've had a Storyteller in 
the community for a long time. But if I were on the Com- 
mittee, I would definitely choose you for that job!" 


136 


137 



Lily grinned. "I have a better idea for one more story," 
she announced. "What if actually we were all twins and 
didn't know it, and so Elsewhere there would be another 
Lily, and another Jonas, and another Father, and another 
Asher, and another Chief Elder, and another — " 

Father groaned. "Lily," he said. "It's bedtime." 


138 


18 


"Giver," Jonas asked the next afternoon, "Do you ever think 
about release?" 

"Do you mean my own release, or just the general topic 
of release?" 

"Both, I guess. I apologi — I mean I should have been 
more precise. But I don't know exactly what I meant." 

"Sit back up. No need to lie down while we're talking." 
Jonas, who had already been stretched out on the bed when 
the question came to his mind, sat back up. 

"I guess I do think about it occasionally," The Giver 
said. "I think about my own release when I'm in an awful 
lot of pain. I wish I could put in a request for it, some- 
times. But I'm not permitted to do that until the new Re- 
ceiver is trained." 

"Me," Jonas said in a dejected voice. He was not looking 
forward to the end of the training, when he would become 
the new Receiver. It was clear to him what a terribly 
difficult and lonely life it was, despite the honor. 

"I can't request release either," Jonas pointed out. "It was 
in my rules." 

The Giver laughed harshly. "I know that. They ham- 
mered out those rules after the failure ten years ago." 


139 



Jonas had heard again and again now, reference to the 
previous failure. But he still did not know what had hap- 
pened ten years before. "Giver," he said, "tell me what 
happened. Please." 

The Giver shrugged. "On the surface, it was quite simple. 
A Receiver-to-be was selected, the way you were. The 
selection went smoothly enough. The Ceremony was held, 
and the selection was made. The crowd cheered, as they did 
for you. The new Receiver was puzzled and a little 
frightened, as you were." 

"My parents told me it was a female." 

The Giver nodded. 

Jonas thought of his favorite female, Fiona, and shivered. 
He wouldn't want his gentle friend to suffer the way he had, 
taking on the memories. "What was she like?" he asked The 
Giver. 

The Giver looked sad, thinking about it. "She was a re- 
markable young woman. Very self-possessed and serene. 
Intelligent, eager to learn." He shook his head and drew a 
deep breath. "You know, Jonas, when she came to me in 
this room, when she presented herself to begin her training 

If 

Jonas interrupted him with a question. "Can you tell me 
her name? My parents said that it wasn't to be spoken again 
in the community. But couldn't you say it just to me?" 

The Giver hesitated painfully, as if saying the name aloud 
might be excruciating. "Her name was Rosemary," he told 
Jonas, finally. 

"Rosemary. I like that name." 

The Giver went on. "When she came to me for the first 


time, she sat there in the chair where you sat on your first 
day. She was eager and excited and a little scared. We 
talked. I tried to explain things as well as I could." 

"The way you did to me." 

The Giver chuckled ruefully. "The explanations are 
difficult. The whole thing is so beyond one's experience. 
But I tried. And she listened carefully. Her eyes were very 
luminous, I remember." 

He looked up suddenly. "Jonas, I gave you a memory 
that I told you was my favorite. I still have a shred of it 
left. The room, with the family, and grandparents?" 

Jonas nodded. Of course he remembered. "Yes," he said. 
"It had that wonderful feeling with it. You told me it was 
love." 

"You can understand, then, that that's what I felt for 
Rosemary," The Giver explained. "I loved her. 

"I feel it for you, too," he added. 

"What happened to her?" Jonas asked. 

"Her training began. She received well, as you do. She 
was so enthusiastic. So delighted to experience new things. I 
remember her laughter ... " 

His voice faltered and trailed off. 

"What happened?" Jonas asked again, after a moment. 
"Please tell me." 

The Giver closed his eyes. "It broke my heart, Jonas, to 
transfer pain to her. But it was my job. It was what I had to 
do, the way I've had to do it to you." 

The room was silent. Jonas waited. Finally The Giver 
continued. 

"Five weeks. That was all. I gave her happy memories: a 
ride on a merry-go-round; a kitten to play with; a picnic. 


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Sometimes I chose one just because I knew it would make 
her laugh, and I so treasured the sound of that laughter in 
this room that had always been so silent. 

"But she was like you, Jonas. She wanted to experience 
everything. She knew that it was her responsibility. And so 
she asked me for more difficult memories." 

Jonas held his breath for a moment. "You didn't give her 
war, did you? Not after just five weeks?" 

The Giver shook his head and sighed. "No. And I didn't 
give her physical pain. But I gave her loneliness. And I 
gave her loss. I transferred a memory of a child taken from 
its parents. That was the first one. She appeared stunned at 
its end." 

Jonas swallowed. Rosemary, and her laughter, had 
begun to seem real to him, and he pictured her looking up 
from the bed of memories, shocked. 

The Giver continued. "I backed off, gave her more little 
delights. But everything changed, once she knew about 
pain. I could see it in her eyes." 

"She wasn't brave enough?" Jonas suggested. 

The Giver didn't respond to the question. "She insisted 
that I continue, that I not spare her. She said it was her 
duty. And I knew, of course, that she was correct. 

"I couldn't bring myself to inflict physical pain on her. 
But I gave her anguish of many kinds. Poverty, and hunger, 
and terror. 

"I had to, Jonas. It was my job. And she had been 
chosen." The Giver looked at him imploringly. Jonas 
stroked his hand. 

"Finally one afternoon, we finished for the day. It had 
been a hard session. I tried to finish — as I do with 


you — by transferring something happy and cheerful. But 
the times of laughter were gone by then. She stood up very 
silently, frowning, as if she were making a decision. Then 
she came over to me and put her arms around me. She 
kissed my cheek." As Jonas watched, The Giver stroked 
his own cheek, recalling the touch of Rosemary's lips ten 
years before. 

"She left here that day, left this room, and did not go 
back to her dwelling. I was notified by the Speaker that 
she had gone directly to the Chief Elder and asked to be 
released." 

"But it's against the rules! The Receiver-in-training 
can't apply for rel — " 

"It's in your rules, Jonas. But it wasn't in hers. She 
asked for release, and they had to give it to her. I never 
saw her again." 

So that was the failure, Jonas thought. It was obvious 
that it saddened The Giver very deeply. But it didn't seem 
such a terrible thing, after all. And he, Jonas, would never 
have done it — never have requested release, no matter 
now difficult his training became. The Giver needed a 
successor, and he had been chosen. 

A thought occurred to Jonas. Rosemary had been re- 
leased very early in her training. What if something hap- 
pened to him, Jonas? He had a whole year's worth of 
memories now. 

"Giver," he asked, "I can't request release, I know that. 
But what if something happened: an accident? What if I 
fell into the river like the little Four, Caleb, did? Well, that 
doesn't make sense because I'm a good swimmer. But what 
if I couldn't swim, and fell into the river and was 


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lost? Then there wouldn't be a new Receiver, but you would 
already have given away an awful lot of important 
memories, so even though they would select a new Re- 
ceiver, the memories would be gone except for the shreds 
that you have left of them? And then what if — " 

He started to laugh, suddenly. "I sound like my sister, 
Lily," he said, amused at himself. 

The Giver looked at him gravely. "You just stay away 
from the river, my friend," he said. "The community lost 
Rosemary after five weeks and it was a disaster for them. I 
don't know what the community would do if they lost you." 

"Why was it a disaster?" 

"I think I mentioned to you once," The Giver re-minded 
him, "that when she was gone, the memories came back to 
the people. If you were to be lost in the river, Jonas, your 
memories would not be lost with you. Memories are 
forever. 

"Rosemary had only those five weeks worth, and most of 
them were good ones. But there were those few terrible 
memories, the ones that had overwhelmed her. For a while 
they overwhelmed the community. All those feelings! 
They'd never experienced that before. 

"I was so devastated by my own grief at her loss, and my 
own feeling of failure, that I didn't even try to help them 
through it. I was angry, too." 

The Giver was quiet for a moment, obviously thinking. 
"You know," he said, finally, "if they lost you, with all the 
training you've had now, they'd have all those memories 
again themselves." 

Jonas made a face. "They'd hate that." 


"They certainly would. They wouldn't know how to deal 
with it at all." 

"The only way I deal with it is by having you there to 
help me," Jonas pointed out with a sigh. 

The Giver nodded. "I suppose," he said slowly, "that I 
could — " 

"You could what?" 

The Giver was still deep in thought. After a moment, he 
said, "If you floated off in the river, I suppose I could help 
the whole community the way I've helped you. It's an 
interesting concept. I need to think about it some more. 
Maybe we'll talk about it again sometime. But not now. 

"I'm glad you're a good swimmer, Jonas. But stay away 
from the river." He laughed a little, but the laughter was 
not lighthearted. His thoughts seemed to be else-where, and 
his eyes were very troubled. 


144 


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19 


Jonas glanced at the clock. There was so much work to be 
done, always, that he and The Giver seldom simply sat and 
talked, the way they just had. 

"I'm sorry that I wasted so much time with my ques- 
tions," Jonas said. "I was only asking about release be- 
cause my father is releasing a newchild today. A twin. He 
has to select one and release the other one. They do it by 
weight." Jonas glanced at the clock. "Actually, I suppose 
he's already finished. I think it was this morning." 

The Giver's face took on a solemn look. "I wish they 
wouldn't do that," he said quietly, almost to himself. 

"Well, they can't have two identical people around! 
Think how confusing it would be!" Jonas chuckled. 

"I wish I could watch," he added, as an afterthought. He 
liked the thought of seeing his father perform the cere- 
mony, and making the little twin clean and comfy. His fa- 
ther was such a gentle man. 

"You can watch," The Giver said. 

"No," Jonas told him. "They never let children watch. 
It's very private." 

"Jonas," The Giver told him, "I know that you read your 
training instructions very carefully. Don't you remember 
that you are allowed to ask anyone anything?" 


Jonas nodded. "Yes, but — " 

"Jonas, when you and I have finished our time together, 
you will be the new Receiver. You can read the books; 
you'll have the memories. You have access to everything. It's 
part of your training. If you want to watch a release, you 
have simply to ask." 

Jonas shrugged. "Well, maybe I will, then. But it's too 
late for this one. I'm sure it was this morning." 

The Giver told him, then, something he had not known. 
"All private ceremonies are recorded. They're in the Hall 
of Closed Records. Do you want to see this morning's 
release? " 

Jonas hesitated. He was afraid that his father wouldn't 
like it, if he watched something so private. 

"I think you should," The Giver told him firmly. 

"All right, then," Jonas said. "Tell me how." 

The Giver rose from his chair, went to the speaker on 
the wall, and clicked the switch from OFF to ON. 

The voice spoke immediately. "Yes, Receiver. How 
may I help you?" 

"I would like to see this morning's release of the twin." 
"One moment, Receiver. Thank you for your instruc- 
tions." 

Jonas watched the video screen above the row of 
switches. Its blank face began to flicker with zig-zag lines; 
then some numbers appeared, followed by the date and 
time. He was astonished and delighted that this was avail- 
able to him, and surprised that he had not known. 

Suddenly he could see a small windowless room, empty 
except for a bed, a table with some equipment on it — 
Jonas recognized a scale; he had seen them before, when 
he'd been doing volunteer hours at the Nurturing Center — 


146 


147 



and a cupboard. He could see pale carpeting on the floor. 

"It's just an ordinary room," he commented. "I thought 
maybe they'd have it in the Auditorium, so that everybody 
could come. All the Old go to Ceremonies of Release. But I 
suppose that when it's just a newborn, they don't — " 

"Shhh," The Giver said, his eyes on the screen. 

Jonas's father, wearing his nurturing uniform, entered 
the room, cradling a tiny newchild wrapped in a soft blan- 
ket in his arms. A uniformed woman followed through the 
door, carrying a second newchild wrapped in a similar 
blanket. 

"That's my father." Jonas found himself whispering, as 
if he might wake the little ones if he spoke aloud. "And the 
other Nurturer is his assistant. She's still in training, but 
she'll be finished soon." 

The two Nurturers unwrapped the blankets and laid the 
identical newborns on the bed. They were naked. Jonas 
could see that they were males. 

He watched, fascinated, as his father gently lifted one 
and then the other to the scale and weighed them. 

He heard his father laugh. "Good," his father said to the 
woman. "I thought for a moment that they might both be 
exactly the same. Then we'd have a problem. But this one," 
he handed one, after rewrapping it, to his assistant, "is six 
pounds even. So you can clean him up and dress him and 
take him over to the Center." 

The woman took the newchild and left through the door 
she had entered. 

Jonas watched as his father bent over the squirming 
newchild on the bed. "And you, little guy, you're only five 


pounds ten ounces. A shrimp. 

"That's the special voice he uses with Gabriel," Jonas 
remarked, smiling. 

"Watch," The Giver said. 

"Now he cleans him up and makes him comfy," Jonas 
told him. "He told me." 

"Be quiet, Jonas," The Giver commanded in a strange 
voice. "Watch. " 

Obediently Jonas concentrated on the screen, waiting for 
what would happen next. He was especially curious about 
the ceremony part. 

His father turned and opened the cupboard. He took out 
a syringe and a small bottle. Very carefully he inserted the 
needle into the bottle and began to fill the syringe with a 
clear liquid. 

Jonas winced sympathetically. He had forgotten that 
newchildren had to get shots. He hated shots himself, 
though he knew that they were necessary. 

To his surprise, his father began very carefully to direct 
the needle into the top of newchild's forehead, puncturing 
the place where the fragile skin pulsed. The newborn 
squirmed, and wailed faintly. 

"Why's he — " 

"Shhh," The Giver said sharply. 

His father was talking, and Jonas realized that he was 
hearing the answer to the question he had started to ask. 
Still in the special voice, his father was saying, "I know, I 
know. It hurts, little guy. But I have to use a vein, and the 
veins in your arms are still too teeny-weeny." 

He pushed the plunger very slowly, injecting the liquid 
into the scalp vein until the syringe was empty. 


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All done. That wasn't so hard, was it?" Jonas heard his 
father say cheerfully. He turned aside and dropped the sy- 
ringe into a waste receptacle. 

Now he cleans him up and makes him comfy, Jonas said 
to himself, aware that The Giver didn't want to talk during 
the little ceremony. 

As he continued to watch, the newchild, no longer cry- 
ing, moved his arms and legs in a jerking motion. Then he 
went limp. He head fell to the side, his eyes half open. Then 
he was still. 

With an odd, shocked feeling, Jonas recognized the 
gestures and posture and expression. They were familiar. 
He had seen them before. But he couldn't remember where. 

Jonas stared at the screen, waiting for something to 
happen. But nothing did. The little twin lay motionless. His 
father was putting things away. Folding the blanket. 
Closing the cupboard. 

Once again, as he had on the playing field, he felt the 
choking sensation. Once again he saw the face of the light- 
haired, bloodied soldier as life left his eyes. The memory 
came back. 

He killed it! My father killed it! Jonas said to himself, 
stunned at what he was realizing. He continued to stare at 
the screen numbly. 

His father tidied the room. Then he picked up a small 
carton that lay waiting on the floor, set it on the bed, and 
lifted the limp body into it. He placed the lid on tightly. 

He picked up the carton and carried it to the other side 
of the room. He opened a small door in the wall; Jonas 
could see darkness behind the door. It seemed to be the 


same sort of chute into which trash was deposited at 
school. 

His father loaded the carton containing the body into the 
chute and gave it a shove. 

"Bye-bye, little guy," Jonas heard his father say before 
he left the room. Then the screen went blank. 

The Giver turned to him. Quite calmly, he related, 
"When the Speaker notified me that Rosemary had applied 
for release, they turned on the tape to show me the process. 
There she was — my last glimpse of that beautiful child — 
waiting. They brought in the syringe and asked her to roll 
up her sleeve. 

"You suggested, Jonas, that perhaps she wasn't brave 
enough? I don't know about bravery: what it is, what it 
means. I do know that I sat here numb with horror. 
Wretched with helplessness. And I listened as Rosemary 
told them that she would prefer to inject herself. 

"Then she did so. I didn't watch. I looked away." 

The Giver turned to him. "Well, there you are, Jonas. 
You were wondering about release," he said in a bitter 
voice. 

Jonas felt a ripping sensation inside himself, the feeling 
of terrible pain clawing its way forward to emerge in a cry. 


150 


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20 


"I won't! I won't go home! You can't make me!" Jonas 
sobbed and shouted and pounded the bed with his fists. 
"Sit up, Jonas," The Giver told him firmly. 

Jonas obeyed him. Weeping, shuddering, he sat on the 
edge of the bed. He would not look at The Giver. 

"You may stay here tonight. I want to talk to you. But 
you must be quiet now, while I notify your family unit. No 
one must hear you cry." 

Jonas looked up wildly. "No one heard that little twin 
cry, either! No one but my father!" He collapsed in sobs 
again. 

The Giver waited silently. Finally Jonas was able to 
quiet himself and he sat huddled, his shoulders shaking. 

The Giver went to the wall speaker and clicked the 
switch to ON. 

"Yes, Receiver. How may 1 help you?" 

"Notify the new Receiver's family unit that he will be 
staying with me tonight, for additional training." 

"I will take care of that, sir. Thank you for your in- 
structions," the voice said. 

"I will take care of that, sir. I will take care of that, sir," 
Jonas mimicked in a cruel, sarcastic voice. "I will do what- 


ever you like, sir. I will kill people, sir. Old people? Small 
newborn people? I'd be happy to kill them, sir. Thank you 
for your instructions, sir. How may I help y — "He 
couldn't seem to stop. 

The Giver grasped his shoulders firmly. Jonas fell silent 
and stared at him. 

"Listen to me, Jonas. They can't help it. They know 
nothing. " 

"You said that to me once before." 

"I said it because it's true. It's the way they live. It's the 
life that was created for them. It's the same life that you 
would have, if you had not been chosen as my successor." 

"But he lied to me!" Jonas wept. 

"It's what he was told to do, and he knows nothing else." 

"What about you? Do you lie to me, too?" Jonas almost 
spat the question at The Giver. 

"I am empowered to lie. But I have never lied to you." 

Jonas stared at him. "Release is always like that? For 
people who break the rules three times? For the Old? Do 
they kill the Old, too?" 

"Yes, it's true." 

"And what about Fiona? She loves the Old! She's in 
training to care for them. Does she know yet? What will 
she do when she finds out? How will she feel?" Jonas 
brushed wetness from his face with the back of one hand. 

"Fiona is already being trained in the fine art of re- 
lease," The Giver told him. "She's very efficient at her 
work, your red-haired friend. Feelings are not part of the 
life she's learned." 

Jonas wrapped his arms around himself and rocked his 


152 


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own body back and forth. "What should I do? I can't go 
back! I can't!" 

The Giver stood up. "First, I will order our evening 
meal. Then we will eat." 

Jonas found himself using the nasty, sarcastic voice 
again. "Then we'll have a sharing of feelings?" 

The Giver gave a rueful, anguished, empty laugh. 
"Jonas, you and I are the only ones who have feelings. 
We've been sharing them now for almost a year." 

"I'm sorry, Giver," Jonas said miserably. "I don't mean 
to be so hateful. Not to you." 

The Giver rubbed Jonas's hunched shoulders. "And after 
we eat," he went on, "we'll make a plan." 

Jonas looked up, puzzled. "A plan for what? There's 
nothing. There's nothing we can do. It's always been this 
way. Before me, before you, before the ones who came be- 
fore you. Back and back and back." His voice trailed the 
familiar phrase. 

"Jonas," The Giver said, after a moment, "it's true that it 
has been this way for what seems forever. But the mem- 
ories tell us that it has not always been. People felt things 
once. You and I have been part of that, so we know. We 
know that they once felt things like pride, and sorrow, and 

II 

"And love," Jonas added, remembering the family scene 
that had so affected him. "And pain." He thought again of 
the soldier. 

"The worst part of holding the memories is not the 
pain. It's the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared." 

"I've started to share them with you," Jonas said, try- 
ing to cheer him. 


"That's true. And having you here with me over the past 
year has made me realize that things must change. For years 
I've felt that they should, but it seemed so hopeless. 

"Now for the first time I think there might be a way," 
The Giver said slowly. "And you brought it to my atten- 
tion, barely — " He glanced at the clock, "two hours ago." 

Jonas watched him, and listened. 

It was late at night, now. They had talked and talked. Jonas 
sat wrapped in a robe belonging to The Giver, the long 
robe that only Elders wore. 

It was possible, what they had planned. Barely possible. 
If it failed, he would very likely be killed. 

But what did that matter? If he stayed, his life was no 
longer worth living. 

"Yes," he told The Giver. "I'll do it. I think I can do it. 
I'll try, anyway. But I want you to come with me." 

The Giver shook his head. "Jonas," he said, "the com- 
munity has depended, all these generations, back and back 
and back, on a resident Receiver to hold their memories for 
them. I've turned over many of them to you in the past 
year. And I can't take them back. There's no way for me to 
get them back if I have given them. 

"So if you escape, once you are gone — and, Jonas, you 
know that you can never return — " 

Jonas nodded solemnly. It was the terrifying part. "Yes," 
he said, "I know. But if you come with me — " 

The Giver shook his head and made a gesture to silence 
him. He continued. "If you get away, if you get beyond, if 
you get to Elsewhere, it will mean that the community has 


154 


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to bear the burden themselves, of the memories you had 
been holding for them. 

"I think that they can, and that they will acquire some 
wisdom. But it will be desperately hard for them. When we 
lost Rosemary ten years ago, and her memories re-turned to 
the people, they panicked. And those were such few 
memories, compared to yours. When your memories return, 
they'll need help. Remember how I helped you in the 
beginning, when the receiving of memories was new to 
you?" 

Jonas nodded. "It was scary at first. And it hurt a lot." 

"You needed me then. And now they will." 

"It's no use. They'll find someone to take my place. 
They'll choose a new Receiver." 

"There's no one ready for training, not right away. Oh, 
they'll speed up the selection, of course. But I can't think of 
another child who has the right qualities — " 

"There's a little female with pale eyes. But she's only a 
Six." 

"That's correct. I know the one you mean. Her name is 
Katharine. But she's too young. So they will be forced to 
bear those memories." 

"I want you to come, Giver," Jonas pleaded. 

"No. I have to stay here," The Giver said firmly. "I want 
to, Jonas. If I go with you, and together we take away all 
their protection from the memories, Jonas, the community 
will be left with no one to help them. They'll be thrown into 
chaos. They'll destroy themselves. I can't go " 

"Giver," Jonas suggested, "you and I don't need to care 
about the rest of them." 


The Giver looked at him with a questioning smile. Jonas 
hung his head. Of course they needed to care. It was the 
meaning of everything. 

"And in any case, Jonas," The Giver sighed, "I wouldn't 
make it. I'm very weakened now. Do you know that I no 
longer see colors?" 

Jonas's heart broke. He reached for The Giver's hand. 

"You have the colors," The Giver told him. "And you 
have the courage. I will help you to have the strength." 

"A year ago," Jonas reminded him, "when I had just 
become a Twelve, when I began to see the first color, you 
told me that the beginning had been different for you. But 
that I wouldn't understand." 

The Giver brightened. "That's true. And do you know, 
Jonas, that with all your knowledge now, with all your 
memories, with all you've learned — still you won't un- 
derstand? Because I've been a little selfish. I haven't given 
any of it to you. I wanted to keep it for myself to the last." 

"Keep what?" 

"When I was just a boy, younger than you, it began to 
come to me. But it wasn't the seeing-beyond for me. It was 
different. For me, it was hearing-bey ond. " 

Jonas frowned, trying to figure that out. "What did you 
hear?" he asked. 

"Music," The Giver said, smiling. "I began to hear 
something truly remarkable, and it is called music. I'll give 
you some before I go." 

Jonas shook his head emphatically. "No, Giver," he said. 
"I want you to keep that, to have with you, when I'm gone." 


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Jonas went home the next morning, cheerfully greeted his 
parents, and lied easily about what a busy, pleasant night he 
had had. 

His father smiled and lied easily, too, about his busy and 
pleasant day the day before. 

Throughout the school day, as he did his lessons, Jonas 
went over the plan in his head. It seemed startlingly simple. 
Jonas and The Giver had gone over it and over it, late into 
the night hours. 

For the next two weeks, as the time for the December 
Ceremony approached. The Giver would transfer every 
memory of courage and strength that he could to Jonas. He 
would need those to help him find the Elsewhere that they 
were both sure existed. They knew it would be a very 
difficult journey. 

Then, in the middle of the night before the Ceremony, 
Jonas would secretly leave his dwelling. This was probably 
the most dangerous part, because it was a violation of a 
major rule for any citizen not on official business to leave a 
dwelling at night. 

"I'll leave at midnight," Jonas said. "The Food Collectors 
will be finished picking up the evening-meal remains by 
then, and the Path-Maintenance Crews don't start their work 
that early. So there won't be anyone to see me, unless of 
course someone is out on emergency business." 

"I don't know what you should do if you are seen, 
Jonas," The Giver had said. "I have memories, of course, of 
all kinds of escapes. People fleeing from terrible things 
throughout history. But every situation is individual. There 
is no memory of one like this." 

"I'll be careful," Jonas said. "No one will see me." 


"As Receiver-in-training, you're held in very high re- 
spect already. So I think you wouldn't be questioned very 
forcefully." 

"I'd just say I was on some important errand for the 
Receiver. I'd say it was all your fault that I was out after 
hours," Jonas teased. 

They both laughed a little nervously. But Jonas was 
certain that he could slip away, unseen, from his house, 
carrying an extra set of clothing. Silently he would take his 
bicycle to the riverbank and leave it there hidden in bushes 
with the clothing folded beside it. 

Then he would make his way through the darkness, on 
foot, silently, to the Annex. 

"There's no nighttime attendant," The Giver explained. 
"I'll leave the door unlocked. You simply slip into the room. 
I'll be waiting for you." 

His parents would discover, when they woke, that he 
was gone. They would also find a cheerful note from Jonas 
on his bed, telling them that he was going for an early 
morning ride along the river; that he would be back for the 
Ceremony. 

His parents would be irritated but not alarmed. They 
would think him inconsiderate and they would plan to 
chastise him, later. 

They would wait, with mounting anger, for him; finally 
they would be forced to go, taking Lily to the Ceremony 
without him. 

"They won't say anything to anyone, though," Jonas 
said, quite certain. "They won't call attention to my rude- 
ness because it would reflect on their parenting. And any- 
way, everyone is so involved in the Ceremony that they 


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probably won't notice that I'm not there. Now that I'm a 
Twelve and in training, I don't have to sit with my age 
group any more. So Asher will think I'm with my parents, 
or with you — " 

"And your parents will assume you're with Asher, or 
with me — " 

Jonas shrugged. "It will take everyone a while to realize 
that I'm not there at all." 

"And you and I will be long on our way by then." 

In the early morning, The Giver would order a vehicle 
and driver from the Speaker. He visited the other commu- 
nities frequently, meeting with their Elders; his responsi- 
bilities extended over all the surrounding areas. So this 
would not be an unusual undertaking. 

Ordinarily The Giver did not attend the December Cer- 
emony. Last year he had been present because of the occa- 
sion of Jonas's selection, in which he was so involved. But 
his life was usually quite separate from that of the commu- 
nity. No one would comment on his absence, or on the fact 
that he had chosen this day to be away. 

When the driver and vehicle arrived. The Giver would 
send the driver on some brief errand. During his absence, 
The Giver would help Jonas hide in the storage area of the 
vehicle. He would have with him a bundle of food which 
The Giver would save from his own meals during the next 
two weeks. 

The Ceremony would begin, with all the community 
there, and by then Jonas and The Giver would be on their 
way. 

By midday Jonas's absence would become apparent, and 
would be a cause for serious concern. The Ceremony 


would not be disrupted — such a disruption would be 
unthinkable. But searchers would be sent out into the 
community. 

By the time his bicycle and clothing were found. The 
Giver would be returning. Jonas, by then, would be on his 
own, making his journey Elsewhere. 

The Giver, on his return, would find the community in a 
state of confusion and panic. Confronted by a situation 
which they had never faced before, and having no memo- 
ries from which to find either solace or wisdom, they 
would not know what to do and would seek his advice. 

He would go to the Auditorium where the people would 
be gathered, still. He would stride to the stage and 
command their attention. 

He would make the solemn announcement that Jonas 
had been lost in the river. He would immediately begin the 
Ceremony of Loss. 

"Jonas, Jonas," they would say loudly, as they had once 
said the name of Caleb. The Giver would lead the chant. 
Together they would let Jonas's presence in their lives fade 
away as they said his name in unison more slowly, softer 
and softer, until he was disappearing from them, until he 
was no more than an occasional murmur and then, by the 
end of the long day, gone forever, not to be mentioned 
again. 

Their attention would turn to the overwhelming task of 
bearing the memories themselves. The Giver would help 
them. 

"Yes, I understand that they'll need you," Jonas had said at 
the end of the lengthy discussion and planning. "But 


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I'll need you, too. Please come with me." He knew the an- 
swer even as he made the final plea. 

"My work will be finished," The Giver had replied 
gently, "when I have helped the community to change and 
become whole. 

"I'm grateful to you, Jonas, because without you I 
would never have figured out a way to bring about the 
change. But your role now is to escape. And my role is to 
stay." 

"But don't you want to be with me, Giver?" Jonas asked 
sadly. 

The Giver hugged him. "I love you, Jonas," he said. 
"But I have another place to go. When my work here is 
finished, I want to be with my daughter." 

Jonas had been staring glumly at the floor. Now he 
looked up, startled. "I didn't know you had a daughter, 
Giver! You told me that you'd had a spouse. But I never 
knew about your daughter." 

The Giver smiled, and nodded. For the first time in their 
long months together, Jonas saw him look truly happy. 

"Her name was Rosemary," The Giver said. 


21 


It would work. They could make it work, Jonas told him- 
self again and again throughout the day. 

But that evening everything changed. All of it — all the 
things they had thought through so meticulously — fell 
apart. 

That night, Jonas was forced to flee. He left the dwelling 
shortly after the sky became dark and the community still. It 
was terribly dangerous because some of the work crews 
were still about, but he moved stealthily and silently, stay- 
ing in the shadows, making his way past the darkened 
dwellings and the empty Central Plaza, toward the river. 
Beyond the Plaza he could see the House of the Old, with 
the Annex behind it, outlined against the night sky. But he 
could not stop there. There was no time. Every minute 
counted now, and every minute must take him farther from 
the community. 

Now he was on the bridge, hunched over on the bicycle, 
pedaling steadily. He could see the dark, churning water 
far below. 

He felt, surprisingly, no fear, nor any regret at leaving 


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the community behind. But he felt a very deep sadness that 
he had left his closest friend behind. He knew that in the 
danger of his escape he must be absolutely silent; but with 
his heart and mind, he called back and hoped that with his 
capacity for hearing-beyond, The Giver would know that 
Jonas had said goodbye. 

It had happened at the evening meal. The family unit was 
eating together as always: Lily chattering away, Mother and 
Father making their customary comments (and lies, Jonas 
knew) about the day. Nearby, Gabriel played happily on the 
floor, babbling his baby talk, looking with glee now and 
then toward Jonas, obviously delighted to have him back 
after the unexpected night away from the dwelling. 

Father glanced down toward the toddler. "Enjoy it, little 
guy," he said. "This is your last night as visitor." 

"What do you mean?" Jonas asked him. 

Father sighed with disappointment. "Well, you know he 
wasn't here when you got home this morning because we 
had him stay overnight at the Nurturing Center. It seemed 
like a good opportunity, with you gone, to give it a try. 
He'd been sleeping so soundly." 

"Didn't it go well?" Mother asked sympathetically. 

Father gave a rueful laugh. "That's an understatement. It 
was a disaster. He cried all night, apparently. The night 
crew couldn't handle it. They were really frazzled by the 
time I got to work." 

"Gabe, you naughty thing," Lily said, with a scolding 
little cluck toward the grinning toddler on the floor. "So," 
Father went on, "we obviously had to make the 


decision. Even I voted for Gabriel's release when we had 
the meeting this afternoon." 

Jonas put down his fork and stared at his father. "Re- 
lease?" he asked. 

Father nodded. "We certainly gave it our best try, didn't 
we?" 

"Yes, we did," Mother agreed emphatically. 

Lily nodded in agreement, too. 

Jonas worked at keeping his voice absolutely calm. 
"When?" he asked. "When will he be released?" 

"First thing tomorrow morning. We have to start our 
preparations for the Naming Ceremony, so we thought we'd 
get this taken care of right away. 

"It's bye-bye to you, Gabe, in the morning," Father had 
said, in his sweet, sing-song voice. 

Jonas reached the opposite side of the river, stopped 
briefly, and looked back. The community where his entire 
life had been lived lay behind him now, sleeping. At dawn, 
the orderly, disciplined life he had always known would 
continue again, without him. The life where nothing was 
ever unexpected. Or inconvenient. Or unusual. The life 
without color, pain, or past. 

He pushed firmly again at the pedal with his foot and 
continued riding along the road. It was not safe to spend 
time looking back. He thought of the rules he had broken 
so far: enough that if he were caught, now, he would be 
condemned. 

First, he had left the dwelling at night. A major trans- 
gression. 

Second, he had robbed the community of food: a very 


164 


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serious crime, even though what he had taken was left- 
overs, set out on the dwelling doorsteps for collection. 

Third, he had stolen his father's bicycle. He had hesi- 
tated for a moment, standing beside the bikeport in the 
darkness, not wanting anything of his father's and uncer- 
tain, as well, whether he could comfortably ride the larger 
bike when he was so accustomed to his own. 

But it was necessary because it had the child seat at- 
tached to the back. 

And he had taken Gabriel, too. 

He could feel the little head nudge his back, bouncing 
gently against him as he rode. Gabriel was sleeping 
soundly, strapped into the seat. Before he had left the 
dwelling, he had laid his hands firmly on Gabe's back and 
transmitted to him the most soothing memory he could: a 
slow-swinging hammock under palm trees on an island 
someplace, at evening, with a rhythmic sound of languid 
water lapping hypnotically against a beach nearby. As the 
memory seeped from him into the newchild, he could feel 
Gabe's sleep ease and deepen. There had been no stir at all 
when Jonas lifted him from the crib and placed him gently 
into the molded seat. 

He knew that he had the remaining hours of night be- 
fore they would be aware of his escape. So he rode hard, 
steadily, willing himself not to tire as the minutes and miles 
passed. There had been no time to receive the memories he 
and The Giver had counted on, of strength and courage. So 
he relied on what he had, and hoped it would be enough. 

He circled the outlying communities, their dwellings 


dark. Gradually the distances between communities wid- 
ened, with longer stretches of empty road. His legs ached 
at first; then, as time passed, they became numb. 

At dawn Gabriel began to stir. They were in an isolated 
place; fields on either side of the road were dotted with 
thickets of trees here and there. He saw a stream, and made 
his way to it across a rutted, bumpy meadow; Gabriel, 
wide awake now, giggled as the bicycle jolted him up and 
down. 

Jonas unstrapped Gabe, lifted him from the bike, and 
watched him investigate the grass and twigs with delight. 
Carefully he hid the bicycle in thick bushes. 

"Morning meal, Gabe!" He unwrapped some of the food 
and fed them both. Then he filled the cup he had brought 
with water from the stream and held it for Gabriel to drink. 
He drank thirstily himself, and sat by the stream, watching 
the newchild play. 

He was exhausted. He knew he must sleep, resting his 
own muscles and preparing himself for more hours on the 
bicycle. It would not be safe to travel in daylight. 

They would be looking for him soon. 

He found a place deeply hidden in the trees, took the 
newchild there, and lay down, holding Gabriel in his arms. 
Gabe struggled cheerfully as if it were a wrestling game, 
the kind they had played back in the dwelling, with tickles 
and laughter. 

"Sorry, Gabe," Jonas told him. "I know it's morning, 
and I know you just woke up. But we have to sleep now." 

He cuddled the small body close to him, and rubbed the 
little back. He murmured to Gabriel soothingly. Then 


166 


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he pressed his hands firmly and transmitted a memory of 
deep, contented exhaustion. Gabriel's head nodded, after a 
moment, and fell against Jonas's chest. 

Together the fugitives slept through the first dangerous 
day. 

The most terrifying thing was the planes. By now, days 
had passed; Jonas no longer knew how many. The journey 
had become automatic: the sleep by days, hidden in un- 
derbrush and trees; the finding of water; the careful divi- 
sion of scraps of food, augmented by what he could find in 
the fields. And the endless, endless miles on the bicycle by 
night. 

His leg muscles were taut now. They ached when he 
settled himself to sleep. But they were stronger, and he 
stopped now less often to rest. Sometimes he paused and 
lifted Gabriel down for a brief bit of exercise, running 
down the road or through a field together in the dark. But 

always, when he returned, strapped the uncomplaining 
toddler into the seat again, and remounted, his legs were 
ready. 

So he had enough strength of his own, and had not 
needed what The Giver might have provided, had there 
been time. 

But when the planes came, he wished that he could have 
received the courage. 

He knew they were search planes. They flew so low that 
they woke him with the noise of their engines, and some- 
times, looking out and up fearfully from the hiding places, 
he could almost see the faces of the searchers. 

He knew that they could not see color, and that their 


flesh, as well as Gabriel's light golden curls, would be no 
more than smears of gray against the colorless foliage. But 
he remembered from his science and technology studies at 
school that the search planes used heat-seeking devices 
which could identify body warmth and would hone in on 
two humans huddled in shrubbery. 

So always, when he heard the aircraft sound, he reached 
to Gabriel and transmitted memories of snow, keeping some 
for himself. Together they became cold; and when the 
planes were gone, they would shiver, holding each other, 
until sleep came again. 

Sometimes, urging the memories into Gabriel, Jonas felt 
that they were more shallow, a little weaker than they had 
been. It was what he had hoped, and what he and The Giver 
had planned: that as he moved away from the community, 
he would shed the memories and leave them be-hind for the 
people. But now, when he needed them, when the planes 
came, he tried hard to cling to what he still had, of cold, 
and to use it for their survival. 

Usually the aircraft came by day, when they were hid- 
ing. But he was alert at night, too, on the road, always lis- 
tening intently for the sound of the engines. Even Gabriel 
listened, and would call out, "Plane! Plane!" sometimes 
before Jonas had heard the terrifying noise. When the air- 
craft searchers came, as they did occasionally, during the 
night as they rode, Jonas sped to the nearest tree or bush, 
dropped to the ground, and made himself and Gabriel cold. 
But it was sometimes a frighteningly close call. 

As he pedaled through the nights, through isolated 
landscape now, with the communities far behind and no 
sign of human habitation around him or ahead, he was 


168 


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constantly vigilant, looking for the next nearest hiding place 
should the sound of engines come. 

But the frequency of the planes diminished. They came 
less often, and flew, when they did come, less slowly, as if 
the search had become haphazard and no longer hopeful. 
Finally there was an entire day and night when they did not 
come at all. 


170 


22 


Now the landscape was changing. It was a subtle change, 
hard to identify at first. The road was narrower, and bumpy, 
apparently no longer tended by road crews. It was harder, 
suddenly, to balance on the bike, as the front wheel wobbled 
over stones and ruts. 

One night Jonas fell, when the bike jolted to a sudden 
stop against a rock. He grabbed instinctively for Gabriel; and 
the newchild, strapped tightly in his seat, was uninjured, 
only frightened when the bike fell to its side. But Jonas's 
ankle was twisted, and his knees were scraped and raw, 
blood seeping through his tom trousers. Painfully he righted 
himself and the bike, and reassured Gabe. 

Tentatively he began to ride in daylight. He had forgot- 
ten the fear of the searchers, who seemed to have diminished 
into the past. But now there were new fears; the unfamiliar 
landscape held hidden, unknown perils. 

Trees became more numerous, and the forests beside the 
road were dark and thick with mystery. They saw streams 
more frequently now and stopped often to drink. Jonas 
carefully washed his injured knees, wincing as he rubbed at 
the raw flesh. The constant ache of his swollen ankle was 
eased when he soaked it occasionally in the cold water that 
rushed through roadside gullies. 


171 



He was newly aware that Gabriel's safety depended en- 
tirely upon his own continued strength. 

They saw their first waterfall, and for the first time 
wildlife. 

"Plane! Plane!" Gabriel called, and Jonas turned swiftly 
into the trees, though he had not seen planes in days, and 
he did not hear an aircraft engine now. When he stopped 
the bicycle in the shrubbery and turned to grab Gabe, he 
saw the small chubby arm pointing toward the sky. 

Terrified, he looked up, but it was not a plane at all. 
Though he had never seen one before, he identified it from 
his fading memories, for The Giver had given them to him 
often. It was a bird. 

Soon there were many birds along the way, soaring 
overhead, calling. They saw deer; and once, beside the road, 
looking at them curious and unafraid, a small reddish- 
brown creature with a thick tail, whose name Jonas did not 
know. He slowed the bike and they stared at one an-other 
until the creature turned away and disappeared into the 
woods. 

All of it was new to him. After a life of Sameness and 
predictability, he was awed by the surprises that lay beyond 
each curve of the road. He slowed the bike again and again 
to look with wonder at wildflowers, to enjoy the throaty 
warble of a new bird nearby, or merely to watch the way 
wind shifted the leaves in the trees. During his twelve years 
in the community, he had never felt such simple moments 
of exquisite happiness. 

But there were desperate fears building in him now as 
well. The most relentless of his new fears was that they 
would starve. Now that they had left the cultivated fields 


behind them, it was almost impossible to find food. They 
finished the meager store of potatoes and carrots they had 
saved from the last agricultural area, and now they were 
always hungry. 

Jonas knelt by a stream and tried without success to 
catch a fish with his hands. Frustrated, he threw rocks into 
the water, knowing even as he did so that it was useless. 
Finally, in desperation, he fashioned a makeshift net, 
looping the strands of Gabriel's blanket around a curved 
stick. 

After countless tries, the net yielded two flopping sil- 
very fish. Methodically Jonas hacked them to pieces with a 
sharp rock and fed the raw shreds to himself and to Ga- 
briel. They ate some berries, and tried without success to 
catch a bird. 

At night, while Gabriel slept beside him, Jonas lay 
awake, tortured by hunger, and remembered his life in the 
community where meals were delivered to each dwelling 
every day. 

He tried to use the flagging power of his memory to re- 
create meals, and managed brief, tantalizing fragments: 
banquets with huge roasted meats; birthday parties with 
thick-frosted cakes; and lush fruits picked and eaten, sun- 
warmed and dripping, from trees. 

But when the memory glimpses subsided, he was left 
with the gnawing, painful emptiness. Jonas remembered, 
suddenly and grimly, the time in his childhood when he had 
been chastised for misusing a word. The word had been 
"starving." You have never been starving, he had been told. 
You will never be starving. 

Now he was. If he had stayed in the community, he 


172 


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would not be. It was as simple as that. Once he had yearned 
for choice. Then, when he had had a choice, he had made 
the wrong one: the choice to leave. And now he was 
starving. 

But if he had stayed ... 

His thoughts continued. If he had stayed, he would have 
starved in other ways. He would have lived a life hungry 
for feelings, for color, for love. 

And Gabriel? For Gabriel there would have been no life 
at all. So there had not really been a choice. 

It became a struggle to ride the bicycle as Jonas weak- 
ened from lack of food, and realized at the same time that 
he was encountering something he had for a long time 
yearned to see: hills. His sprained ankle throbbed as he 
forced the pedal downward in an effort that was almost 
beyond him. 

And the weather was changing. It rained for two days. 
Jonas had never seen rain, though he had experienced it 
often in the memories. He had liked those rains, enjoyed 
the new feeling of it, but this was different. He and Gabriel 
became cold and wet, and it was hard to get dry, even when 
sunshine occasionally followed. 

Gabriel had not cried during the long frightening jour- 
ney. Now he did. He cried because he was hungry and cold 
and terribly weak. Jonas cried, too, for the same reasons, 
and another reason as well. He wept because he was afraid 
now that he could not save Gabriel. He no longer cared 
about himself. 


23 


Jonas felt more and more certain that the destination lay 
ahead of him, very near now in the night that was ap- 
proaching. None of his senses confirmed it. He saw nothing 
ahead except the endless ribbon of road unfolding in 
twisting narrow curves. He heard no sound ahead. 

Yet he felt it: felt that Elsewhere was not far away. But 
he had little hope left that he would be able to reach it. His 
hope diminished further when the sharp, cold air began to 
blur and thicken with swirling white. 

Gabriel, wrapped in his inadequate blanket, was 
hunched, shivering, and silent in his little seat. Jonas 
stopped the bike wearily, lifted the child down, and real- 
ized with heartbreak how cold and weak Gabe had be- 
come. 

Standing in the freezing mound that was thickening 
around his numb feet, Jonas opened his own tunic, held 
Gabriel to his bare chest, and tied the tom and dirty blanket 
around them both. Gabriel moved feebly against him and 
whimpered briefly into the silence that surrounded them. 

Dimly, from a nearly forgotten perception as blurred as 
the substance itself, Jonas recalled what the whiteness was. 


174 


175 



"It's called snow, Gabe," Jonas whispered. "Snow- 
flakes. They fall down from the sky, and they're very 
beautiful." 

There was no response from the child who had once 
been so curious and alert. Jonas looked down through the 
dusk at the little head against his chest. Gabriel's curly hair 
was matted and filthy, and there were tearstains out-lined 
in dirt on his pale cheeks. His eyes were closed. As Jonas 
watched, a snowflake drifted down and was caught briefly 
for a moment's sparkle in the tiny fluttering eye-lashes. 

Wearily he remounted the bicycle. A steep hill loomed 
ahead. In the best of conditions, the hill would have been a 
difficult, demanding ride. But now the rapidly deepening 
snow obscured the narrow road and made the ride im- 
possible. His front wheel moved forward imperceptibly as 
he pushed on the pedals with his numb, exhausted legs. 
But the bicycle stopped. It would not move. 

He got off and let it drop sideways into the snow. For a 
moment he thought how easy it would be to drop beside it 
himself, to let himself and Gabriel slide into the softness of 
snow, the darkness of night, the warm comfort of sleep. 

But he had come this far. He must try to go on. 

The memories had fallen behind him now, escaping 
from his protection to return to the people of his commu- 
nity. Were there any left at all? Could he hold onto a last 
bit of warmth? Did he still have the strength to Give? 
Could Gabriel still Receive? 

He pressed his hands into Gabriel's back and tried to 
remember sunshine. For a moment it seemed that nothing 
came to him, that his power was completely gone. Then it 


flickered suddenly, and he felt tiny tongues of heat begin to 
creep across and into his frozen feet and legs. He felt his 
face begin to glow and the tense, cold skin of his arms and 
hands relax. For a fleeting second he felt that he wanted to 
keep it for himself, to let himself bathe in sunlight, unbur- 
dened by anything or anyone else. 

But the moment passed and was followed by an urge, a 
need, a passionate yearning to share the warmth with the 
one person left for him to love. Aching from the effort, he 
forced the memory of warmth into the thin, shivering body 
in his arms. 

Gabriel stirred. For a moment they both were bathed in 
warmth and renewed strength as they stood hugging each 
other in the blinding snow. 

Jonas began to walk up the hill. 

The memory was agonizingly brief. He had trudged no 
more than a few yards through the night when it was gone 
and they were cold again. 

But his mind was alert now. Warming himself ever so 
briefly had shaken away the lethargy and resignation and 
restored his will to survive. He began to walk faster on feet 
that he could no longer feel. But the hill was treacherously 
steep; he was impeded by the snow and his own lack of 
strength. He didn't make it very far before he stumbled and 
fell forward. 

On his knees, unable to rise, Jonas tried a second time. 
His consciousness grasped at a wisp of another warm 
memory, and tried desperately to hold it there, to enlarge it, 
and pass it into Gabriel. His spirits and strength lifted with 
the momentary warmth and he stood. Again, Gabriel stirred 
against him as he began to climb. 


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177 



But the memory faded, leaving him colder than before. 

If only he had had time to receive more warmth from 
The Giver before he escaped! Maybe there would be more 
left for him now. But there was no purpose in if-onlys. His 
entire concentration now had to be on moving his feet, 
warming Gabriel and himself, and going forward. 

He climbed, stopped, and warmed them both briefly 
again, with a tiny scrap of memory that seemed certainly to 
be all he had left. 

The top of the hill seemed so far away, and he did not 
know what lay beyond. But there was nothing left to do but 
continue. He trudged upward. 

As he approached the summit of the hill at last, some- 
thing began to happen. He was not warmer; if anything, he 
felt more numb and more cold. He was not less exhausted; 
on the contrary, his steps were leaden, and he could barely 
move his freezing, tired legs. 

But he began, suddenly, to feel happy. He began to re- 
call happy times. He remembered his parents and his sister. 
He remembered his friends, Asher and Fiona. He 
remembered The Giver. 

Memories of joy flooded through him suddenly. 

He reached the place where the hill crested and he could 
feel the ground under his snow-covered feet become level. It 
would not be uphill anymore. 

"We're almost there, Gabriel," he whispered, feeling 
quite certain without knowing why. "I remember this place, 
Gabe." And it was true. But it was not a grasping of a thin 
and burdensome recollection; this was different. This was 
something that he could keep. It was a memory of his own. 


He hugged Gabriel and rubbed him briskly, warming 
him, to keep him alive. The wind was bitterly cold. The 
snow swirled, blurring his vision. But somewhere ahead, 
through the blinding storm, he knew there was warmth and 
light. 

Using his final strength, and a special knowledge that 
was deep inside him, Jonas found the sled that was waiting 
for them at the top of the hill. Numbly his hands fumbled 
for the rope. 

He settled himself on the sled and hugged Gabe close. 
The hill was steep but the snow was powdery and soft, and 
he knew that this time there would be no ice, no fall, no 
pain. Inside his freezing body, his heart surged with hope. 

They started down. 

Jonas felt himself losing consciousness and with his 
whole being willed himself to stay upright atop the sled, 
clutching Gabriel, keeping him safe. The runners sliced 
through the snow and the wind whipped at his face as they 
sped in a straight line through an incision that seemed to 
lead to the final destination, the place that he had always 
felt was waiting, the Elsewhere that held their future and 
their past. 

He forced his eyes open as they went downward, down- 
ward, sliding, and all at once he could see lights, and he 
recognized them now. He knew they were shining through 
the windows of rooms, that they were the red, blue, and 
yellow lights that twinkled from trees in places where fam- 
ilies created and kept memories, where they celebrated 
love. 

ALICE'S ADVENTURES
IN
WONDERLAND

[Pg 2]

SAM'L GABRIEL SONS & COMPANY
NEW YORK

[Pg 3]

Copyright, 1916,
by SAM'L GABRIEL SONS & COMPANY
NEW YORK

Alice in the Room of the Duchess.

      ALICE'S
ADVENTURES
            IN
WONDERLAND

I—DOWN THE RABBIT-HOLE

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do. Once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, "and what is the use of a book," thought Alice, "without pictures or conversations?"

So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.

There was nothing so very remarkable in that, nor did Alice think it so [Pg 4]very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, "Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!" But when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket and looked at it and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and, burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it and was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole, under the hedge. In another moment, down went Alice after it!

The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down what seemed to be a very deep well.

Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time, as she went down, to look about her. First, she tried to make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves; here and there she saw maps and [Pg 5]pictures hung upon pegs. She took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed. It was labeled "ORANGE MARMALADE," but, to her great disappointment, it was empty; she did not like to drop the jar, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she fell past it.

Down, down, down! Would the fall never come to an end? There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon began talking to herself. "Dinah'll miss me very much to-night, I should think!" (Dinah was the cat.) "I hope they'll remember her saucer of milk at tea-time. Dinah, my dear, I wish you were down here with me!" Alice felt that she was dozing off, when suddenly, thump! thump! down she came upon a heap of sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was over.

Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up in a moment. She looked up, but it was all dark overhead; before her was another long passage and the White Rabbit was still in sight, hurrying down it. There was not a moment to be lost. Away went Alice like the wind and was just in time to hear it say, as it turned a corner, "Oh, my ears and whiskers, how late it's getting!" She was close behind it when she turned the corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen.

She found herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps hanging from the roof. There were doors all 'round the hall, but they were all locked; and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle, [Pg 6]wondering how she was ever to get out again.

Suddenly she came upon a little table, all made of solid glass. There was nothing on it but a tiny golden key, and Alice's first idea was that this might belong to one of the doors of the hall; but, alas! either the locks were too large, or the key was too small, but, at any rate, it would not open any of them. However, on the second time 'round, she came upon a low curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little door about fifteen inches high. She tried the little golden key in the lock, and to her great delight, it fitted!

Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small passage, not much larger than a rat-hole; she knelt down and looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. How she longed to get out of that dark hall and wander about among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but she could not even get her head through the doorway. "Oh," said Alice, "how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if I only knew how to begin."

Alice went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on it, or at any rate, a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes. This time she[Pg 7] found a little bottle on it ("which certainly was not here before," said Alice), and tied 'round the neck of the bottle was a paper label, with the words "DRINK ME" beautifully printed on it in large letters.

"No, I'll look first," she said, "and see whether it's marked 'poison' or not," for she had never forgotten that, if you drink from a bottle marked "poison," it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later. However, this bottle was not marked "poison," so Alice ventured to taste it, and, finding it very nice (it had a sort of mixed flavor of cherry-tart, custard, pineapple, roast turkey, toffy and hot buttered toast), she very soon finished it off.

---

"What a curious feeling!" said Alice. "I must be shutting up like a telescope!"

And so it was indeed! She was now only ten inches high, and her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right size for going through the little door into that lovely garden.

After awhile, finding that nothing more happened, she decided on going into the garden at once; but, alas for poor Alice! When she got to the door, she found she had forgotten the little golden key, and when she went back to the table for it, she found she could not possibly reach it: she could see it quite plainly through the glass and she tried her best to climb up one of the legs of the table, but it was too slippery, and when she had tired herself out with trying, the poor little thing sat down and cried.

"Come, there's no use in crying like that!" said Alice to herself rather sharply. "I advise you to[Pg 8] leave off this minute!" She generally gave herself very good advice (though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes.

Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under the table: she opened it and found in it a very small cake, on which the words "EAT ME" were beautifully marked in currants. "Well, I'll eat it," said Alice, "and if it makes me grow larger, I can reach the key; and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door: so either way I'll get into the garden, and I don't care which happens!"

She ate a little bit and said anxiously to herself, "Which way? Which way?" holding her hand on the top of her head to feel which way she was growing; and she was quite surprised to find that she remained the same size. So she set to work and very soon finished off the cake.

---

[Pg 9]

II—THE POOL OF TEARS

"Curiouser and curiouser!" cried Alice (she was so much surprised that for the moment she quite forgot how to speak good English). "Now I'm opening out like the largest telescope that ever was! Good-by, feet! Oh, my poor little feet, I wonder who will put on your shoes and stockings for you now, dears? I shall be a great deal too far off to trouble myself about you."

Just at this moment her head struck against the roof of the hall; in fact, she was now rather more than nine feet high, and she at once took up the little golden key and hurried off to the garden door.

Poor Alice! It was as much as she could do, lying down on one side, to look through into the garden with one eye; but to get through was more hopeless than ever. She sat down and began to cry again.

She went on shedding gallons of tears, until there was a large pool all 'round her and reaching half down the hall.

After a time, she heard a little pattering of feet in the distance and she hastily dried her eyes to see what was coming. It was the White Rabbit returning, splendidly dressed, with a pair of white kid-gloves in one hand and a large fan in the other. He[Pg 10] came trotting along in a great hurry, muttering to himself, "Oh! the Duchess, the Duchess! Oh! won't she be savage if I've kept her waiting!"

When the Rabbit came near her, Alice began, in a low, timid voice, "If you please, sir—" The Rabbit started violently, dropped the white kid-gloves and the fan and skurried away into the darkness as hard as he could go.

Alice took up the fan and gloves and she kept fanning herself all the time she went on talking. "Dear, dear! How queer everything is to-day! And yesterday things went on just as usual. Was I the same when I got up this morning? But if I'm not the same, the next question is, 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!"

As she said this, she looked down at her hands and was surprised to see that she had put on one of the Rabbit's little white kid-gloves while she was talking. "How can I have done that?" she thought. "I must be growing small again." She got up and went to the table to measure herself by it and found that she was now about two feet high and was going on[Pg 11] shrinking rapidly. She soon found out that the cause of this was the fan she was holding and she dropped it hastily, just in time to save herself from shrinking away altogether.

"That was a narrow escape!" said Alice, a good deal frightened at the sudden change, but very glad to find herself still in existence. "And now for the garden!" And she ran with all speed back to the little door; but, alas! the little door was shut again and the little golden key was lying on the glass table as before. "Things are worse than ever," thought the poor child, "for I never was so small as this before, never!"

As she said these words, her foot slipped, and in another moment, splash! she was up to her chin in salt-water. Her first idea was that she had somehow fallen into the sea. However, she soon made out that she was in the pool of tears which she had wept when she was nine feet high.

Just then she heard something splashing about in the pool a little way off, and she swam nearer to see what it was: she soon made out that it was only a mouse that had slipped in like herself.[Pg 12]

"Would it be of any use, now," thought Alice, "to speak to this mouse? Everything is so out-of-the-way down here that I should think very likely it can talk; at any rate, there's no harm in trying." So she began, "O Mouse, do you know the way out of this pool? I am very tired of swimming about here, O Mouse!" The Mouse looked at her rather inquisitively and seemed to her to wink with one of its little eyes, but it said nothing.

"Perhaps it doesn't understand English," thought Alice. "I dare say it's a French mouse, come over with William the Conqueror." So she began again: "Où est ma chatte?" which was the first sentence in her French lesson-book. The Mouse gave a sudden leap out of the water and seemed to quiver all over with fright. "Oh, I beg your pardon!" cried Alice hastily, afraid that she had hurt the poor animal's feelings. "I quite forgot you didn't like cats."

"Not like cats!" cried the Mouse in a shrill, passionate voice. "Would you like cats, if you were me?"

"Well, perhaps not," said Alice in a soothing tone; "don't be angry about it. And yet I wish I could show you our cat Dinah. I think you'd take a fancy to cats, if you could only see her. She is such a dear, quiet thing." The Mouse was bristling all over and she felt certain it must be really offended. "We won't talk about her any more, if you'd rather not."

"We, indeed!" cried the Mouse, who was trembling down to the end of its tail. "As if I would talk on such a subject! Our family always hated cats[Pg 13]—nasty, low, vulgar things! Don't let me hear the name again!"

Alice at the Mad Tea Party.

"I won't indeed!" said Alice, in a great hurry to change the subject of conversation. "Are you—are you fond—of—of dogs? There is such a nice little dog near our house, I should like to show you! It kills all the rats and—oh, dear!" cried Alice in a sorrowful tone. "I'm afraid I've offended it again!" For the Mouse was swimming away from her as hard as it could go, and making quite a commotion in the pool as it went.

So she called softly after it, "Mouse dear! Do come back again, and we won't talk about cats, or dogs either, if you don't like them!" When the Mouse heard this, it turned 'round and swam slowly back to her; its face was quite pale, and it said, in a low, trembling voice, "Let us get to the shore and then I'll tell you my history and you'll understand why it is I hate cats and dogs."

It was high time to go, for the pool was getting quite crowded with the birds and animals that had fallen into it; there were a Duck and a Dodo, a Lory and an Eaglet, and several other curious creatures. Alice led the way and the whole party swam to the shore.

---

[Pg 14]

III—A CAUCUS-RACE AND A LONG TALE

They were indeed a queer-looking party that assembled on the bank—the birds with draggled feathers, the animals with their fur clinging close to them, and all dripping wet, cross and uncomfortable.

The first question, of course, was how to get dry again. They had a consultation about this and after a few minutes, it seemed quite natural to Alice to find herself talking familiarly with them, as if she had known them all her life.

At last the Mouse, who seemed to be a person of[Pg 15] some authority among them, called out, "Sit down, all of you, and listen to me! I'll soon make you dry enough!" They all sat down at once, in a large ring, with the Mouse in the middle.

"Ahem!" said the Mouse with an important air. "Are you all ready? This is the driest thing I know. Silence all 'round, if you please! 'William the Conqueror, whose cause was favored by the pope, was soon submitted to by the English, who wanted leaders, and had been of late much accustomed to usurpation and conquest. Edwin and Morcar, the Earls of Mercia and Northumbria'—"

"Ugh!" said the Lory, with a shiver.

"—'And even Stigand, the patriotic archbishop of Canterbury, found it advisable'—"

"Found what?" said the Duck.

"Found it," the Mouse replied rather crossly; "of course, you know what 'it' means."

"I know what 'it' means well enough, when I find a thing," said the Duck; "it's generally a frog or a worm. The question is, what did the archbishop find?"

The Mouse did not notice this question, but hurriedly went on, "'—found it advisable to go with Edgar Atheling to meet William and offer him the crown.'—How are you getting on now, my dear?" it continued, turning to Alice as it spoke.

"As wet as ever," said Alice in a melancholy tone; "it doesn't seem to dry me at all."

"In that case," said the Dodo solemnly, rising to its feet, "I move that the meeting adjourn, for the immediate adoption of more energetic remedies—"[Pg 16]

"Speak English!" said the Eaglet. "I don't know the meaning of half those long words, and, what's more, I don't believe you do either!"

"What I was going to say," said the Dodo in an offended tone, "is that the best thing to get us dry would be a Caucus-race."

"What is a Caucus-race?" said Alice.

"Why," said the Dodo, "the best way to explain it is to do it." First it marked out a race-course, in a sort of circle, and then all the party were placed along the course, here and there. There was no "One, two, three and away!" but they began running when they liked and left off when they liked, so that it was not easy to know when the race was over. However, when they had been running half an hour or so and were quite dry again, the Dodo suddenly called out, "The race is over!" and they all crowded 'round it, panting and asking, "But who has won?"[Pg 17]

This question the Dodo could not answer without a great deal of thought. At last it said, "Everybody has won, and all must have prizes."

"But who is to give the prizes?" quite a chorus of voices asked.

"Why, she, of course," said the Dodo, pointing to Alice with one finger; and the whole party at once crowded 'round her, calling out, in a confused way, "Prizes! Prizes!"

Alice had no idea what to do, and in despair she put her hand into her pocket and pulled out a box of comfits (luckily the salt-water had not got into it) and handed them 'round as prizes. There was exactly one a-piece, all 'round.

The next thing was to eat the comfits; this caused some noise and confusion, as the large birds complained that they could not taste theirs, and the small ones choked and had to be patted on the back. However, it was over at last and they sat down again in a ring and begged the Mouse to tell them something more.

"You promised to tell me your history, you know," said Alice, "and why it is you hate—C and D," she added in a whisper, half afraid that it would be offended again.

"Mine is a long and a sad tale!" said the Mouse, turning to Alice and sighing.

"It is a long tail, certainly," said Alice, looking down with wonder at the Mouse's tail, "but why do you call it sad?" And she kept on puzzling about it while the Mouse was speaking, so that her idea of the tale was something like this:[Pg 18]--

[Pg 19]"You are not attending!" said the Mouse to Alice, severely. "What are you thinking of?"

"I beg your pardon," said Alice very humbly, "you had got to the fifth bend, I think?"

"You insult me by talking such nonsense!" said the Mouse, getting up and walking away.

"Please come back and finish your story!" Alice called after it. And the others all joined in chorus, "Yes, please do!" But the Mouse only shook its head impatiently and walked a little quicker.

"I wish I had Dinah, our cat, here!" said Alice. This caused a remarkable sensation among the party. Some of the birds hurried off at once, and a Canary called out in a trembling voice, to its children, "Come away, my dears! It's high time you were all in bed!" On various pretexts they all moved off and Alice was soon left alone.

"I wish I hadn't mentioned Dinah! Nobody seems to like her down here and I'm sure she's the best cat in the world!" Poor Alice began to cry again, for she felt very lonely and low-spirited. In a little while, however, she again heard a little pattering of footsteps in the distance and she looked up eagerly.

---

[Pg 20]

IV—THE RABBIT SENDS IN A LITTLE BILL

It was the White Rabbit, trotting slowly back again and looking anxiously about as it went, as if it had lost something; Alice heard it muttering to itself, "The Duchess! The Duchess! Oh, my dear paws! Oh, my fur and whiskers! She'll get me executed, as sure as ferrets are ferrets! Where can I have dropped them, I wonder?" Alice guessed in a moment that it was looking for the fan and the pair of white kid-gloves and she very good-naturedly began hunting about for them, but they were nowhere to be seen—everything seemed to have changed since her swim in the pool, and the great hall, with the glass table and the little door, had vanished completely.[Pg 21]

Very soon the Rabbit noticed Alice, and called to her, in an angry tone, "Why, Mary Ann, what are you doing out here? Run home this moment and fetch me a pair of gloves and a fan! Quick, now!"

"He took me for his housemaid!" said Alice, as she ran off. "How surprised he'll be when he finds out who I am!" As she said this, she came upon a neat little house, on the door of which was a bright brass plate with the name "W. RABBIT" engraved upon it. She went in without knocking and hurried upstairs, in great fear lest she should meet the real Mary Ann and be turned out of the house before she had found the fan and gloves.

By this time, Alice had found her way into a tidy little room with a table in the window, and on it a fan and two or three pairs of tiny white kid-gloves; she took up the fan and a pair of the gloves and was just going to leave the room, when her eyes fell upon a little bottle that stood near the looking-glass. She uncorked it and put it to her lips, saying to herself, "I do hope it'll make me grow large again, for, really, I'm quite tired of being such a tiny little thing!"

Before she had drunk half the bottle, she found her head pressing against the ceiling, and had to stoop to save her neck from being broken. She hastily put down the bottle, remarking, "That's quite enough—I hope I sha'n't grow any more."

Alas! It was too late to wish that! She went on growing and growing and very soon she had to kneel down on the floor. Still she went on growing, and, as a last resource, she put one arm out of the window and one foot up the chimney, and said to herself,[Pg 22] "Now I can do no more, whatever happens. What will become of me?"

Luckily for Alice, the little magic bottle had now had its full effect and she grew no larger. After a few minutes she heard a voice outside and stopped to listen.

"Mary Ann! Mary Ann!" said the voice. "Fetch me my gloves this moment!" Then came a little pattering of feet on the stairs. Alice knew it was the Rabbit coming to look for her and she trembled till she shook the house, quite forgetting that she was now about a thousand times as large as the Rabbit and had no reason to be afraid of it.

Presently the Rabbit came up to the door and tried to open it; but as the door opened inwards and Alice's elbow was pressed hard against it, that attempt proved a failure. Alice heard it say to itself, "Then I'll go 'round and get in at the window."

"That you won't!" thought Alice; and after waiting till she fancied she heard the Rabbit just under the window, she suddenly spread out her hand and[Pg 23] made a snatch in the air. She did not get hold of anything, but she heard a little shriek and a fall and a crash of broken glass, from which she concluded that it was just possible it had fallen into a cucumber-frame or something of that sort.

Next came an angry voice—the Rabbit's—"Pat! Pat! Where are you?" And then a voice she had never heard before, "Sure then, I'm here! Digging for apples, yer honor!"

"Here! Come and help me out of this! Now tell me, Pat, what's that in the window?"

"Sure, it's an arm, yer honor!"

"Well, it's got no business there, at any rate; go and take it away!"

There was a long silence after this and Alice could only hear whispers now and then, and at last she spread out her hand again and made another snatch in the air. This time there were two little shrieks and more sounds of broken glass. "I wonder what they'll do next!" thought Alice. "As for pulling me out of the window, I only wish they could!"

She waited for some time without hearing anything more. At last came a rumbling of little cart-wheels and the sound of a good many voices all talking together. She made out the words: "Where's the other ladder? Bill's got the other—Bill! Here, Bill! Will the roof bear?—Who's to go down the chimney?—Nay, I sha'n't! You do it! Here, Bill! The master says you've got to go down the chimney!"

Alice drew her foot as far down the chimney as she could and waited till she heard a little animal scratching and scrambling about in the chimney close above[Pg 24] her; then she gave one sharp kick and waited to see what would happen next.

The first thing she heard was a general chorus of "There goes Bill!" then the Rabbit's voice alone—"Catch him, you by the hedge!" Then silence and then another confusion of voices—"Hold up his head—Brandy now—Don't choke him—What happened to you?"

Last came a little feeble, squeaking voice, "Well, I hardly know—No more, thank ye. I'm better now—all I know is, something comes at me like a Jack-in-the-box and up I goes like a sky-rocket!"

After a minute or two of silence, they began moving about again, and Alice heard the Rabbit say, "A barrowful will do, to begin with."

"A barrowful of what?" thought Alice. But she had not long to doubt, for the next moment a shower of little pebbles came rattling in at the window and some of them hit her in the face. Alice noticed, with some surprise, that the pebbles were all turning into little cakes as they lay on the floor and a bright idea came into her head. "If I eat one of these cakes," she thought, "it's sure to make some change in my size."

So she swallowed one of the cakes and was delighted to find that she began shrinking directly. As soon as she was small enough to get through the door, she ran out of the house and found quite a crowd of little animals and birds waiting outside. They all made a rush at Alice the moment she appeared, but she ran off as hard as she could and soon found herself safe in a thick wood.

"The Duchess tucked her arm affectionately into Alice's."

"The first thing I've got to do," said Alice to herself, [Pg 25]as she wandered about in the wood, "is to grow to my right size again; and the second thing is to find my way into that lovely garden. I suppose I ought to eat or drink something or other, but the great question is 'What?'"

Alice looked all around her at the flowers and the blades of grass, but she could not see anything that looked like the right thing to eat or drink under the circumstances. There was a large mushroom growing near her, about the same height as herself. She stretched herself up on tiptoe and peeped over the edge and her eyes immediately met those of a large blue caterpillar, that was sitting on the top, with its arms folded, quietly smoking a long hookah and taking not the smallest notice of her or of anything else.

---

[Pg 26]

V—ADVICE FROM A CATERPILLAR

At last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth and addressed Alice in a languid, sleepy voice.

"Who are you?" said the Caterpillar.

Alice replied, rather shyly, "I—I hardly know, sir, just at present—at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have changed several times since then."

"What do you mean by that?" said the Caterpillar, sternly. "Explain yourself!"[Pg 27]

"I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, sir," said Alice, "because I'm not myself, you see—being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing." She drew herself up and said very gravely, "I think you ought to tell me who you are, first."

"Why?" said the Caterpillar.

As Alice could not think of any good reason and the Caterpillar seemed to be in a very unpleasant state of mind, she turned away.

"Come back!" the Caterpillar called after her. "I've something important to say!" Alice turned and came back again.

"Keep your temper," said the Caterpillar.

"Is that all?" said Alice, swallowing down her anger as well as she could.

"No," said the Caterpillar.

It unfolded its arms, took the hookah out of its mouth again, and said, "So you think you're changed, do you?"

"I'm afraid, I am, sir," said Alice. "I can't remember things as I used—and I don't keep the same size for ten minutes together!"

"What size do you want to be?" asked the Caterpillar.

"Oh, I'm not particular as to size," Alice hastily replied, "only one doesn't like changing so often, you know. I should like to be a little larger, sir, if you wouldn't mind," said Alice. "Three inches is such a wretched height to be."

"It is a very good height indeed!" said the Caterpillar angrily, rearing itself upright as it spoke (it was exactly three inches high).[Pg 28]

In a minute or two, the Caterpillar got down off the mushroom and crawled away into the grass, merely remarking, as it went, "One side will make you grow taller, and the other side will make you grow shorter."

"One side of what? The other side of what?" thought Alice to herself.

"Of the mushroom," said the Caterpillar, just as if she had asked it aloud; and in another moment, it was out of sight.

Alice remained looking thoughtfully at the mushroom for a minute, trying to make out which were the two sides of it. At last she stretched her arms 'round it as far as they would go, and broke off a bit of the edge with each hand.

"And now which is which?" she said to herself, and nibbled a little of the right-hand bit to try the effect. The next moment she felt a violent blow underneath her chin—it had struck her foot!

She was a good deal frightened by this very sudden change, as she was shrinking rapidly; so she set to work at once to eat some of the other bit. Her chin was pressed so closely against her foot that there was hardly room to open her mouth; but she did it at last and managed to swallow a morsel of the left-hand bit....

"Come, my head's free at last!" said Alice; but all she could see, when she looked down, was an immense length of neck, which seemed to rise like a stalk out of a sea of green leaves that lay far below her.

"Where have my shoulders got to? And oh, my poor hands, how is it I can't see you?" She was de[Pg 29]lighted to find that her neck would bend about easily in any direction, like a serpent. She had just succeeded in curving it down into a graceful zigzag and was going to dive in among the leaves, when a sharp hiss made her draw back in a hurry—a large pigeon had flown into her face and was beating her violently with its wings.

"Serpent!" cried the Pigeon.

"I'm not a serpent!" said Alice indignantly. "Let me alone!"

"I've tried the roots of trees, and I've tried banks, and I've tried hedges," the Pigeon went on, "but those serpents! There's no pleasing them!"

Alice was more and more puzzled.

"As if it wasn't trouble enough hatching the eggs," said the Pigeon, "but I must be on the look-out for serpents, night and day! And just as I'd taken the highest tree in the wood," continued the Pigeon, raising its voice to a shriek, "and just as I was thinking I should be free of them at last, they must needs come wriggling down from the sky! Ugh, Serpent!"

"But I'm not a serpent, I tell you!" said Alice. "I'm a—I'm a—I'm a little girl," she added rather[Pg 30] doubtfully, as she remembered the number of changes she had gone through that day.

"You're looking for eggs, I know that well enough," said the Pigeon; "and what does it matter to me whether you're a little girl or a serpent?"

"It matters a good deal to me," said Alice hastily; "but I'm not looking for eggs, as it happens, and if I was, I shouldn't want yours—I don't like them raw."

"Well, be off, then!" said the Pigeon in a sulky tone, as it settled down again into its nest. Alice crouched down among the trees as well as she could, for her neck kept getting entangled among the branches, and every now and then she had to stop and untwist it. After awhile she remembered that she still held the pieces of mushroom in her hands, and she set to work very carefully, nibbling first at one and then at the other, and growing sometimes taller and sometimes shorter, until she had succeeded in bringing herself down to her usual height.

It was so long since she had been anything near the right size that it felt quite strange at first. "The next thing is to get into that beautiful garden—how is that to be done, I wonder?" As she said this, she came suddenly upon an open place, with a little house in it about four feet high. "Whoever lives there," thought Alice, "it'll never do to come upon them this size; why, I should frighten them out of their wits!" She did not venture to go near the house till she had brought herself down to nine inches high.

---

[Pg 31]

VI—PIG AND PEPPER

For a minute or two she stood looking at the house, when suddenly a footman in livery came running out of the wood (judging by his face only, she would have called him a fish)—and rapped loudly at the door with his knuckles. It was opened by another footman in livery, with a round face and large eyes like a frog.

The Fish-Footman began by producing from under his arm a great letter, and this he handed over to the other, saying, in a solemn tone, "For the Duchess.[Pg 32] An invitation from the Queen to play croquet." The Frog-Footman repeated, in the same solemn tone, "From the Queen. An invitation for the Duchess to play croquet." Then they both bowed low and their curls got entangled together.

When Alice next peeped out, the Fish-Footman was gone, and the other was sitting on the ground near the door, staring stupidly up into the sky. Alice went timidly up to the door and knocked.

"There's no sort of use in knocking," said the Footman, "and that for two reasons. First, because I'm on the same side of the door as you are; secondly, because they're making such a noise inside, no one could possibly hear you." And certainly there was a most extraordinary noise going on within—a constant howling and sneezing, and every now and then a great crash, as if a dish or kettle had been broken to pieces.

"How am I to get in?" asked Alice.

"Are you to get in at all?" said the Footman. "That's the first question, you know."

Alice opened the door and went in. The door led right into a large kitchen, which was full of smoke from one end to the other; the Duchess was sitting on a three-legged stool in the middle, nursing a baby; the cook was leaning over the fire, stirring a large caldron which seemed to be full of soup.

"There's certainly too much pepper in that soup!" Alice said to herself, as well as she could for sneezing. Even the Duchess sneezed occasionally; and as for the baby, it was sneezing and howling alternately without a moment's pause. The only two creatures[Pg 33] in the kitchen that did not sneeze were the cook and a large cat, which was grinning from ear to ear.

"Please would you tell me," said Alice, a little timidly, "why your cat grins like that?"

"It's a Cheshire-Cat," said the Duchess, "and that's why."

"I didn't know that Cheshire-Cats always grinned; in fact, I didn't know that cats could grin," said Alice.

"You don't know much," said the Duchess, "and that's a fact."

Just then the cook took the caldron of soup off the fire, and at once set to work throwing everything within her reach at the Duchess and the baby—the fire-irons came first; then followed a shower of saucepans, plates and dishes. The Duchess took no notice of them, even when they hit her, and the baby was howling so much already that it was quite impossible to say whether the blows hurt it or not.

"Oh, please mind what you're doing!" cried Alice, jumping up and down in an agony of terror.

"Here! You may nurse it a bit, if you like!" the Duchess said to Alice, flinging the baby at her as she spoke. "I must go and get ready to play croquet with the Queen," and she hurried out of the room.

Alice caught the baby with some difficulty, as it was a queer-shaped little creature and held out its arms and legs in all directions. "If I don't take this child away with me," thought Alice, "they're sure to kill it in a day or two. Wouldn't it be murder to leave it behind?" She said the last words out loud and the little thing grunted in reply.[Pg 34]

"If you're going to turn into a pig, my dear," said Alice, "I'll have nothing more to do with you. Mind now!"

Alice was just beginning to think to herself, "Now, what am I to do with this creature, when I get it home?" when it grunted again so violently that Alice looked down into its face in some alarm. This time there could be no mistake about it—it was neither more nor less than a pig; so she set the little creature down and felt quite relieved to see it trot away quietly into the wood.

Alice was a little startled by seeing the Cheshire-Cat sitting on a bough of a tree a few yards off. The Cat only grinned when it saw her. "Cheshire-Puss," began Alice, rather timidly, "would you please tell me which way I ought to go from here?"

"In that direction," the Cat said, waving the right paw 'round, "lives a Hatter; and in that direction," waving the other paw, "lives a March Hare. Visit either you like; they're both mad."

"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.

"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat; "we're all mad here. Do you play croquet with the Queen to-day?"

"I should like it very much," said Alice, "but I haven't been invited yet."

"You'll see me there," said the Cat, and vanished.

Alice had not gone much farther before she came in sight of the house of the March Hare; it was so large a house that she did not like to go near till she had nibbled some more of the left-hand bit of mushroom.

---

[Pg 35]

VII—A MAD TEA-PARTY

There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it; a Dormouse was sitting between them, fast asleep.

The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded together at one corner of it. "No room! No room!" they cried out when they saw Alice coming. "There's plenty of room!" said Alice indignantly, and she sat down in a large arm-chair at one end of the table.

The Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this, but all he said was "Why is a raven like a writing-desk?"

"I'm glad they've begun asking riddles—I believe I can guess that," she added aloud.

"Do you mean that you think you can find out the answer to it?" said the March Hare.

"Exactly so," said Alice.

"Then you should say what you mean," the March Hare went on.

"I do," Alice hastily replied; "at least—at least I mean what I say—that's the same thing, you know."

"You might just as well say," added the Dormouse, which seemed to be talking in its sleep, "that 'I breathe when I sleep' is the same thing as 'I sleep when I breathe!'"[Pg 36]

"It is the same thing with you," said the Hatter, and he poured a little hot tea upon its nose. The Dormouse shook its head impatiently and said, without opening its eyes, "Of course, of course; just what I was going to remark myself."

"Have you guessed the riddle yet?" the Hatter said, turning to Alice again.

"No, I give it up," Alice replied. "What's the answer?"

"I haven't the slightest idea," said the Hatter.

"Nor I," said the March Hare.

Alice gave a weary sigh. "I think you might do something better with the time," she said, "than wasting it in asking riddles that have no answers."

"Take some more tea," the March Hare said to Alice, very earnestly.

"I've had nothing yet," Alice replied in an offended tone, "so I can't take more."

"You mean you can't take less," said the Hatter; "it's very easy to take more than nothing."

At this, Alice got up and walked off. The Dormouse fell asleep instantly and neither of the others took the least notice of her going, though she looked [Pg 37]back once or twice; the last time she saw them, they were trying to put the Dormouse into the tea-pot.

The Trial of the Knave of Hearts.

"At any rate, I'll never go there again!" said Alice, as she picked her way through the wood. "It's the stupidest tea-party I ever was at in all my life!" Just as she said this, she noticed that one of the trees had a door leading right into it. "That's very curious!" she thought. "I think I may as well go in at once." And in she went.

Once more she found herself in the long hall and close to the little glass table. Taking the little golden key, she unlocked the door that led into the garden. Then she set to work nibbling at the mushroom (she had kept a piece of it in her pocket) till she was about a foot high; then she walked down the little passage; and then—she found herself at last in the beautiful garden, among the bright flower-beds and the cool fountains.

---

VIII—THE QUEEN'S CROQUET GROUND

Alarge rose-tree stood near the entrance of the garden; the roses growing on it were white, but there were three gardeners at it, busily painting them red. Suddenly their eyes chanced to fall upon Alice, as she stood watching them. "Would you tell me, please," said Alice, a little timidly, "why you are painting those roses?"

Five and Seven said nothing, but looked at Two.[Pg 38] Two began, in a low voice, "Why, the fact is, you see, Miss, this here ought to have been a red rose-tree, and we put a white one in by mistake; and, if the Queen was to find it out, we should all have our heads cut off, you know. So you see, Miss, we're doing our best, afore she comes, to—" At this moment, Five, who had been anxiously looking across the garden, called out, "The Queen! The Queen!" and the three gardeners instantly threw themselves flat upon their faces. There was a sound of many footsteps and Alice looked 'round, eager to see the Queen.

First came ten soldiers carrying clubs, with their hands and feet at the corners: next the ten courtiers; these were ornamented all over with diamonds. After these came the royal children; there were ten of them, all ornamented with hearts. Next came the guests, mostly Kings and Queens, and among them Alice recognized the White Rabbit. Then followed the Knave of Hearts, carrying the King's crown on a crimson velvet cushion; and last of all this grand procession came THE KING AND THE QUEEN OF HEARTS.

When the procession came opposite to Alice, they all stopped and looked at her, and the Queen said severely, "Who is this?" She said it to the Knave of Hearts, who only bowed and smiled in reply.

"My name is Alice, so please Your Majesty," said Alice very politely; but she added to herself, "Why, they're only a pack of cards, after all!"

"Can you play croquet?" shouted the Queen. The question was evidently meant for Alice.[Pg 39]

"Yes!" said Alice loudly.

"Come on, then!" roared the Queen.

"It's—it's a very fine day!" said a timid voice to Alice. She was walking by the White Rabbit, who was peeping anxiously into her face.

"Very," said Alice. "Where's the Duchess?"

"Hush! Hush!" said the Rabbit. "She's under sentence of execution."

"What for?" said Alice.

"She boxed the Queen's ears—" the Rabbit began.

"Get to your places!" shouted the Queen in a voice of thunder, and people began running about in all directions, tumbling up against each other. However, they got settled down in a minute or two, and the game began.

Alice thought she had never seen such a curious croquet-ground in her life; it was all ridges and furrows. The croquet balls were live hedgehogs, and the mallets live flamingos and the soldiers had to double themselves up and stand on their hands and feet, to make the arches.

The players all played at once, without waiting for turns, quarrelling all the while and fighting for the hedgehogs; and in a very short time, the Queen was in a furious passion and went stamping about and shouting, "Off with his head!" or "Off with her head!" about once in a minute.

"They're dreadfully fond of beheading people here," thought Alice; "the great wonder is that there's anyone left alive!"

She was looking about for some way of escape, when she noticed a curious appearance in the air.[Pg 40] "It's the Cheshire-Cat," she said to herself; "now I shall have somebody to talk to."

"How are you getting on?" said the Cat.

"I don't think they play at all fairly," Alice said, in a rather complaining tone; "and they all quarrel so dreadfully one can't hear oneself speak—and they don't seem to have any rules in particular."

"How do you like the Queen?" said the Cat in a low voice.

"Not at all," said Alice.

Alice thought she might as well go back and see how the game was going on. So she went off in search of her hedgehog. The hedgehog was engaged in a fight with another hedgehog, which seemed to Alice an excellent opportunity for croqueting one of them with the other; the only difficulty was that her flamingo was gone across to the other side of the garden, where Alice could see it trying, in a helpless sort of way, to fly up into a tree. She caught the flamingo and tucked it away under her arm, that it might not escape again.[Pg 41]

Just then Alice ran across the Duchess (who was now out of prison). She tucked her arm affectionately into Alice's and they walked off together. Alice was very glad to find her in such a pleasant temper. She was a little startled, however, when she heard the voice of the Duchess close to her ear. "You're thinking about something, my dear, and that makes you forget to talk."

"The game's going on rather better now," Alice said, by way of keeping up the conversation a little.

"'Tis so," said the Duchess; "and the moral of that is—'Oh, 'tis love, 'tis love that makes the world go 'round!'"

"Somebody said," Alice whispered, "that it's done by everybody minding his own business!"

"Ah, well! It means much the same thing," said the Duchess, digging her sharp little chin into Alice's shoulder, as she added "and the moral of that is—'Take care of the sense and the sounds will take care of themselves.'"

To Alice's great surprise, the Duchess's arm that was linked into hers began to tremble. Alice looked up and there stood the Queen in front of them, with her arms folded, frowning like a thunderstorm!

"Now, I give you fair warning," shouted the Queen, stamping on the ground as she spoke, "either you or your head must be off, and that in about half no time. Take your choice!" The Duchess took her choice, and was gone in a moment.

"Let's go on with the game," the Queen said to Alice; and Alice was too much frightened to say a[Pg 42] word, but slowly followed her back to the croquet-ground.

All the time they were playing, the Queen never left off quarreling with the other players and shouting, "Off with his head!" or "Off with her head!" By the end of half an hour or so, all the players, except the King, the Queen and Alice, were in custody of the soldiers and under sentence of execution.

Then the Queen left off, quite out of breath, and walked away with Alice.

Alice heard the King say in a low voice to the company generally, "You are all pardoned."

Suddenly the cry "The Trial's beginning!" was heard in the distance, and Alice ran along with the others.

---

IX—WHO STOLE THE TARTS?

The King and Queen of Hearts were seated on their throne when they arrived, with a great crowd assembled about them—all sorts of little birds and beasts, as well as the whole pack of cards: the Knave was standing before them, in chains, with a soldier on each side to guard him; and near the King was the White Rabbit, with a trumpet in one hand and a scroll of parchment in the other. In the very middle of the court[Pg 43] was a table, with a large dish of tarts upon it. "I wish they'd get the trial done," Alice thought, "and hand 'round the refreshments!"

The judge, by the way, was the King and he wore his crown over his great wig. "That's the jury-box," thought Alice; "and those twelve creatures (some were animals and some were birds) I suppose they are the jurors."

Just then the White Rabbit cried out "Silence in the court!"

"Herald, read the accusation!" said the King.

On this, the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet, then unrolled the parchment-scroll and read as follows:

"Call the first witness," said the King; and the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet and called out, "First witness!"

The first witness was the Hatter. He came in with[Pg 44] a teacup in one hand and a piece of bread and butter in the other.

"You ought to have finished," said the King. "When did you begin?"

The Hatter looked at the March Hare, who had followed him into the court, arm in arm with the Dormouse. "Fourteenth of March, I think it was," he said.

"Give your evidence," said the King, "and don't be nervous, or I'll have you executed on the spot."

This did not seem to encourage the witness at all; he kept shifting from one foot to the other, looking uneasily at the Queen, and, in his confusion, he bit a large piece out of his teacup instead of the bread and butter.

Just at this moment Alice felt a very curious sensation—she was beginning to grow larger again.

The miserable Hatter dropped his teacup and bread and butter and went down on one knee. "I'm a poor man, Your Majesty," he began.

"You're a very poor speaker," said the King.

"You may go," said the King, and the Hatter hurriedly left the court.

"Call the next witness!" said the King.

The next witness was the Duchess's cook. She carried the pepper-box in her hand and the people near the door began sneezing all at once.

"Give your evidence," said the King.

"Sha'n't," said the cook.

The King looked anxiously at the White Rabbit, who said, in a low voice, "Your Majesty must cross-examine this witness."[Pg 45]

"Well, if I must, I must," the King said. "What are tarts made of?"

"Pepper, mostly," said the cook.

For some minutes the whole court was in confusion and by the time they had settled down again, the cook had disappeared.

"Never mind!" said the King, "call the next witness."

Alice watched the White Rabbit as he fumbled over the list. Imagine her surprise when he read out, at the top of his shrill little voice, the name "Alice!"

---

X—ALICE'S EVIDENCE

"Here!" cried Alice. She jumped up in such a hurry that she tipped over the jury-box, upsetting all the jurymen on to the heads of the crowd below.

"Oh, I beg your pardon!" she exclaimed in a tone of great dismay.

"The trial cannot proceed," said the King, "until all the jurymen are back in their proper places--all," he repeated with great emphasis, looking hard at Alice.

"What do you know about this business?" the King said to Alice.

"Nothing whatever," said Alice.

The King then read from his book: "Rule forty-[Pg 46]two. All persons more than a mile high to leave the court."

"I'm not a mile high," said Alice.

"Nearly two miles high," said the Queen.

"Well, I sha'n't go, at any rate," said Alice.

The King turned pale and shut his note-book hastily. "Consider your verdict," he said to the jury, in a low, trembling voice.

"There's more evidence to come yet, please Your Majesty," said the White Rabbit, jumping up in a great hurry. "This paper has just been picked up. It seems to be a letter written by the prisoner to—to somebody." He unfolded the paper as he spoke and added, "It isn't a letter, after all; it's a set of verses."

"Please, Your Majesty," said the Knave, "I didn't write it and they can't prove that I did; there's no name signed at the end."

"You must have meant some mischief, or else you'd have signed your name like an honest man," said the King. There was a general clapping of hands at this.[Pg 47]

"Read them," he added, turning to the White Rabbit.

There was dead silence in the court whilst the White Rabbit read out the verses.

"That's the most important piece of evidence we've heard yet," said the King.

"I don't believe there's an atom of meaning in it," ventured Alice.

"If there's no meaning in it," said the King, "that saves a world of trouble, you know, as we needn't try to find any. Let the jury consider their verdict."

"No, no!" said the Queen. "Sentence first—verdict afterwards."

"Stuff and nonsense!" said Alice loudly. "The idea of having the sentence first!"

"Hold your tongue!" said the Queen, turning purple.

"I won't!" said Alice.

"Off with her head!" the Queen shouted at the top of her voice. Nobody moved.

"Who cares for you?" said Alice (she had grown to her full size by this time). "You're nothing but a pack of cards!"

At this, the whole pack rose up in the air and came flying down upon her; she[Pg 48] gave a little scream, half of fright and half of anger, and tried to beat them off, and found herself lying on the bank, with her head in the lap of her sister, who was gently brushing away some dead leaves that had fluttered down from the trees upon her face.

"Wake up, Alice dear!" said her sister. "Why, what a long sleep you've had!"

"Oh, I've had such a curious dream!" said Alice. And she told her sister, as well as she could remember them, all these strange adventures of hers that you have just been reading about. Alice got up and ran off, thinking while she ran, as well she might, what a wonderful dream it had been.

-

Introduction

Folklore, legends, myths and fairy tales have followed childhood through the ages, for every healthy youngster has a wholesome and instinctive love for stories fantastic, marvelous and manifestly unreal. The winged fairies of Grimm and Andersen have brought more happiness to childish hearts than all other human creations.

Yet the old time fairy tale, having served for generations, may now be classed as "historical" in the children's library; for the time has come for a series of newer "wonder tales" in which the stereotyped genie, dwarf and fairy are eliminated, together with all the horrible and blood-curdling incidents devised by their authors to point a fearsome moral to each tale. Modern education includes morality; therefore the modern child seeks only entertainment in its wonder tales and gladly dispenses with all disagreeable incident.

Having this thought in mind, the story of "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" was written solely to please children of today. It aspires to being a modernized fairy tale, in which the wonderment and joy are retained and the heartaches and nightmares are left out.

 

L. Frank Baum
Chicago, April, 1900.

THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ

1. The Cyclone

Dorothy lived in the midst of the great Kansas prairies, with Uncle Henry, who was a farmer, and Aunt Em, who was the farmer's wife. Their house was small, for the lumber to build it had to be carried by wagon many miles. There were four walls, a floor and a roof, which made one room; and this room contained a rusty looking cookstove, a cupboard for the dishes, a table, three or four chairs, and the beds. Uncle Henry and Aunt Em had a big bed in one corner, and Dorothy a little bed in another corner. There was no garret at all, and no cellar--except a small hole dug in the ground, called a cyclone cellar, where the family could go in case one of those great whirlwinds arose, mighty enough to crush any building in its path. It was reached by a trap door in the middle of the floor, from which a ladder led down into the small, dark hole.

When Dorothy stood in the doorway and looked around, she could see nothing but the great gray prairie on every side. Not a tree nor a house broke the broad sweep of flat country that reached to the edge of the sky in all directions. The sun had baked the plowed land into a gray mass, with little cracks running through it. Even the grass was not green, for the sun had burned the tops of the long blades until they were the same gray color to be seen everywhere. Once the house had been painted, but the sun blistered the paint and the rains washed it away, and now the house was as dull and gray as everything else.

When Aunt Em came there to live she was a young, pretty wife. The sun and wind had changed her, too. They had taken the sparkle from her eyes and left them a sober gray; they had taken the red from her cheeks and lips, and they were gray also. She was thin and gaunt, and never smiled now. When Dorothy, who was an orphan, first came to her, Aunt Em had been so startled by the child's laughter that she would scream and press her hand upon her heart whenever Dorothy's merry voice reached her ears; and she still looked at the little girl with wonder that she could find anything to laugh at.

Uncle Henry never laughed. He worked hard from morning till night and did not know what joy was. He was gray also, from his long beard to his rough boots, and he looked stern and solemn, and rarely spoke.

It was Toto that made Dorothy laugh, and saved her from growing as gray as her other surroundings. Toto was not gray; he was a little black dog, with long silky hair and small black eyes that twinkled merrily on either side of his funny, wee nose. Toto played all day long, and Dorothy played with him, and loved him dearly.

Today, however, they were not playing. Uncle Henry sat upon the doorstep and looked anxiously at the sky, which was even grayer than usual. Dorothy stood in the door with Toto in her arms, and looked at the sky too. Aunt Em was washing the dishes.

From the far north they heard a low wail of the wind, and Uncle Henry and Dorothy could see where the long grass bowed in waves before the coming storm. There now came a sharp whistling in the air from the south, and as they turned their eyes that way they saw ripples in the grass coming from that direction also.

Suddenly Uncle Henry stood up.

"There's a cyclone coming, Em," he called to his wife. "I'll go look after the stock." Then he ran toward the sheds where the cows and horses were kept.

Aunt Em dropped her work and came to the door. One glance told her of the danger close at hand.

"Quick, Dorothy!" she screamed. "Run for the cellar!"

Toto jumped out of Dorothy's arms and hid under the bed, and the girl started to get him. Aunt Em, badly frightened, threw open the trap door in the floor and climbed down the ladder into the small, dark hole. Dorothy caught Toto at last and started to follow her aunt. When she was halfway across the room there came a great shriek from the wind, and the house shook so hard that she lost her footing and sat down suddenly upon the floor.

Then a strange thing happened.

The house whirled around two or three times and rose slowly through the air. Dorothy felt as if she were going up in a balloon.

The north and south winds met where the house stood, and made it the exact center of the cyclone. In the middle of a cyclone the air is generally still, but the great pressure of the wind on every side of the house raised it up higher and higher, until it was at the very top of the cyclone; and there it remained and was carried miles and miles away as easily as you could carry a feather.

It was very dark, and the wind howled horribly around her, but Dorothy found she was riding quite easily. After the first few whirls around, and one other time when the house tipped badly, she felt as if she were being rocked gently, like a baby in a cradle.

Toto did not like it. He ran about the room, now here, now there, barking loudly; but Dorothy sat quite still on the floor and waited to see what would happen.

Once Toto got too near the open trap door, and fell in; and at first the little girl thought she had lost him. But soon she saw one of his ears sticking up through the hole, for the strong pressure of the air was keeping him up so that he could not fall. She crept to the hole, caught Toto by the ear, and dragged him into the room again, afterward closing the trap door so that no more accidents could happen.

Hour after hour passed away, and slowly Dorothy got over her fright; but she felt quite lonely, and the wind shrieked so loudly all about her that she nearly became deaf. At first she had wondered if she would be dashed to pieces when the house fell again; but as the hours passed and nothing terrible happened, she stopped worrying and resolved to wait calmly and see what the future would bring. At last she crawled over the swaying floor to her bed, and lay down upon it; and Toto followed and lay down beside her.

In spite of the swaying of the house and the wailing of the wind, Dorothy soon closed her eyes and fell fast asleep.

2. The Council with the Munchkins

She was awakened by a shock, so sudden and severe that if Dorothy had not been lying on the soft bed she might have been hurt. As it was, the jar made her catch her breath and wonder what had happened; and Toto put his cold little nose into her face and whined dismally. Dorothy sat up and noticed that the house was not moving; nor was it dark, for the bright sunshine came in at the window, flooding the little room. She sprang from her bed and with Toto at her heels ran and opened the door.

The little girl gave a cry of amazement and looked about her, her eyes growing bigger and bigger at the wonderful sights she saw.

The cyclone had set the house down very gently--for a cyclone--in the midst of a country of marvelous beauty. There were lovely patches of greensward all about, with stately trees bearing rich and luscious fruits. Banks of gorgeous flowers were on every hand, and birds with rare and brilliant plumage sang and fluttered in the trees and bushes. A little way off was a small brook, rushing and sparkling along between green banks, and murmuring in a voice very grateful to a little girl who had lived so long on the dry, gray prairies.

While she stood looking eagerly at the strange and beautiful sights, she noticed coming toward her a group of the queerest people she had ever seen. They were not as big as the grown folk she had always been used to; but neither were they very small. In fact, they seemed about as tall as Dorothy, who was a well-grown child for her age, although they were, so far as looks go, many years older.

Three were men and one a woman, and all were oddly dressed. They wore round hats that rose to a small point a foot above their heads, with little bells around the brims that tinkled sweetly as they moved. The hats of the men were blue; the little woman's hat was white, and she wore a white gown that hung in pleats from her shoulders. Over it were sprinkled little stars that glistened in the sun like diamonds. The men were dressed in blue, of the same shade as their hats, and wore well-polished boots with a deep roll of blue at the tops. The men, Dorothy thought, were about as old as Uncle Henry, for two of them had beards. But the little woman was doubtless much older. Her face was covered with wrinkles, her hair was nearly white, and she walked rather stiffly.

When these people drew near the house where Dorothy was standing in the doorway, they paused and whispered among themselves, as if afraid to come farther. But the little old woman walked up to Dorothy, made a low bow and said, in a sweet voice:

"You are welcome, most noble Sorceress, to the land of the Munchkins. We are so grateful to you for having killed the Wicked Witch of the East, and for setting our people free from bondage."

Dorothy listened to this speech with wonder. What could the little woman possibly mean by calling her a sorceress, and saying she had killed the Wicked Witch of the East? Dorothy was an innocent, harmless little girl, who had been carried by a cyclone many miles from home; and she had never killed anything in all her life.

But the little woman evidently expected her to answer; so Dorothy said, with hesitation, "You are very kind, but there must be some mistake. I have not killed anything."

"Your house did, anyway," replied the little old woman, with a laugh, "and that is the same thing. See!" she continued, pointing to the corner of the house. "There are her two feet, still sticking out from under a block of wood."

Dorothy looked, and gave a little cry of fright. There, indeed, just under the corner of the great beam the house rested on, two feet were sticking out, shod in silver shoes with pointed toes.

"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" cried Dorothy, clasping her hands together in dismay. "The house must have fallen on her. Whatever shall we do?"

"There is nothing to be done," said the little woman calmly.

"But who was she?" asked Dorothy.

"She was the Wicked Witch of the East, as I said," answered the little woman. "She has held all the Munchkins in bondage for many years, making them slave for her night and day. Now they are all set free, and are grateful to you for the favor."

"Who are the Munchkins?" inquired Dorothy.

"They are the people who live in this land of the East where the Wicked Witch ruled."

"Are you a Munchkin?" asked Dorothy.

"No, but I am their friend, although I live in the land of the North. When they saw the Witch of the East was dead the Munchkins sent a swift messenger to me, and I came at once. I am the Witch of the North."

"Oh, gracious!" cried Dorothy. "Are you a real witch?"

"Yes, indeed," answered the little woman. "But I am a good witch, and the people love me. I am not as powerful as the Wicked Witch was who ruled here, or I should have set the people free myself."

"But I thought all witches were wicked," said the girl, who was half frightened at facing a real witch. "Oh, no, that is a great mistake. There were only four witches in all the Land of Oz, and two of them, those who live in the North and the South, are good witches. I know this is true, for I am one of them myself, and cannot be mistaken. Those who dwelt in the East and the West were, indeed, wicked witches; but now that you have killed one of them, there is but one Wicked Witch in all the Land of Oz--the one who lives in the West."

"But," said Dorothy, after a moment's thought, "Aunt Em has told me that the witches were all dead--years and years ago."

"Who is Aunt Em?" inquired the little old woman.

"She is my aunt who lives in Kansas, where I came from."

The Witch of the North seemed to think for a time, with her head bowed and her eyes upon the ground. Then she looked up and said, "I do not know where Kansas is, for I have never heard that country mentioned before. But tell me, is it a civilized country?"

"Oh, yes," replied Dorothy.

"Then that accounts for it. In the civilized countries I believe there are no witches left, nor wizards, nor sorceresses, nor magicians. But, you see, the Land of Oz has never been civilized, for we are cut off from all the rest of the world. Therefore we still have witches and wizards amongst us."

"Who are the wizards?" asked Dorothy.

"Oz himself is the Great Wizard," answered the Witch, sinking her voice to a whisper. "He is more powerful than all the rest of us together. He lives in the City of Emeralds."

Dorothy was going to ask another question, but just then the Munchkins, who had been standing silently by, gave a loud shout and pointed to the corner of the house where the Wicked Witch had been lying.

"What is it?" asked the little old woman, and looked, and began to laugh. The feet of the dead Witch had disappeared entirely, and nothing was left but the silver shoes.

"She was so old," explained the Witch of the North, "that she dried up quickly in the sun. That is the end of her. But the silver shoes are yours, and you shall have them to wear." She reached down and picked up the shoes, and after shaking the dust out of them handed them to Dorothy.

"The Witch of the East was proud of those silver shoes," said one of the Munchkins, "and there is some charm connected with them; but what it is we never knew."

Dorothy carried the shoes into the house and placed them on the table. Then she came out again to the Munchkins and said:

"I am anxious to get back to my aunt and uncle, for I am sure they will worry about me. Can you help me find my way?"

The Munchkins and the Witch first looked at one another, and then at Dorothy, and then shook their heads.

"At the East, not far from here," said one, "there is a great desert, and none could live to cross it."

"It is the same at the South," said another, "for I have been there and seen it. The South is the country of the Quadlings."

"I am told," said the third man, "that it is the same at the West. And that country, where the Winkies live, is ruled by the Wicked Witch of the West, who would make you her slave if you passed her way."

"The North is my home," said the old lady, "and at its edge is the same great desert that surrounds this Land of Oz. I'm afraid, my dear, you will have to live with us."

Dorothy began to sob at this, for she felt lonely among all these strange people. Her tears seemed to grieve the kind-hearted Munchkins, for they immediately took out their handkerchiefs and began to weep also. As for the little old woman, she took off her cap and balanced the point on the end of her nose, while she counted "One, two, three" in a solemn voice. At once the cap changed to a slate, on which was written in big, white chalk marks:

 

"LET DOROTHY GO TO THE CITY OF EMERALDS"

 

The little old woman took the slate from her nose, and having read the words on it, asked, "Is your name Dorothy, my dear?"

"Yes," answered the child, looking up and drying her tears.

"Then you must go to the City of Emeralds. Perhaps Oz will help you."

"Where is this city?" asked Dorothy.

"It is exactly in the center of the country, and is ruled by Oz, the Great Wizard I told you of."

"Is he a good man?" inquired the girl anxiously.

"He is a good Wizard. Whether he is a man or not I cannot tell, for I have never seen him."

"How can I get there?" asked Dorothy.

"You must walk. It is a long journey, through a country that is sometimes pleasant and sometimes dark and terrible. However, I will use all the magic arts I know of to keep you from harm."

"Won't you go with me?" pleaded the girl, who had begun to look upon the little old woman as her only friend.

"No, I cannot do that," she replied, "but I will give you my kiss, and no one will dare injure a person who has been kissed by the Witch of the North."

She came close to Dorothy and kissed her gently on the forehead. Where her lips touched the girl they left a round, shining mark, as Dorothy found out soon after.

"The road to the City of Emeralds is paved with yellow brick," said the Witch, "so you cannot miss it. When you get to Oz do not be afraid of him, but tell your story and ask him to help you. Good-bye, my dear."

The three Munchkins bowed low to her and wished her a pleasant journey, after which they walked away through the trees. The Witch gave Dorothy a friendly little nod, whirled around on her left heel three times, and straightway disappeared, much to the surprise of little Toto, who barked after her loudly enough when she had gone, because he had been afraid even to growl while she stood by.

But Dorothy, knowing her to be a witch, had expected her to disappear in just that way, and was not surprised in the least.

3. How Dorothy Saved the Scarecrow

When Dorothy was left alone she began to feel hungry. So she went to the cupboard and cut herself some bread, which she spread with butter. She gave some to Toto, and taking a pail from the shelf she carried it down to the little brook and filled it with clear, sparkling water. Toto ran over to the trees and began to bark at the birds sitting there. Dorothy went to get him, and saw such delicious fruit hanging from the branches that she gathered some of it, finding it just what she wanted to help out her breakfast.

Then she went back to the house, and having helped herself and Toto to a good drink of the cool, clear water, she set about making ready for the journey to the City of Emeralds.

Dorothy had only one other dress, but that happened to be clean and was hanging on a peg beside her bed. It was gingham, with checks of white and blue; and although the blue was somewhat faded with many washings, it was still a pretty frock. The girl washed herself carefully, dressed herself in the clean gingham, and tied her pink sunbonnet on her head. She took a little basket and filled it with bread from the cupboard, laying a white cloth over the top. Then she looked down at her feet and noticed how old and worn her shoes were.

"They surely will never do for a long journey, Toto," she said. And Toto looked up into her face with his little black eyes and wagged his tail to show he knew what she meant.

At that moment Dorothy saw lying on the table the silver shoes that had belonged to the Witch of the East.

"I wonder if they will fit me," she said to Toto. "They would be just the thing to take a long walk in, for they could not wear out."

She took off her old leather shoes and tried on the silver ones, which fitted her as well as if they had been made for her.

Finally she picked up her basket.

"Come along, Toto," she said. "We will go to the Emerald City and ask the Great Oz how to get back to Kansas again."

She closed the door, locked it, and put the key carefully in the pocket of her dress. And so, with Toto trotting along soberly behind her, she started on her journey.

There were several roads nearby, but it did not take her long to find the one paved with yellow bricks. Within a short time she was walking briskly toward the Emerald City, her silver shoes tinkling merrily on the hard, yellow road-bed. The sun shone bright and the birds sang sweetly, and Dorothy did not feel nearly so bad as you might think a little girl would who had been suddenly whisked away from her own country and set down in the midst of a strange land.

She was surprised, as she walked along, to see how pretty the country was about her. There were neat fences at the sides of the road, painted a dainty blue color, and beyond them were fields of grain and vegetables in abundance. Evidently the Munchkins were good farmers and able to raise large crops. Once in a while she would pass a house, and the people came out to look at her and bow low as she went by; for everyone knew she had been the means of destroying the Wicked Witch and setting them free from bondage. The houses of the Munchkins were odd-looking dwellings, for each was round, with a big dome for a roof. All were painted blue, for in this country of the East blue was the favorite color.

Toward evening, when Dorothy was tired with her long walk and began to wonder where she should pass the night, she came to a house rather larger than the rest. On the green lawn before it many men and women were dancing. Five little fiddlers played as loudly as possible, and the people were laughing and singing, while a big table near by was loaded with delicious fruits and nuts, pies and cakes, and many other good things to eat.

The people greeted Dorothy kindly, and invited her to supper and to pass the night with them; for this was the home of one of the richest Munchkins in the land, and his friends were gathered with him to celebrate their freedom from the bondage of the Wicked Witch.

Dorothy ate a hearty supper and was waited upon by the rich Munchkin himself, whose name was Boq. Then she sat upon a settee and watched the people dance.

When Boq saw her silver shoes he said, "You must be a great sorceress."

"Why?" asked the girl.

"Because you wear silver shoes and have killed the Wicked Witch. Besides, you have white in your frock, and only witches and sorceresses wear white."

"My dress is blue and white checked," said Dorothy, smoothing out the wrinkles in it.

"It is kind of you to wear that," said Boq. "Blue is the color of the Munchkins, and white is the witch color. So we know you are a friendly witch."

Dorothy did not know what to say to this, for all the people seemed to think her a witch, and she knew very well she was only an ordinary little girl who had come by the chance of a cyclone into a strange land.

When she had tired watching the dancing, Boq led her into the house, where he gave her a room with a pretty bed in it. The sheets were made of blue cloth, and Dorothy slept soundly in them till morning, with Toto curled up on the blue rug beside her.

She ate a hearty breakfast, and watched a wee Munchkin baby, who played with Toto and pulled his tail and crowed and laughed in a way that greatly amused Dorothy. Toto was a fine curiosity to all the people, for they had never seen a dog before.

"How far is it to the Emerald City?" the girl asked.

"I do not know," answered Boq gravely, "for I have never been there. It is better for people to keep away from Oz, unless they have business with him. But it is a long way to the Emerald City, and it will take you many days. The country here is rich and pleasant, but you must pass through rough and dangerous places before you reach the end of your journey."

This worried Dorothy a little, but she knew that only the Great Oz could help her get to Kansas again, so she bravely resolved not to turn back.

She bade her friends good-bye, and again started along the road of yellow brick. When she had gone several miles she thought she would stop to rest, and so climbed to the top of the fence beside the road and sat down. There was a great cornfield beyond the fence, and not far away she saw a Scarecrow, placed high on a pole to keep the birds from the ripe corn.

Dorothy leaned her chin upon her hand and gazed thoughtfully at the Scarecrow. Its head was a small sack stuffed with straw, with eyes, nose, and mouth painted on it to represent a face. An old, pointed blue hat, that had belonged to some Munchkin, was perched on his head, and the rest of the figure was a blue suit of clothes, worn and faded, which had also been stuffed with straw. On the feet were some old boots with blue tops, such as every man wore in this country, and the figure was raised above the stalks of corn by means of the pole stuck up its back.

While Dorothy was looking earnestly into the queer, painted face of the Scarecrow, she was surprised to see one of the eyes slowly wink at her. She thought she must have been mistaken at first, for none of the scarecrows in Kansas ever wink; but presently the figure nodded its head to her in a friendly way. Then she climbed down from the fence and walked up to it, while Toto ran around the pole and barked.

"Good day," said the Scarecrow, in a rather husky voice.

"Did you speak?" asked the girl, in wonder.

"Certainly," answered the Scarecrow. "How do you do?"

"I'm pretty well, thank you," replied Dorothy politely. "How do you do?"

"I'm not feeling well," said the Scarecrow, with a smile, "for it is very tedious being perched up here night and day to scare away crows."

"Can't you get down?" asked Dorothy.

"No, for this pole is stuck up my back. If you will please take away the pole I shall be greatly obliged to you."

Dorothy reached up both arms and lifted the figure off the pole, for, being stuffed with straw, it was quite light.

"Thank you very much," said the Scarecrow, when he had been set down on the ground. "I feel like a new man."

Dorothy was puzzled at this, for it sounded queer to hear a stuffed man speak, and to see him bow and walk along beside her.

"Who are you?" asked the Scarecrow when he had stretched himself and yawned. "And where are you going?"

"My name is Dorothy," said the girl, "and I am going to the Emerald City, to ask the Great Oz to send me back to Kansas."

"Where is the Emerald City?" he inquired. "And who is Oz?"

"Why, don't you know?" she returned, in surprise.

"No, indeed. I don't know anything. You see, I am stuffed, so I have no brains at all," he answered sadly.

"Oh," said Dorothy, "I'm awfully sorry for you."

"Do you think," he asked, "if I go to the Emerald City with you, that Oz would give me some brains?"

"I cannot tell," she returned, "but you may come with me, if you like. If Oz will not give you any brains you will be no worse off than you are now."

"That is true," said the Scarecrow. "You see," he continued confidentially, "I don't mind my legs and arms and body being stuffed, because I cannot get hurt. If anyone treads on my toes or sticks a pin into me, it doesn't matter, for I can't feel it. But I do not want people to call me a fool, and if my head stays stuffed with straw instead of with brains, as yours is, how am I ever to know anything?"

"I understand how you feel," said the little girl, who was truly sorry for him. "If you will come with me I'll ask Oz to do all he can for you."

"Thank you," he answered gratefully.

They walked back to the road. Dorothy helped him over the fence, and they started along the path of yellow brick for the Emerald City.

Toto did not like this addition to the party at first. He smelled around the stuffed man as if he suspected there might be a nest of rats in the straw, and he often growled in an unfriendly way at the Scarecrow.

"Don't mind Toto," said Dorothy to her new friend. "He never bites."

"Oh, I'm not afraid," replied the Scarecrow. "He can't hurt the straw. Do let me carry that basket for you. I shall not mind it, for I can't get tired. I'll tell you a secret," he continued, as he walked along. "There is only one thing in the world I am afraid of."

"What is that?" asked Dorothy; "the Munchkin farmer who made you?"

"No," answered the Scarecrow; "it's a lighted match."

4. The Road Through the Forest

After a few hours the road began to be rough, and the walking grew so difficult that the Scarecrow often stumbled over the yellow bricks, which were here very uneven. Sometimes, indeed, they were broken or missing altogether, leaving holes that Toto jumped across and Dorothy walked around. As for the Scarecrow, having no brains, he walked straight ahead, and so stepped into the holes and fell at full length on the hard bricks. It never hurt him, however, and Dorothy would pick him up and set him upon his feet again, while he joined her in laughing merrily at his own mishap.

The farms were not nearly so well cared for here as they were farther back. There were fewer houses and fewer fruit trees, and the farther they went the more dismal and lonesome the country became.

At noon they sat down by the roadside, near a little brook, and Dorothy opened her basket and got out some bread. She offered a piece to the Scarecrow, but he refused.

"I am never hungry," he said, "and it is a lucky thing I am not, for my mouth is only painted, and if I should cut a hole in it so I could eat, the straw I am stuffed with would come out, and that would spoil the shape of my head."

Dorothy saw at once that this was true, so she only nodded and went on eating her bread.

"Tell me something about yourself and the country you came from," said the Scarecrow, when she had finished her dinner. So she told him all about Kansas, and how gray everything was there, and how the cyclone had carried her to this queer Land of Oz.

The Scarecrow listened carefully, and said, "I cannot understand why you should wish to leave this beautiful country and go back to the dry, gray place you call Kansas."

"That is because you have no brains" answered the girl. "No matter how dreary and gray our homes are, we people of flesh and blood would rather live there than in any other country, be it ever so beautiful. There is no place like home."

The Scarecrow sighed.

"Of course I cannot understand it," he said. "If your heads were stuffed with straw, like mine, you would probably all live in the beautiful places, and then Kansas would have no people at all. It is fortunate for Kansas that you have brains."

"Won't you tell me a story, while we are resting?" asked the child.

The Scarecrow looked at her reproachfully, and answered:

"My life has been so short that I really know nothing whatever. I was only made day before yesterday. What happened in the world before that time is all unknown to me. Luckily, when the farmer made my head, one of the first things he did was to paint my ears, so that I heard what was going on. There was another Munchkin with him, and the first thing I heard was the farmer saying, 'How do you like those ears?'

"'They aren't straight,'" answered the other.

"'Never mind,'" said the farmer. "'They are ears just the same,'" which was true enough.

"'Now I'll make the eyes,'" said the farmer. So he painted my right eye, and as soon as it was finished I found myself looking at him and at everything around me with a great deal of curiosity, for this was my first glimpse of the world.

"'That's a rather pretty eye,'" remarked the Munchkin who was watching the farmer. "'Blue paint is just the color for eyes.'

"'I think I'll make the other a little bigger,'" said the farmer. And when the second eye was done I could see much better than before. Then he made my nose and my mouth. But I did not speak, because at that time I didn't know what a mouth was for. I had the fun of watching them make my body and my arms and legs; and when they fastened on my head, at last, I felt very proud, for I thought I was just as good a man as anyone.

"'This fellow will scare the crows fast enough,' said the farmer. 'He looks just like a man.'

"'Why, he is a man,' said the other, and I quite agreed with him. The farmer carried me under his arm to the cornfield, and set me up on a tall stick, where you found me. He and his friend soon after walked away and left me alone.

"I did not like to be deserted this way. So I tried to walk after them. But my feet would not touch the ground, and I was forced to stay on that pole. It was a lonely life to lead, for I had nothing to think of, having been made such a little while before. Many crows and other birds flew into the cornfield, but as soon as they saw me they flew away again, thinking I was a Munchkin; and this pleased me and made me feel that I was quite an important person. By and by an old crow flew near me, and after looking at me carefully he perched upon my shoulder and said:

"'I wonder if that farmer thought to fool me in this clumsy manner. Any crow of sense could see that you are only stuffed with straw.' Then he hopped down at my feet and ate all the corn he wanted. The other birds, seeing he was not harmed by me, came to eat the corn too, so in a short time there was a great flock of them about me.

"I felt sad at this, for it showed I was not such a good Scarecrow after all; but the old crow comforted me, saying, 'If you only had brains in your head you would be as good a man as any of them, and a better man than some of them. Brains are the only things worth having in this world, no matter whether one is a crow or a man.'

"After the crows had gone I thought this over, and decided I would try hard to get some brains. By good luck you came along and pulled me off the stake, and from what you say I am sure the Great Oz will give me brains as soon as we get to the Emerald City."

"I hope so," said Dorothy earnestly, "since you seem anxious to have them."

"Oh, yes; I am anxious," returned the Scarecrow. "It is such an uncomfortable feeling to know one is a fool."

"Well," said the girl, "let us go." And she handed the basket to the Scarecrow.

There were no fences at all by the roadside now, and the land was rough and untilled. Toward evening they came to a great forest, where the trees grew so big and close together that their branches met over the road of yellow brick. It was almost dark under the trees, for the branches shut out the daylight; but the travelers did not stop, and went on into the forest.

"If this road goes in, it must come out," said the Scarecrow, "and as the Emerald City is at the other end of the road, we must go wherever it leads us."

"Anyone would know that," said Dorothy.

"Certainly; that is why I know it," returned the Scarecrow. "If it required brains to figure it out, I never should have said it."

After an hour or so the light faded away, and they found themselves stumbling along in the darkness. Dorothy could not see at all, but Toto could, for some dogs see very well in the dark; and the Scarecrow declared he could see as well as by day. So she took hold of his arm and managed to get along fairly well.

"If you see any house, or any place where we can pass the night," she said, "you must tell me; for it is very uncomfortable walking in the dark."

Soon after the Scarecrow stopped.

"I see a little cottage at the right of us," he said, "built of logs and branches. Shall we go there?"

"Yes, indeed," answered the child. "I am all tired out."

So the Scarecrow led her through the trees until they reached the cottage, and Dorothy entered and found a bed of dried leaves in one corner. She lay down at once, and with Toto beside her soon fell into a sound sleep. The Scarecrow, who was never tired, stood up in another corner and waited patiently until morning came.

5. The Rescue of the Tin Woodman

When Dorothy awoke the sun was shining through the trees and Toto had long been out chasing birds around him and squirrels. She sat up and looked around her. There was the Scarecrow, still standing patiently in his corner, waiting for her.

"We must go and search for water," she said to him.

"Why do you want water?" he asked.

"To wash my face clean after the dust of the road, and to drink, so the dry bread will not stick in my throat."

"It must be inconvenient to be made of flesh," said the Scarecrow thoughtfully, "for you must sleep, and eat and drink. However, you have brains, and it is worth a lot of bother to be able to think properly."

They left the cottage and walked through the trees until they found a little spring of clear water, where Dorothy drank and bathed and ate her breakfast. She saw there was not much bread left in the basket, and the girl was thankful the Scarecrow did not have to eat anything, for there was scarcely enough for herself and Toto for the day.

When she had finished her meal, and was about to go back to the road of yellow brick, she was startled to hear a deep groan near by.

"What was that?" she asked timidly.

"I cannot imagine," replied the Scarecrow; "but we can go and see."

Just then another groan reached their ears, and the sound seemed to come from behind them. They turned and walked through the forest a few steps, when Dorothy discovered something shining in a ray of sunshine that fell between the trees. She ran to the place and then stopped short, with a little cry of surprise.

One of the big trees had been partly chopped through, and standing beside it, with an uplifted axe in his hands, was a man made entirely of tin. His head and arms and legs were jointed upon his body, but he stood perfectly motionless, as if he could not stir at all.

Dorothy looked at him in amazement, and so did the Scarecrow, while Toto barked sharply and made a snap at the tin legs, which hurt his teeth.

"Did you groan?" asked Dorothy.

"Yes," answered the tin man, "I did. I've been groaning for more than a year, and no one has ever heard me before or come to help me."

"What can I do for you?" she inquired softly, for she was moved by the sad voice in which the man spoke.

"Get an oil-can and oil my joints," he answered. "They are rusted so badly that I cannot move them at all; if I am well oiled I shall soon be all right again. You will find an oil-can on a shelf in my cottage."

Dorothy at once ran back to the cottage and found the oil-can, and then she returned and asked anxiously, "Where are your joints?"

"Oil my neck, first," replied the Tin Woodman. So she oiled it, and as it was quite badly rusted the Scarecrow took hold of the tin head and moved it gently from side to side until it worked freely, and then the man could turn it himself.

"Now oil the joints in my arms," he said. And Dorothy oiled them and the Scarecrow bent them carefully until they were quite free from rust and as good as new.

The Tin Woodman gave a sigh of satisfaction and lowered his axe, which he leaned against the tree.

"This is a great comfort," he said. "I have been holding that axe in the air ever since I rusted, and I'm glad to be able to put it down at last. Now, if you will oil the joints of my legs, I shall be all right once more."

So they oiled his legs until he could move them freely; and he thanked them again and again for his release, for he seemed a very polite creature, and very grateful.

"I might have stood there always if you had not come along," he said; "so you have certainly saved my life. How did you happen to be here?"

"We are on our way to the Emerald City to see the Great Oz," she answered, "and we stopped at your cottage to pass the night."

"Why do you wish to see Oz?" he asked.

"I want him to send me back to Kansas, and the Scarecrow wants him to put a few brains into his head," she replied.

The Tin Woodman appeared to think deeply for a moment. Then he said:

"Do you suppose Oz could give me a heart?"

"Why, I guess so," Dorothy answered. "It would be as easy as to give the Scarecrow brains."

"True," the Tin Woodman returned. "So, if you will allow me to join your party, I will also go to the Emerald City and ask Oz to help me."

"Come along," said the Scarecrow heartily, and Dorothy added that she would be pleased to have his company. So the Tin Woodman shouldered his axe and they all passed through the forest until they came to the road that was paved with yellow brick.

The Tin Woodman had asked Dorothy to put the oil-can in her basket. "For," he said, "if I should get caught in the rain, and rust again, I would need the oil-can badly."

It was a bit of good luck to have their new comrade join the party, for soon after they had begun their journey again they came to a place where the trees and branches grew so thick over the road that the travelers could not pass. But the Tin Woodman set to work with his axe and chopped so well that soon he cleared a passage for the entire party.

Dorothy was thinking so earnestly as they walked along that she did not notice when the Scarecrow stumbled into a hole and rolled over to the side of the road. Indeed he was obliged to call to her to help him up again.

"Why didn't you walk around the hole?" asked the Tin Woodman.

"I don't know enough," replied the Scarecrow cheerfully. "My head is stuffed with straw, you know, and that is why I am going to Oz to ask him for some brains."

"Oh, I see," said the Tin Woodman. "But, after all, brains are not the best things in the world."

"Have you any?" inquired the Scarecrow.

"No, my head is quite empty," answered the Woodman. "But once I had brains, and a heart also; so, having tried them both, I should much rather have a heart."

"And why is that?" asked the Scarecrow.

"I will tell you my story, and then you will know."

So, while they were walking through the forest, the Tin Woodman told the following story:

"I was born the son of a woodman who chopped down trees in the forest and sold the wood for a living. When I grew up, I too became a woodchopper, and after my father died I took care of my old mother as long as she lived. Then I made up my mind that instead of living alone I would marry, so that I might not become lonely.

"There was one of the Munchkin girls who was so beautiful that I soon grew to love her with all my heart. She, on her part, promised to marry me as soon as I could earn enough money to build a better house for her; so I set to work harder than ever. But the girl lived with an old woman who did not want her to marry anyone, for she was so lazy she wished the girl to remain with her and do the cooking and the housework. So the old woman went to the Wicked Witch of the East, and promised her two sheep and a cow if she would prevent the marriage. Thereupon the Wicked Witch enchanted my axe, and when I was chopping away at my best one day, for I was anxious to get the new house and my wife as soon as possible, the axe slipped all at once and cut off my left leg.

"This at first seemed a great misfortune, for I knew a one-legged man could not do very well as a wood-chopper. So I went to a tinsmith and had him make me a new leg out of tin. The leg worked very well, once I was used to it. But my action angered the Wicked Witch of the East, for she had promised the old woman I should not marry the pretty Munchkin girl. When I began chopping again, my axe slipped and cut off my right leg. Again I went to the tinsmith, and again he made me a leg out of tin. After this the enchanted axe cut off my arms, one after the other; but, nothing daunted, I had them replaced with tin ones. The Wicked Witch then made the axe slip and cut off my head, and at first I thought that was the end of me. But the tinsmith happened to come along, and he made me a new head out of tin.

"I thought I had beaten the Wicked Witch then, and I worked harder than ever; but I little knew how cruel my enemy could be. She thought of a new way to kill my love for the beautiful Munchkin maiden, and made my axe slip again, so that it cut right through my body, splitting me into two halves. Once more the tinsmith came to my help and made me a body of tin, fastening my tin arms and legs and head to it, by means of joints, so that I could move around as well as ever. But, alas! I had now no heart, so that I lost all my love for the Munchkin girl, and did not care whether I married her or not. I suppose she is still living with the old woman, waiting for me to come after her.

"My body shone so brightly in the sun that I felt very proud of it and it did not matter now if my axe slipped, for it could not cut me. There was only one danger--that my joints would rust; but I kept an oil-can in my cottage and took care to oil myself whenever I needed it. However, there came a day when I forgot to do this, and, being caught in a rainstorm, before I thought of the danger my joints had rusted, and I was left to stand in the woods until you came to help me. It was a terrible thing to undergo, but during the year I stood there I had time to think that the greatest loss I had known was the loss of my heart. While I was in love I was the happiest man on earth; but no one can love who has not a heart, and so I am resolved to ask Oz to give me one. If he does, I will go back to the Munchkin maiden and marry her."

Both Dorothy and the Scarecrow had been greatly interested in the story of the Tin Woodman, and now they knew why he was so anxious to get a new heart.

"All the same," said the Scarecrow, "I shall ask for brains instead of a heart; for a fool would not know what to do with a heart if he had one."

"I shall take the heart," returned the Tin Woodman; "for brains do not make one happy, and happiness is the best thing in the world."

Dorothy did not say anything, for she was puzzled to know which of her two friends was right, and she decided if she could only get back to Kansas and Aunt Em, it did not matter so much whether the Woodman had no brains and the Scarecrow no heart, or each got what he wanted.

What worried her most was that the bread was nearly gone, and another meal for herself and Toto would empty the basket. To be sure, neither the Woodman nor the Scarecrow ever ate anything, but she was not made of tin nor straw, and could not live unless she was fed.

6. The Cowardly Lion

All this time Dorothy and her companions had been walking through the thick woods. The road was still paved with yellow brick, but these were much covered by dried branches and dead leaves from the trees, and the walking was not at all good.

There were few birds in this part of the forest, for birds love the open country where there is plenty of sunshine. But now and then there came a deep growl from some wild animal hidden among the trees. These sounds made the little girl's heart beat fast, for she did not know what made them; but Toto knew, and he walked close to Dorothy's side, and did not even bark in return.

"How long will it be," the child asked of the Tin Woodman, "before we are out of the forest?"

"I cannot tell," was the answer, "for I have never been to the Emerald City. But my father went there once, when I was a boy, and he said it was a long journey through a dangerous country, although nearer to the city where Oz dwells the country is beautiful. But I am not afraid so long as I have my oil-can, and nothing can hurt the Scarecrow, while you bear upon your forehead the mark of the Good Witch's kiss, and that will protect you from harm."

"But Toto!" said the girl anxiously. "What will protect him?"

"We must protect him ourselves if he is in danger," replied the Tin Woodman.

Just as he spoke there came from the forest a terrible roar, and the next moment a great Lion bounded into the road. With one blow of his paw he sent the Scarecrow spinning over and over to the edge of the road, and then he struck at the Tin Woodman with his sharp claws. But, to the Lion's surprise, he could make no impression on the tin, although the Woodman fell over in the road and lay still.

Little Toto, now that he had an enemy to face, ran barking toward the Lion, and the great beast had opened his mouth to bite the dog, when Dorothy, fearing Toto would be killed, and heedless of danger, rushed forward and slapped the Lion upon his nose as hard as she could, while she cried out:

"Don't you dare to bite Toto! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, a big beast like you, to bite a poor little dog!"

"I didn't bite him," said the Lion, as he rubbed his nose with his paw where Dorothy had hit it.

"No, but you tried to," she retorted. "You are nothing but a big coward."

"I know it," said the Lion, hanging his head in shame. "I've always known it. But how can I help it?"

"I don't know, I'm sure. To think of your striking a stuffed man, like the poor Scarecrow!"

"Is he stuffed?" asked the Lion in surprise, as he watched her pick up the Scarecrow and set him upon his feet, while she patted him into shape again.

"Of course he's stuffed," replied Dorothy, who was still angry.

"That's why he went over so easily," remarked the Lion. "It astonished me to see him whirl around so. Is the other one stuffed also?"

"No," said Dorothy, "he's made of tin." And she helped the Woodman up again.

"That's why he nearly blunted my claws," said the Lion. "When they scratched against the tin it made a cold shiver run down my back. What is that little animal you are so tender of?"

"He is my dog, Toto," answered Dorothy.

"Is he made of tin, or stuffed?" asked the Lion.

"Neither. He's a--a--a meat dog," said the girl.

"Oh! He's a curious animal and seems remarkably small, now that I look at him. No one would think of biting such a little thing, except a coward like me," continued the Lion sadly.

"What makes you a coward?" asked Dorothy, looking at the great beast in wonder, for he was as big as a small horse.

"It's a mystery," replied the Lion. "I suppose I was born that way. All the other animals in the forest naturally expect me to be brave, for the Lion is everywhere thought to be the King of Beasts. I learned that if I roared very loudly every living thing was frightened and got out of my way. Whenever I've met a man I've been awfully scared; but I just roared at him, and he has always run away as fast as he could go. If the elephants and the tigers and the bears had ever tried to fight me, I should have run myself--I'm such a coward; but just as soon as they hear me roar they all try to get away from me, and of course I let them go."

"But that isn't right. The King of Beasts shouldn't be a coward," said the Scarecrow.

"I know it," returned the Lion, wiping a tear from his eye with the tip of his tail. "It is my great sorrow, and makes my life very unhappy. But whenever there is danger, my heart begins to beat fast."

"Perhaps you have heart disease," said the Tin Woodman.

"It may be," said the Lion.

"If you have," continued the Tin Woodman, "you ought to be glad, for it proves you have a heart. For my part, I have no heart; so I cannot have heart disease."

"Perhaps," said the Lion thoughtfully, "if I had no heart I should not be a coward."

"Have you brains?" asked the Scarecrow.

"I suppose so. I've never looked to see," replied the Lion.

"I am going to the Great Oz to ask him to give me some," remarked the Scarecrow, "for my head is stuffed with straw."

"And I am going to ask him to give me a heart," said the Woodman.

"And I am going to ask him to send Toto and me back to Kansas," added Dorothy.

"Do you think Oz could give me courage?" asked the Cowardly Lion.

"Just as easily as he could give me brains," said the Scarecrow.

"Or give me a heart," said the Tin Woodman.

"Or send me back to Kansas," said Dorothy.

"Then, if you don't mind, I'll go with you," said the Lion, "for my life is simply unbearable without a bit of courage."

"You will be very welcome," answered Dorothy, "for you will help to keep away the other wild beasts. It seems to me they must be more cowardly than you are if they allow you to scare them so easily."

"They really are," said the Lion, "but that doesn't make me any braver, and as long as I know myself to be a coward I shall be unhappy."

So once more the little company set off upon the journey, the Lion walking with stately strides at Dorothy's side. Toto did not approve of this new comrade at first, for he could not forget how nearly he had been crushed between the Lion's great jaws. But after a time he became more at ease, and presently Toto and the Cowardly Lion had grown to be good friends.

During the rest of that day there was no other adventure to mar the peace of their journey. Once, indeed, the Tin Woodman stepped upon a beetle that was crawling along the road, and killed the poor little thing. This made the Tin Woodman very unhappy, for he was always careful not to hurt any living creature; and as he walked along he wept several tears of sorrow and regret. These tears ran slowly down his face and over the hinges of his jaw, and there they rusted. When Dorothy presently asked him a question the Tin Woodman could not open his mouth, for his jaws were tightly rusted together. He became greatly frightened at this and made many motions to Dorothy to relieve him, but she could not understand. The Lion was also puzzled to know what was wrong. But the Scarecrow seized the oil-can from Dorothy's basket and oiled the Woodman's jaws, so that after a few moments he could talk as well as before.

"This will serve me a lesson," said he, "to look where I step. For if I should kill another bug or beetle I should surely cry again, and crying rusts my jaws so that I cannot speak."

Thereafter he walked very carefully, with his eyes on the road, and when he saw a tiny ant toiling by he would step over it, so as not to harm it. The Tin Woodman knew very well he had no heart, and therefore he took great care never to be cruel or unkind to anything.

"You people with hearts," he said, "have something to guide you, and need never do wrong; but I have no heart, and so I must be very careful. When Oz gives me a heart of course I needn't mind so much."

7. The Journey to the Great Oz

They were obliged to camp out that night under a large tree in the forest, for there were no houses near. The tree made a good, thick covering to protect them from the dew, and the Tin Woodman chopped a great pile of wood with his axe and Dorothy built a splendid fire that warmed her and made her feel less lonely. She and Toto ate the last of their bread, and now she did not know what they would do for breakfast.

"If you wish," said the Lion, "I will go into the forest and kill a deer for you. You can roast it by the fire, since your tastes are so peculiar that you prefer cooked food, and then you will have a very good breakfast."

"Don't! Please don't," begged the Tin Woodman. "I should certainly weep if you killed a poor deer, and then my jaws would rust again."

But the Lion went away into the forest and found his own supper, and no one ever knew what it was, for he didn't mention it. And the Scarecrow found a tree full of nuts and filled Dorothy's basket with them, so that she would not be hungry for a long time. She thought this was very kind and thoughtful of the Scarecrow, but she laughed heartily at the awkward way in which the poor creature picked up the nuts. His padded hands were so clumsy and the nuts were so small that he dropped almost as many as he put in the basket. But the Scarecrow did not mind how long it took him to fill the basket, for it enabled him to keep away from the fire, as he feared a spark might get into his straw and burn him up. So he kept a good distance away from the flames, and only came near to cover Dorothy with dry leaves when she lay down to sleep. These kept her very snug and warm, and she slept soundly until morning.

When it was daylight, the girl bathed her face in a little rippling brook, and soon after they all started toward the Emerald City.

This was to be an eventful day for the travelers. They had hardly been walking an hour when they saw before them a great ditch that crossed the road and divided the forest as far as they could see on either side. It was a very wide ditch, and when they crept up to the edge and looked into it they could see it was also very deep, and there were many big, jagged rocks at the bottom. The sides were so steep that none of them could climb down, and for a moment it seemed that their journey must end.

"What shall we do?" asked Dorothy despairingly.

"I haven't the faintest idea," said the Tin Woodman, and the Lion shook his shaggy mane and looked thoughtful.

But the Scarecrow said, "We cannot fly, that is certain. Neither can we climb down into this great ditch. Therefore, if we cannot jump over it, we must stop where we are."

"I think I could jump over it," said the Cowardly Lion, after measuring the distance carefully in his mind.

"Then we are all right," answered the Scarecrow, "for you can carry us all over on your back, one at a time."

"Well, I'll try it," said the Lion. "Who will go first?"

"I will," declared the Scarecrow, "for, if you found that you could not jump over the gulf, Dorothy would be killed, or the Tin Woodman badly dented on the rocks below. But if I am on your back it will not matter so much, for the fall would not hurt me at all."

"I am terribly afraid of falling, myself," said the Cowardly Lion, "but I suppose there is nothing to do but try it. So get on my back and we will make the attempt."

The Scarecrow sat upon the Lion's back, and the big beast walked to the edge of the gulf and crouched down.

"Why don't you run and jump?" asked the Scarecrow.

"Because that isn't the way we Lions do these things," he replied. Then giving a great spring, he shot through the air and landed safely on the other side. They were all greatly pleased to see how easily he did it, and after the Scarecrow had got down from his back the Lion sprang across the ditch again.

Dorothy thought she would go next; so she took Toto in her arms and climbed on the Lion's back, holding tightly to his mane with one hand. The next moment it seemed as if she were flying through the air; and then, before she had time to think about it, she was safe on the other side. The Lion went back a third time and got the Tin Woodman, and then they all sat down for a few moments to give the beast a chance to rest, for his great leaps had made his breath short, and he panted like a big dog that has been running too long.

They found the forest very thick on this side, and it looked dark and gloomy. After the Lion had rested they started along the road of yellow brick, silently wondering, each in his own mind, if ever they would come to the end of the woods and reach the bright sunshine again. To add to their discomfort, they soon heard strange noises in the depths of the forest, and the Lion whispered to them that it was in this part of the country that the Kalidahs lived.

"What are the Kalidahs?" asked the girl.

"They are monstrous beasts with bodies like bears and heads like tigers," replied the Lion, "and with claws so long and sharp that they could tear me in two as easily as I could kill Toto. I'm terribly afraid of the Kalidahs."

"I'm not surprised that you are," returned Dorothy. "They must be dreadful beasts."

The Lion was about to reply when suddenly they came to another gulf across the road. But this one was so broad and deep that the Lion knew at once he could not leap across it.

So they sat down to consider what they should do, and after serious thought the Scarecrow said:

"Here is a great tree, standing close to the ditch. If the Tin Woodman can chop it down, so that it will fall to the other side, we can walk across it easily."

"That is a first-rate idea," said the Lion. "One would almost suspect you had brains in your head, instead of straw."

The Woodman set to work at once, and so sharp was his axe that the tree was soon chopped nearly through. Then the Lion put his strong front legs against the tree and pushed with all his might, and slowly the big tree tipped and fell with a crash across the ditch, with its top branches on the other side.

They had just started to cross this queer bridge when a sharp growl made them all look up, and to their horror they saw running toward them two great beasts with bodies like bears and heads like tigers.

"They are the Kalidahs!" said the Cowardly Lion, beginning to tremble.

"Quick!" cried the Scarecrow. "Let us cross over."

So Dorothy went first, holding Toto in her arms, the Tin Woodman followed, and the Scarecrow came next. The Lion, although he was certainly afraid, turned to face the Kalidahs, and then he gave so loud and terrible a roar that Dorothy screamed and the Scarecrow fell over backward, while even the fierce beasts stopped short and looked at him in surprise.

But, seeing they were bigger than the Lion, and remembering that there were two of them and only one of him, the Kalidahs again rushed forward, and the Lion crossed over the tree and turned to see what they would do next. Without stopping an instant the fierce beasts also began to cross the tree. And the Lion said to Dorothy:

"We are lost, for they will surely tear us to pieces with their sharp claws. But stand close behind me, and I will fight them as long as I am alive."

"Wait a minute!" called the Scarecrow. He had been thinking what was best to be done, and now he asked the Woodman to chop away the end of the tree that rested on their side of the ditch. The Tin Woodman began to use his axe at once, and, just as the two Kalidahs were nearly across, the tree fell with a crash into the gulf, carrying the ugly, snarling brutes with it, and both were dashed to pieces on the sharp rocks at the bottom.

"Well," said the Cowardly Lion, drawing a long breath of relief, "I see we are going to live a little while longer, and I am glad of it, for it must be a very uncomfortable thing not to be alive. Those creatures frightened me so badly that my heart is beating yet."

"Ah," said the Tin Woodman sadly, "I wish I had a heart to beat."

This adventure made the travelers more anxious than ever to get out of the forest, and they walked so fast that Dorothy became tired, and had to ride on the Lion's back. To their great joy the trees became thinner the farther they advanced, and in the afternoon they suddenly came upon a broad river, flowing swiftly just before them. On the other side of the water they could see the road of yellow brick running through a beautiful country, with green meadows dotted with bright flowers and all the road bordered with trees hanging full of delicious fruits. They were greatly pleased to see this delightful country before them.

"How shall we cross the river?" asked Dorothy.

"That is easily done," replied the Scarecrow. "The Tin Woodman must build us a raft, so we can float to the other side."

So the Woodman took his axe and began to chop down small trees to make a raft, and while he was busy at this the Scarecrow found on the riverbank a tree full of fine fruit. This pleased Dorothy, who had eaten nothing but nuts all day, and she made a hearty meal of the ripe fruit.

But it takes time to make a raft, even when one is as industrious and untiring as the Tin Woodman, and when night came the work was not done. So they found a cozy place under the trees where they slept well until the morning; and Dorothy dreamed of the Emerald City, and of the good Wizard Oz, who would soon send her back to her own home again.

8. The Deadly Poppy Field

Our little party of travelers awakened the next morning refreshed and full of hope, and Dorothy breakfasted like a princess off peaches and plums from the trees beside the river. Behind them was the dark forest they had passed safely through, although they had suffered many discouragements; but before them was a lovely, sunny country that seemed to beckon them on to the Emerald City.

To be sure, the broad river now cut them off from this beautiful land. But the raft was nearly done, and after the Tin Woodman had cut a few more logs and fastened them together with wooden pins, they were ready to start. Dorothy sat down in the middle of the raft and held Toto in her arms. When the Cowardly Lion stepped upon the raft it tipped badly, for he was big and heavy; but the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman stood upon the other end to steady it, and they had long poles in their hands to push the raft through the water.

They got along quite well at first, but when they reached the middle of the river the swift current swept the raft downstream, farther and farther away from the road of yellow brick. And the water grew so deep that the long poles would not touch the bottom.

"This is bad," said the Tin Woodman, "for if we cannot get to the land we shall be carried into the country of the Wicked Witch of the West, and she will enchant us and make us her slaves."

"And then I should get no brains," said the Scarecrow.

"And I should get no courage," said the Cowardly Lion.

"And I should get no heart," said the Tin Woodman.

"And I should never get back to Kansas," said Dorothy.

"We must certainly get to the Emerald City if we can," the Scarecrow continued, and he pushed so hard on his long pole that it stuck fast in the mud at the bottom of the river. Then, before he could pull it out again--or let go--the raft was swept away, and the poor Scarecrow was left clinging to the pole in the middle of the river.

"Good-bye!" he called after them, and they were very sorry to leave him. Indeed, the Tin Woodman began to cry, but fortunately remembered that he might rust, and so dried his tears on Dorothy's apron.

Of course this was a bad thing for the Scarecrow.

"I am now worse off than when I first met Dorothy," he thought. "Then, I was stuck on a pole in a cornfield, where I could make-believe scare the crows, at any rate. But surely there is no use for a Scarecrow stuck on a pole in the middle of a river. I am afraid I shall never have any brains, after all!"

Down the stream the raft floated, and the poor Scarecrow was left far behind. Then the Lion said:

"Something must be done to save us. I think I can swim to the shore and pull the raft after me, if you will only hold fast to the tip of my tail."

So he sprang into the water, and the Tin Woodman caught fast hold of his tail. Then the Lion began to swim with all his might toward the shore. It was hard work, although he was so big; but by and by they were drawn out of the current, and then Dorothy took the Tin Woodman's long pole and helped push the raft to the land.

They were all tired out when they reached the shore at last and stepped off upon the pretty green grass, and they also knew that the stream had carried them a long way past the road of yellow brick that led to the Emerald City.

"What shall we do now?" asked the Tin Woodman, as the Lion lay down on the grass to let the sun dry him.

"We must get back to the road, in some way," said Dorothy.

"The best plan will be to walk along the riverbank until we come to the road again," remarked the Lion.

So, when they were rested, Dorothy picked up her basket and they started along the grassy bank, to the road from which the river had carried them. It was a lovely country, with plenty of flowers and fruit trees and sunshine to cheer them, and had they not felt so sorry for the poor Scarecrow, they could have been very happy.

They walked along as fast as they could, Dorothy only stopping once to pick a beautiful flower; and after a time the Tin Woodman cried out: "Look!"

Then they all looked at the river and saw the Scarecrow perched upon his pole in the middle of the water, looking very lonely and sad.

"What can we do to save him?" asked Dorothy.

The Lion and the Woodman both shook their heads, for they did not know. So they sat down upon the bank and gazed wistfully at the Scarecrow until a Stork flew by, who, upon seeing them, stopped to rest at the water's edge.

"Who are you and where are you going?" asked the Stork.

"I am Dorothy," answered the girl, "and these are my friends, the Tin Woodman and the Cowardly Lion; and we are going to the Emerald City."

"This isn't the road," said the Stork, as she twisted her long neck and looked sharply at the queer party.

"I know it," returned Dorothy, "but we have lost the Scarecrow, and are wondering how we shall get him again."

"Where is he?" asked the Stork.

"Over there in the river," answered the little girl.

"If he wasn't so big and heavy I would get him for you," remarked the Stork.

"He isn't heavy a bit," said Dorothy eagerly, "for he is stuffed with straw; and if you will bring him back to us, we shall thank you ever and ever so much."

"Well, I'll try," said the Stork, "but if I find he is too heavy to carry I shall have to drop him in the river again."

So the big bird flew into the air and over the water till she came to where the Scarecrow was perched upon his pole. Then the Stork with her great claws grabbed the Scarecrow by the arm and carried him up into the air and back to the bank, where Dorothy and the Lion and the Tin Woodman and Toto were sitting.

When the Scarecrow found himself among his friends again, he was so happy that he hugged them all, even the Lion and Toto; and as they walked along he sang "Tol-de-ri-de-oh!" at every step, he felt so gay.

"I was afraid I should have to stay in the river forever," he said, "but the kind Stork saved me, and if I ever get any brains I shall find the Stork again and do her some kindness in return."

"That's all right," said the Stork, who was flying along beside them. "I always like to help anyone in trouble. But I must go now, for my babies are waiting in the nest for me. I hope you will find the Emerald City and that Oz will help you."

"Thank you," replied Dorothy, and then the kind Stork flew into the air and was soon out of sight.

They walked along listening to the singing of the brightly colored birds and looking at the lovely flowers which now became so thick that the ground was carpeted with them. There were big yellow and white and blue and purple blossoms, besides great clusters of scarlet poppies, which were so brilliant in color they almost dazzled Dorothy's eyes.

"Aren't they beautiful?" the girl asked, as she breathed in the spicy scent of the bright flowers.

"I suppose so," answered the Scarecrow. "When I have brains, I shall probably like them better."

"If I only had a heart, I should love them," added the Tin Woodman.

"I always did like flowers," said the Lion. "They seem so helpless and frail. But there are none in the forest so bright as these."

They now came upon more and more of the big scarlet poppies, and fewer and fewer of the other flowers; and soon they found themselves in the midst of a great meadow of poppies. Now it is well known that when there are many of these flowers together their odor is so powerful that anyone who breathes it falls asleep, and if the sleeper is not carried away from the scent of the flowers, he sleeps on and on forever. But Dorothy did not know this, nor could she get away from the bright red flowers that were everywhere about; so presently her eyes grew heavy and she felt she must sit down to rest and to sleep.

But the Tin Woodman would not let her do this.

"We must hurry and get back to the road of yellow brick before dark," he said; and the Scarecrow agreed with him. So they kept walking until Dorothy could stand no longer. Her eyes closed in spite of herself and she forgot where she was and fell among the poppies, fast asleep.

"What shall we do?" asked the Tin Woodman.

"If we leave her here she will die," said the Lion. "The smell of the flowers is killing us all. I myself can scarcely keep my eyes open, and the dog is asleep already."

It was true; Toto had fallen down beside his little mistress. But the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, not being made of flesh, were not troubled by the scent of the flowers.

"Run fast," said the Scarecrow to the Lion, "and get out of this deadly flower bed as soon as you can. We will bring the little girl with us, but if you should fall asleep you are too big to be carried."

So the Lion aroused himself and bounded forward as fast as he could go. In a moment he was out of sight.

"Let us make a chair with our hands and carry her," said the Scarecrow. So they picked up Toto and put the dog in Dorothy's lap, and then they made a chair with their hands for the seat and their arms for the arms and carried the sleeping girl between them through the flowers.

On and on they walked, and it seemed that the great carpet of deadly flowers that surrounded them would never end. They followed the bend of the river, and at last came upon their friend the Lion, lying fast asleep among the poppies. The flowers had been too strong for the huge beast and he had given up at last, and fallen only a short distance from the end of the poppy bed, where the sweet grass spread in beautiful green fields before them.

"We can do nothing for him," said the Tin Woodman, sadly; "for he is much too heavy to lift. We must leave him here to sleep on forever, and perhaps he will dream that he has found courage at last."

"I'm sorry," said the Scarecrow. "The Lion was a very good comrade for one so cowardly. But let us go on."

They carried the sleeping girl to a pretty spot beside the river, far enough from the poppy field to prevent her breathing any more of the poison of the flowers, and here they laid her gently on the soft grass and waited for the fresh breeze to waken her.

9. The Queen of the Field Mice

"We cannot be far from the road of yellow brick, now," remarked the Scarecrow, as he stood beside the girl, "for we have come nearly as far as the river carried us away."

The Tin Woodman was about to reply when he heard a low growl, and turning his head (which worked beautifully on hinges) he saw a strange beast come bounding over the grass toward them. It was, indeed, a great yellow Wildcat, and the Woodman thought it must be chasing something, for its ears were lying close to its head and its mouth was wide open, showing two rows of ugly teeth, while its red eyes glowed like balls of fire. As it came nearer the Tin Woodman saw that running before the beast was a little gray field mouse, and although he had no heart he knew it was wrong for the Wildcat to try to kill such a pretty, harmless creature.

So the Woodman raised his axe, and as the Wildcat ran by he gave it a quick blow that cut the beast's head clean off from its body, and it rolled over at his feet in two pieces.

The field mouse, now that it was freed from its enemy, stopped short; and coming slowly up to the Woodman it said, in a squeaky little voice:

"Oh, thank you! Thank you ever so much for saving my life."

"Don't speak of it, I beg of you," replied the Woodman. "I have no heart, you know, so I am careful to help all those who may need a friend, even if it happens to be only a mouse."

"Only a mouse!" cried the little animal, indignantly. "Why, I am a Queen--the Queen of all the Field Mice!"

"Oh, indeed," said the Woodman, making a bow.

"Therefore you have done a great deed, as well as a brave one, in saving my life," added the Queen.

At that moment several mice were seen running up as fast as their little legs could carry them, and when they saw their Queen they exclaimed:

"Oh, your Majesty, we thought you would be killed! How did you manage to escape the great Wildcat?" They all bowed so low to the little Queen that they almost stood upon their heads.

"This funny tin man," she answered, "killed the Wildcat and saved my life. So hereafter you must all serve him, and obey his slightest wish."

"We will!" cried all the mice, in a shrill chorus. And then they scampered in all directions, for Toto had awakened from his sleep, and seeing all these mice around him he gave one bark of delight and jumped right into the middle of the group. Toto had always loved to chase mice when he lived in Kansas, and he saw no harm in it.

But the Tin Woodman caught the dog in his arms and held him tight, while he called to the mice, "Come back! Come back! Toto shall not hurt you."

At this the Queen of the Mice stuck her head out from underneath a clump of grass and asked, in a timid voice, "Are you sure he will not bite us?"

"I will not let him," said the Woodman; "so do not be afraid."

One by one the mice came creeping back, and Toto did not bark again, although he tried to get out of the Woodman's arms, and would have bitten him had he not known very well he was made of tin. Finally one of the biggest mice spoke.

"Is there anything we can do," it asked, "to repay you for saving the life of our Queen?"

"Nothing that I know of," answered the Woodman; but the Scarecrow, who had been trying to think, but could not because his head was stuffed with straw, said, quickly, "Oh, yes; you can save our friend, the Cowardly Lion, who is asleep in the poppy bed."

"A Lion!" cried the little Queen. "Why, he would eat us all up."

"Oh, no," declared the Scarecrow; "this Lion is a coward."

"Really?" asked the Mouse.

"He says so himself," answered the Scarecrow, "and he would never hurt anyone who is our friend. If you will help us to save him I promise that he shall treat you all with kindness."

"Very well," said the Queen, "we trust you. But what shall we do?"

"Are there many of these mice which call you Queen and are willing to obey you?"

"Oh, yes; there are thousands," she replied.

"Then send for them all to come here as soon as possible, and let each one bring a long piece of string."

The Queen turned to the mice that attended her and told them to go at once and get all her people. As soon as they heard her orders they ran away in every direction as fast as possible.

"Now," said the Scarecrow to the Tin Woodman, "you must go to those trees by the riverside and make a truck that will carry the Lion."

So the Woodman went at once to the trees and began to work; and he soon made a truck out of the limbs of trees, from which he chopped away all the leaves and branches. He fastened it together with wooden pegs and made the four wheels out of short pieces of a big tree trunk. So fast and so well did he work that by the time the mice began to arrive the truck was all ready for them.

They came from all directions, and there were thousands of them: big mice and little mice and middle-sized mice; and each one brought a piece of string in his mouth. It was about this time that Dorothy woke from her long sleep and opened her eyes. She was greatly astonished to find herself lying upon the grass, with thousands of mice standing around and looking at her timidly. But the Scarecrow told her about everything, and turning to the dignified little Mouse, he said:

"Permit me to introduce to you her Majesty, the Queen."

Dorothy nodded gravely and the Queen made a curtsy, after which she became quite friendly with the little girl.

The Scarecrow and the Woodman now began to fasten the mice to the truck, using the strings they had brought. One end of a string was tied around the neck of each mouse and the other end to the truck. Of course the truck was a thousand times bigger than any of the mice who were to draw it; but when all the mice had been harnessed, they were able to pull it quite easily. Even the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman could sit on it, and were drawn swiftly by their queer little horses to the place where the Lion lay asleep.

After a great deal of hard work, for the Lion was heavy, they managed to get him up on the truck. Then the Queen hurriedly gave her people the order to start, for she feared if the mice stayed among the poppies too long they also would fall asleep.

At first the little creatures, many though they were, could hardly stir the heavily loaded truck; but the Woodman and the Scarecrow both pushed from behind, and they got along better. Soon they rolled the Lion out of the poppy bed to the green fields, where he could breathe the sweet, fresh air again, instead of the poisonous scent of the flowers.

Dorothy came to meet them and thanked the little mice warmly for saving her companion from death. She had grown so fond of the big Lion she was glad he had been rescued.

Then the mice were unharnessed from the truck and scampered away through the grass to their homes. The Queen of the Mice was the last to leave.

"If ever you need us again," she said, "come out into the field and call, and we shall hear you and come to your assistance. Good-bye!"

"Good-bye!" they all answered, and away the Queen ran, while Dorothy held Toto tightly lest he should run after her and frighten her.

After this they sat down beside the Lion until he should awaken; and the Scarecrow brought Dorothy some fruit from a tree near by, which she ate for her dinner.

10. The Guardian of the Gate

It was some time before the Cowardly Lion awakened, for he had lain among the poppies a long while, breathing in their deadly fragrance; but when he did open his eyes and roll off the truck he was very glad to find himself still alive.

"I ran as fast as I could," he said, sitting down and yawning, "but the flowers were too strong for me. How did you get me out?"

Then they told him of the field mice, and how they had generously saved him from death; and the Cowardly Lion laughed, and said:

"I have always thought myself very big and terrible; yet such little things as flowers came near to killing me, and such small animals as mice have saved my life. How strange it all is! But, comrades, what shall we do now?"

"We must journey on until we find the road of yellow brick again," said Dorothy, "and then we can keep on to the Emerald City."

So, the Lion being fully refreshed, and feeling quite himself again, they all started upon the journey, greatly enjoying the walk through the soft, fresh grass; and it was not long before they reached the road of yellow brick and turned again toward the Emerald City where the Great Oz dwelt.

The road was smooth and well paved, now, and the country about was beautiful, so that the travelers rejoiced in leaving the forest far behind, and with it the many dangers they had met in its gloomy shades. Once more they could see fences built beside the road; but these were painted green, and when they came to a small house, in which a farmer evidently lived, that also was painted green. They passed by several of these houses during the afternoon, and sometimes people came to the doors and looked at them as if they would like to ask questions; but no one came near them nor spoke to them because of the great Lion, of which they were very much afraid. The people were all dressed in clothing of a lovely emerald-green color and wore peaked hats like those of the Munchkins.

"This must be the Land of Oz," said Dorothy, "and we are surely getting near the Emerald City."

"Yes," answered the Scarecrow. "Everything is green here, while in the country of the Munchkins blue was the favorite color. But the people do not seem to be as friendly as the Munchkins, and I'm afraid we shall be unable to find a place to pass the night."

"I should like something to eat besides fruit," said the girl, "and I'm sure Toto is nearly starved. Let us stop at the next house and talk to the people."

So, when they came to a good-sized farmhouse, Dorothy walked boldly up to the door and knocked.

A woman opened it just far enough to look out, and said, "What do you want, child, and why is that great Lion with you?"

"We wish to pass the night with you, if you will allow us," answered Dorothy; "and the Lion is my friend and comrade, and would not hurt you for the world."

"Is he tame?" asked the woman, opening the door a little wider.

"Oh, yes," said the girl, "and he is a great coward, too. He will be more afraid of you than you are of him."

"Well," said the woman, after thinking it over and taking another peep at the Lion, "if that is the case you may come in, and I will give you some supper and a place to sleep."

So they all entered the house, where there were, besides the woman, two children and a man. The man had hurt his leg, and was lying on the couch in a corner. They seemed greatly surprised to see so strange a company, and while the woman was busy laying the table the man asked:

"Where are you all going?"

"To the Emerald City," said Dorothy, "to see the Great Oz."

"Oh, indeed!" exclaimed the man. "Are you sure that Oz will see you?"

"Why not?" she replied.

"Why, it is said that he never lets anyone come into his presence. I have been to the Emerald City many times, and it is a beautiful and wonderful place; but I have never been permitted to see the Great Oz, nor do I know of any living person who has seen him."

"Does he never go out?" asked the Scarecrow.

"Never. He sits day after day in the great Throne Room of his Palace, and even those who wait upon him do not see him face to face."

"What is he like?" asked the girl.

"That is hard to tell," said the man thoughtfully. "You see, Oz is a Great Wizard, and can take on any form he wishes. So that some say he looks like a bird; and some say he looks like an elephant; and some say he looks like a cat. To others he appears as a beautiful fairy, or a brownie, or in any other form that pleases him. But who the real Oz is, when he is in his own form, no living person can tell."

"That is very strange," said Dorothy, "but we must try, in some way, to see him, or we shall have made our journey for nothing."

"Why do you wish to see the terrible Oz?" asked the man.

"I want him to give me some brains," said the Scarecrow eagerly.

"Oh, Oz could do that easily enough," declared the man. "He has more brains than he needs."

"And I want him to give me a heart," said the Tin Woodman.

"That will not trouble him," continued the man, "for Oz has a large collection of hearts, of all sizes and shapes."

"And I want him to give me courage," said the Cowardly Lion.

"Oz keeps a great pot of courage in his Throne Room," said the man, "which he has covered with a golden plate, to keep it from running over. He will be glad to give you some."

"And I want him to send me back to Kansas," said Dorothy.

"Where is Kansas?" asked the man, with surprise.

"I don't know," replied Dorothy sorrowfully, "but it is my home, and I'm sure it's somewhere."

"Very likely. Well, Oz can do anything; so I suppose he will find Kansas for you. But first you must get to see him, and that will be a hard task; for the Great Wizard does not like to see anyone, and he usually has his own way. But what do YOU want?" he continued, speaking to Toto. Toto only wagged his tail; for, strange to say, he could not speak.

The woman now called to them that supper was ready, so they gathered around the table and Dorothy ate some delicious porridge and a dish of scrambled eggs and a plate of nice white bread, and enjoyed her meal. The Lion ate some of the porridge, but did not care for it, saying it was made from oats and oats were food for horses, not for lions. The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman ate nothing at all. Toto ate a little of everything, and was glad to get a good supper again.

The woman now gave Dorothy a bed to sleep in, and Toto lay down beside her, while the Lion guarded the door of her room so she might not be disturbed. The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman stood up in a corner and kept quiet all night, although of course they could not sleep.

The next morning, as soon as the sun was up, they started on their way, and soon saw a beautiful green glow in the sky just before them.

"That must be the Emerald City," said Dorothy.

As they walked on, the green glow became brighter and brighter, and it seemed that at last they were nearing the end of their travels. Yet it was afternoon before they came to the great wall that surrounded the City. It was high and thick and of a bright green color.

In front of them, and at the end of the road of yellow brick, was a big gate, all studded with emeralds that glittered so in the sun that even the painted eyes of the Scarecrow were dazzled by their brilliancy.

There was a bell beside the gate, and Dorothy pushed the button and heard a silvery tinkle sound within. Then the big gate swung slowly open, and they all passed through and found themselves in a high arched room, the walls of which glistened with countless emeralds.

Before them stood a little man about the same size as the Munchkins. He was clothed all in green, from his head to his feet, and even his skin was of a greenish tint. At his side was a large green box.

When he saw Dorothy and her companions the man asked, "What do you wish in the Emerald City?"

"We came here to see the Great Oz," said Dorothy.

The man was so surprised at this answer that he sat down to think it over.

"It has been many years since anyone asked me to see Oz," he said, shaking his head in perplexity. "He is powerful and terrible, and if you come on an idle or foolish errand to bother the wise reflections of the Great Wizard, he might be angry and destroy you all in an instant."

"But it is not a foolish errand, nor an idle one," replied the Scarecrow; "it is important. And we have been told that Oz is a good Wizard."

"So he is," said the green man, "and he rules the Emerald City wisely and well. But to those who are not honest, or who approach him from curiosity, he is most terrible, and few have ever dared ask to see his face. I am the Guardian of the Gates, and since you demand to see the Great Oz I must take you to his Palace. But first you must put on the spectacles."

"Why?" asked Dorothy.

"Because if you did not wear spectacles the brightness and glory of the Emerald City would blind you. Even those who live in the City must wear spectacles night and day. They are all locked on, for Oz so ordered it when the City was first built, and I have the only key that will unlock them."

He opened the big box, and Dorothy saw that it was filled with spectacles of every size and shape. All of them had green glasses in them. The Guardian of the Gates found a pair that would just fit Dorothy and put them over her eyes. There were two golden bands fastened to them that passed around the back of her head, where they were locked together by a little key that was at the end of a chain the Guardian of the Gates wore around his neck. When they were on, Dorothy could not take them off had she wished, but of course she did not wish to be blinded by the glare of the Emerald City, so she said nothing.

Then the green man fitted spectacles for the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman and the Lion, and even on little Toto; and all were locked fast with the key.

Then the Guardian of the Gates put on his own glasses and told them he was ready to show them to the Palace. Taking a big golden key from a peg on the wall, he opened another gate, and they all followed him through the portal into the streets of the Emerald City.

11. The Wonderful City of Oz

Even with eyes protected by the green spectacles, Dorothy and her friends were at first dazzled by the brilliancy of the wonderful City. The streets were lined with beautiful houses all built of green marble and studded everywhere with sparkling emeralds. They walked over a pavement of the same green marble, and where the blocks were joined together were rows of emeralds, set closely, and glittering in the brightness of the sun. The window panes were of green glass; even the sky above the City had a green tint, and the rays of the sun were green.

There were many people--men, women, and children--walking about, and these were all dressed in green clothes and had greenish skins. They looked at Dorothy and her strangely assorted company with wondering eyes, and the children all ran away and hid behind their mothers when they saw the Lion; but no one spoke to them. Many shops stood in the street, and Dorothy saw that everything in them was green. Green candy and green pop corn were offered for sale, as well as green shoes, green hats, and green clothes of all sorts. At one place a man was selling green lemonade, and when the children bought it Dorothy could see that they paid for it with green pennies.

There seemed to be no horses nor animals of any kind; the men carried things around in little green carts, which they pushed before them. Everyone seemed happy and contented and prosperous.

The Guardian of the Gates led them through the streets until they came to a big building, exactly in the middle of the City, which was the Palace of Oz, the Great Wizard. There was a soldier before the door, dressed in a green uniform and wearing a long green beard.

"Here are strangers," said the Guardian of the Gates to him, "and they demand to see the Great Oz."

"Step inside," answered the soldier, "and I will carry your message to him."

So they passed through the Palace Gates and were led into a big room with a green carpet and lovely green furniture set with emeralds. The soldier made them all wipe their feet upon a green mat before entering this room, and when they were seated he said politely:

"Please make yourselves comfortable while I go to the door of the Throne Room and tell Oz you are here."

They had to wait a long time before the soldier returned. When, at last, he came back, Dorothy asked:

"Have you seen Oz?"

"Oh, no," returned the soldier; "I have never seen him. But I spoke to him as he sat behind his screen and gave him your message. He said he will grant you an audience, if you so desire; but each one of you must enter his presence alone, and he will admit but one each day. Therefore, as you must remain in the Palace for several days, I will have you shown to rooms where you may rest in comfort after your journey."

"Thank you," replied the girl; "that is very kind of Oz."

The soldier now blew upon a green whistle, and at once a young girl, dressed in a pretty green silk gown, entered the room. She had lovely green hair and green eyes, and she bowed low before Dorothy as she said, "Follow me and I will show you your room."

So Dorothy said good-bye to all her friends except Toto, and taking the dog in her arms followed the green girl through seven passages and up three flights of stairs until they came to a room at the front of the Palace. It was the sweetest little room in the world, with a soft comfortable bed that had sheets of green silk and a green velvet counterpane. There was a tiny fountain in the middle of the room, that shot a spray of green perfume into the air, to fall back into a beautifully carved green marble basin. Beautiful green flowers stood in the windows, and there was a shelf with a row of little green books. When Dorothy had time to open these books she found them full of queer green pictures that made her laugh, they were so funny.

In a wardrobe were many green dresses, made of silk and satin and velvet; and all of them fitted Dorothy exactly.

"Make yourself perfectly at home," said the green girl, "and if you wish for anything ring the bell. Oz will send for you tomorrow morning."

She left Dorothy alone and went back to the others. These she also led to rooms, and each one of them found himself lodged in a very pleasant part of the Palace. Of course this politeness was wasted on the Scarecrow; for when he found himself alone in his room he stood stupidly in one spot, just within the doorway, to wait till morning. It would not rest him to lie down, and he could not close his eyes; so he remained all night staring at a little spider which was weaving its web in a corner of the room, just as if it were not one of the most wonderful rooms in the world. The Tin Woodman lay down on his bed from force of habit, for he remembered when he was made of flesh; but not being able to sleep, he passed the night moving his joints up and down to make sure they kept in good working order. The Lion would have preferred a bed of dried leaves in the forest, and did not like being shut up in a room; but he had too much sense to let this worry him, so he sprang upon the bed and rolled himself up like a cat and purred himself asleep in a minute.

The next morning, after breakfast, the green maiden came to fetch Dorothy, and she dressed her in one of the prettiest gowns, made of green brocaded satin. Dorothy put on a green silk apron and tied a green ribbon around Toto's neck, and they started for the Throne Room of the Great Oz.

First they came to a great hall in which were many ladies and gentlemen of the court, all dressed in rich costumes. These people had nothing to do but talk to each other, but they always came to wait outside the Throne Room every morning, although they were never permitted to see Oz. As Dorothy entered they looked at her curiously, and one of them whispered:

"Are you really going to look upon the face of Oz the Terrible?"

"Of course," answered the girl, "if he will see me."

"Oh, he will see you," said the soldier who had taken her message to the Wizard, "although he does not like to have people ask to see him. Indeed, at first he was angry and said I should send you back where you came from. Then he asked me what you looked like, and when I mentioned your silver shoes he was very much interested. At last I told him about the mark upon your forehead, and he decided he would admit you to his presence."

Just then a bell rang, and the green girl said to Dorothy, "That is the signal. You must go into the Throne Room alone."

She opened a little door and Dorothy walked boldly through and found herself in a wonderful place. It was a big, round room with a high arched roof, and the walls and ceiling and floor were covered with large emeralds set closely together. In the center of the roof was a great light, as bright as the sun, which made the emeralds sparkle in a wonderful manner.

But what interested Dorothy most was the big throne of green marble that stood in the middle of the room. It was shaped like a chair and sparkled with gems, as did everything else. In the center of the chair was an enormous Head, without a body to support it or any arms or legs whatever. There was no hair upon this head, but it had eyes and a nose and mouth, and was much bigger than the head of the biggest giant.

As Dorothy gazed upon this in wonder and fear, the eyes turned slowly and looked at her sharply and steadily. Then the mouth moved, and Dorothy heard a voice say:

"I am Oz, the Great and Terrible. Who are you, and why do you seek me?"

It was not such an awful voice as she had expected to come from the big Head; so she took courage and answered:

"I am Dorothy, the Small and Meek. I have come to you for help."

The eyes looked at her thoughtfully for a full minute. Then said the voice:

"Where did you get the silver shoes?"

"I got them from the Wicked Witch of the East, when my house fell on her and killed her," she replied.

"Where did you get the mark upon your forehead?" continued the voice.

"That is where the Good Witch of the North kissed me when she bade me good-bye and sent me to you," said the girl.

Again the eyes looked at her sharply, and they saw she was telling the truth. Then Oz asked, "What do you wish me to do?"

"Send me back to Kansas, where my Aunt Em and Uncle Henry are," she answered earnestly. "I don't like your country, although it is so beautiful. And I am sure Aunt Em will be dreadfully worried over my being away so long."

The eyes winked three times, and then they turned up to the ceiling and down to the floor and rolled around so queerly that they seemed to see every part of the room. And at last they looked at Dorothy again.

"Why should I do this for you?" asked Oz.

"Because you are strong and I am weak; because you are a Great Wizard and I am only a little girl."

"But you were strong enough to kill the Wicked Witch of the East," said Oz.

"That just happened," returned Dorothy simply; "I could not help it."

"Well," said the Head, "I will give you my answer. You have no right to expect me to send you back to Kansas unless you do something for me in return. In this country everyone must pay for everything he gets. If you wish me to use my magic power to send you home again you must do something for me first. Help me and I will help you."

"What must I do?" asked the girl.

"Kill the Wicked Witch of the West," answered Oz.

"But I cannot!" exclaimed Dorothy, greatly surprised.

"You killed the Witch of the East and you wear the silver shoes, which bear a powerful charm. There is now but one Wicked Witch left in all this land, and when you can tell me she is dead I will send you back to Kansas--but not before."

The little girl began to weep, she was so much disappointed; and the eyes winked again and looked upon her anxiously, as if the Great Oz felt that she could help him if she would.

"I never killed anything, willingly," she sobbed. "Even if I wanted to, how could I kill the Wicked Witch? If you, who are Great and Terrible, cannot kill her yourself, how do you expect me to do it?"

"I do not know," said the Head; "but that is my answer, and until the Wicked Witch dies you will not see your uncle and aunt again. Remember that the Witch is Wicked--tremendously Wicked--and ought to be killed. Now go, and do not ask to see me again until you have done your task."

Sorrowfully Dorothy left the Throne Room and went back where the Lion and the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman were waiting to hear what Oz had said to her. "There is no hope for me," she said sadly, "for Oz will not send me home until I have killed the Wicked Witch of the West; and that I can never do."

Her friends were sorry, but could do nothing to help her; so Dorothy went to her own room and lay down on the bed and cried herself to sleep.

The next morning the soldier with the green whiskers came to the Scarecrow and said:

"Come with me, for Oz has sent for you."

So the Scarecrow followed him and was admitted into the great Throne Room, where he saw, sitting in the emerald throne, a most lovely Lady. She was dressed in green silk gauze and wore upon her flowing green locks a crown of jewels. Growing from her shoulders were wings, gorgeous in color and so light that they fluttered if the slightest breath of air reached them.

When the Scarecrow had bowed, as prettily as his straw stuffing would let him, before this beautiful creature, she looked upon him sweetly, and said:

"I am Oz, the Great and Terrible. Who are you, and why do you seek me?"

Now the Scarecrow, who had expected to see the great Head Dorothy had told him of, was much astonished; but he answered her bravely.

"I am only a Scarecrow, stuffed with straw. Therefore I have no brains, and I come to you praying that you will put brains in my head instead of straw, so that I may become as much a man as any other in your dominions."

"Why should I do this for you?" asked the Lady.

"Because you are wise and powerful, and no one else can help me," answered the Scarecrow.

"I never grant favors without some return," said Oz; "but this much I will promise. If you will kill for me the Wicked Witch of the West, I will bestow upon you a great many brains, and such good brains that you will be the wisest man in all the Land of Oz."

"I thought you asked Dorothy to kill the Witch," said the Scarecrow, in surprise.

"So I did. I don't care who kills her. But until she is dead I will not grant your wish. Now go, and do not seek me again until you have earned the brains you so greatly desire."

The Scarecrow went sorrowfully back to his friends and told them what Oz had said; and Dorothy was surprised to find that the Great Wizard was not a Head, as she had seen him, but a lovely Lady.

"All the same," said the Scarecrow, "she needs a heart as much as the Tin Woodman."

On the next morning the soldier with the green whiskers came to the Tin Woodman and said:

"Oz has sent for you. Follow me."

So the Tin Woodman followed him and came to the great Throne Room. He did not know whether he would find Oz a lovely Lady or a Head, but he hoped it would be the lovely Lady. "For," he said to himself, "if it is the head, I am sure I shall not be given a heart, since a head has no heart of its own and therefore cannot feel for me. But if it is the lovely Lady I shall beg hard for a heart, for all ladies are themselves said to be kindly hearted."

But when the Woodman entered the great Throne Room he saw neither the Head nor the Lady, for Oz had taken the shape of a most terrible Beast. It was nearly as big as an elephant, and the green throne seemed hardly strong enough to hold its weight. The Beast had a head like that of a rhinoceros, only there were five eyes in its face. There were five long arms growing out of its body, and it also had five long, slim legs. Thick, woolly hair covered every part of it, and a more dreadful-looking monster could not be imagined. It was fortunate the Tin Woodman had no heart at that moment, for it would have beat loud and fast from terror. But being only tin, the Woodman was not at all afraid, although he was much disappointed.

"I am Oz, the Great and Terrible," spoke the Beast, in a voice that was one great roar. "Who are you, and why do you seek me?"

"I am a Woodman, and made of tin. Therefore I have no heart, and cannot love. I pray you to give me a heart that I may be as other men are."

"Why should I do this?" demanded the Beast.

"Because I ask it, and you alone can grant my request," answered the Woodman.

Oz gave a low growl at this, but said, gruffly: "If you indeed desire a heart, you must earn it."

"How?" asked the Woodman.

"Help Dorothy to kill the Wicked Witch of the West," replied the Beast. "When the Witch is dead, come to me, and I will then give you the biggest and kindest and most loving heart in all the Land of Oz."

So the Tin Woodman was forced to return sorrowfully to his friends and tell them of the terrible Beast he had seen. They all wondered greatly at the many forms the Great Wizard could take upon himself, and the Lion said:

"If he is a Beast when I go to see him, I shall roar my loudest, and so frighten him that he will grant all I ask. And if he is the lovely Lady, I shall pretend to spring upon her, and so compel her to do my bidding. And if he is the great Head, he will be at my mercy; for I will roll this head all about the room until he promises to give us what we desire. So be of good cheer, my friends, for all will yet be well."

The next morning the soldier with the green whiskers led the Lion to the great Throne Room and bade him enter the presence of Oz.

The Lion at once passed through the door, and glancing around saw, to his surprise, that before the throne was a Ball of Fire, so fierce and glowing he could scarcely bear to gaze upon it. His first thought was that Oz had by accident caught on fire and was burning up; but when he tried to go nearer, the heat was so intense that it singed his whiskers, and he crept back tremblingly to a spot nearer the door.

Then a low, quiet voice came from the Ball of Fire, and these were the words it spoke:

"I am Oz, the Great and Terrible. Who are you, and why do you seek me?"

And the Lion answered, "I am a Cowardly Lion, afraid of everything. I came to you to beg that you give me courage, so that in reality I may become the King of Beasts, as men call me."

"Why should I give you courage?" demanded Oz.

"Because of all Wizards you are the greatest, and alone have power to grant my request," answered the Lion.

The Ball of Fire burned fiercely for a time, and the voice said, "Bring me proof that the Wicked Witch is dead, and that moment I will give you courage. But as long as the Witch lives, you must remain a coward."

The Lion was angry at this speech, but could say nothing in reply, and while he stood silently gazing at the Ball of Fire it became so furiously hot that he turned tail and rushed from the room. He was glad to find his friends waiting for him, and told them of his terrible interview with the Wizard.

"What shall we do now?" asked Dorothy sadly.

"There is only one thing we can do," returned the Lion, "and that is to go to the land of the Winkies, seek out the Wicked Witch, and destroy her."

"But suppose we cannot?" said the girl.

"Then I shall never have courage," declared the Lion.

"And I shall never have brains," added the Scarecrow.

"And I shall never have a heart," spoke the Tin Woodman.

"And I shall never see Aunt Em and Uncle Henry," said Dorothy, beginning to cry.

"Be careful!" cried the green girl. "The tears will fall on your green silk gown and spot it."

So Dorothy dried her eyes and said, "I suppose we must try it; but I am sure I do not want to kill anybody, even to see Aunt Em again."

"I will go with you; but I'm too much of a coward to kill the Witch," said the Lion.

"I will go too," declared the Scarecrow; "but I shall not be of much help to you, I am such a fool."

"I haven't the heart to harm even a Witch," remarked the Tin Woodman; "but if you go I certainly shall go with you."

Therefore it was decided to start upon their journey the next morning, and the Woodman sharpened his axe on a green grindstone and had all his joints properly oiled. The Scarecrow stuffed himself with fresh straw and Dorothy put new paint on his eyes that he might see better. The green girl, who was very kind to them, filled Dorothy's basket with good things to eat, and fastened a little bell around Toto's neck with a green ribbon.

They went to bed quite early and slept soundly until daylight, when they were awakened by the crowing of a green cock that lived in the back yard of the Palace, and the cackling of a hen that had laid a green egg.

12. The Search for the Wicked Witch

The soldier with the green whiskers led them through the streets of the Emerald City until they reached the room where the Guardian of the Gates lived. This officer unlocked their spectacles to put them back in his great box, and then he politely opened the gate for our friends.

"Which road leads to the Wicked Witch of the West?" asked Dorothy.

"There is no road," answered the Guardian of the Gates. "No one ever wishes to go that way."

"How, then, are we to find her?" inquired the girl.

"That will be easy," replied the man, "for when she knows you are in the country of the Winkies she will find you, and make you all her slaves."

"Perhaps not," said the Scarecrow, "for we mean to destroy her."

"Oh, that is different," said the Guardian of the Gates. "No one has ever destroyed her before, so I naturally thought she would make slaves of you, as she has of the rest. But take care; for she is wicked and fierce, and may not allow you to destroy her. Keep to the West, where the sun sets, and you cannot fail to find her."

They thanked him and bade him good-bye, and turned toward the West, walking over fields of soft grass dotted here and there with daisies and buttercups. Dorothy still wore the pretty silk dress she had put on in the palace, but now, to her surprise, she found it was no longer green, but pure white. The ribbon around Toto's neck had also lost its green color and was as white as Dorothy's dress.

The Emerald City was soon left far behind. As they advanced the ground became rougher and hillier, for there were no farms nor houses in this country of the West, and the ground was untilled.

In the afternoon the sun shone hot in their faces, for there were no trees to offer them shade; so that before night Dorothy and Toto and the Lion were tired, and lay down upon the grass and fell asleep, with the Woodman and the Scarecrow keeping watch.

Now the Wicked Witch of the West had but one eye, yet that was as powerful as a telescope, and could see everywhere. So, as she sat in the door of her castle, she happened to look around and saw Dorothy lying asleep, with her friends all about her. They were a long distance off, but the Wicked Witch was angry to find them in her country; so she blew upon a silver whistle that hung around her neck.

At once there came running to her from all directions a pack of great wolves. They had long legs and fierce eyes and sharp teeth.

"Go to those people," said the Witch, "and tear them to pieces."

"Are you not going to make them your slaves?" asked the leader of the wolves.

"No," she answered, "one is of tin, and one of straw; one is a girl and another a Lion. None of them is fit to work, so you may tear them into small pieces."

"Very well," said the wolf, and he dashed away at full speed, followed by the others.

It was lucky the Scarecrow and the Woodman were wide awake and heard the wolves coming.

"This is my fight," said the Woodman, "so get behind me and I will meet them as they come."

He seized his axe, which he had made very sharp, and as the leader of the wolves came on the Tin Woodman swung his arm and chopped the wolf's head from its body, so that it immediately died. As soon as he could raise his axe another wolf came up, and he also fell under the sharp edge of the Tin Woodman's weapon. There were forty wolves, and forty times a wolf was killed, so that at last they all lay dead in a heap before the Woodman.

Then he put down his axe and sat beside the Scarecrow, who said, "It was a good fight, friend."

They waited until Dorothy awoke the next morning. The little girl was quite frightened when she saw the great pile of shaggy wolves, but the Tin Woodman told her all. She thanked him for saving them and sat down to breakfast, after which they started again upon their journey.

Now this same morning the Wicked Witch came to the door of her castle and looked out with her one eye that could see far off. She saw all her wolves lying dead, and the strangers still traveling through her country. This made her angrier than before, and she blew her silver whistle twice.

Straightway a great flock of wild crows came flying toward her, enough to darken the sky.

And the Wicked Witch said to the King Crow, "Fly at once to the strangers; peck out their eyes and tear them to pieces."

The wild crows flew in one great flock toward Dorothy and her companions. When the little girl saw them coming she was afraid.

But the Scarecrow said, "This is my battle, so lie down beside me and you will not be harmed."

So they all lay upon the ground except the Scarecrow, and he stood up and stretched out his arms. And when the crows saw him they were frightened, as these birds always are by scarecrows, and did not dare to come any nearer. But the King Crow said:

"It is only a stuffed man. I will peck his eyes out."

The King Crow flew at the Scarecrow, who caught it by the head and twisted its neck until it died. And then another crow flew at him, and the Scarecrow twisted its neck also. There were forty crows, and forty times the Scarecrow twisted a neck, until at last all were lying dead beside him. Then he called to his companions to rise, and again they went upon their journey.

When the Wicked Witch looked out again and saw all her crows lying in a heap, she got into a terrible rage, and blew three times upon her silver whistle.

Forthwith there was heard a great buzzing in the air, and a swarm of black bees came flying toward her.

"Go to the strangers and sting them to death!" commanded the Witch, and the bees turned and flew rapidly until they came to where Dorothy and her friends were walking. But the Woodman had seen them coming, and the Scarecrow had decided what to do.

"Take out my straw and scatter it over the little girl and the dog and the Lion," he said to the Woodman, "and the bees cannot sting them." This the Woodman did, and as Dorothy lay close beside the Lion and held Toto in her arms, the straw covered them entirely.

The bees came and found no one but the Woodman to sting, so they flew at him and broke off all their stings against the tin, without hurting the Woodman at all. And as bees cannot live when their stings are broken that was the end of the black bees, and they lay scattered thick about the Woodman, like little heaps of fine coal.

Then Dorothy and the Lion got up, and the girl helped the Tin Woodman put the straw back into the Scarecrow again, until he was as good as ever. So they started upon their journey once more.

The Wicked Witch was so angry when she saw her black bees in little heaps like fine coal that she stamped her foot and tore her hair and gnashed her teeth. And then she called a dozen of her slaves, who were the Winkies, and gave them sharp spears, telling them to go to the strangers and destroy them.

The Winkies were not a brave people, but they had to do as they were told. So they marched away until they came near to Dorothy. Then the Lion gave a great roar and sprang towards them, and the poor Winkies were so frightened that they ran back as fast as they could.

When they returned to the castle the Wicked Witch beat them well with a strap, and sent them back to their work, after which she sat down to think what she should do next. She could not understand how all her plans to destroy these strangers had failed; but she was a powerful Witch, as well as a wicked one, and she soon made up her mind how to act.

There was, in her cupboard, a Golden Cap, with a circle of diamonds and rubies running round it. This Golden Cap had a charm. Whoever owned it could call three times upon the Winged Monkeys, who would obey any order they were given. But no person could command these strange creatures more than three times. Twice already the Wicked Witch had used the charm of the Cap. Once was when she had made the Winkies her slaves, and set herself to rule over their country. The Winged Monkeys had helped her do this. The second time was when she had fought against the Great Oz himself, and driven him out of the land of the West. The Winged Monkeys had also helped her in doing this. Only once more could she use this Golden Cap, for which reason she did not like to do so until all her other powers were exhausted. But now that her fierce wolves and her wild crows and her stinging bees were gone, and her slaves had been scared away by the Cowardly Lion, she saw there was only one way left to destroy Dorothy and her friends.

So the Wicked Witch took the Golden Cap from her cupboard and placed it upon her head. Then she stood upon her left foot and said slowly:

"Ep-pe, pep-pe, kak-ke!"

Next she stood upon her right foot and said:

"Hil-lo, hol-lo, hel-lo!"

After this she stood upon both feet and cried in a loud voice:

"Ziz-zy, zuz-zy, zik!"

Now the charm began to work. The sky was darkened, and a low rumbling sound was heard in the air. There was a rushing of many wings, a great chattering and laughing, and the sun came out of the dark sky to show the Wicked Witch surrounded by a crowd of monkeys, each with a pair of immense and powerful wings on his shoulders.

One, much bigger than the others, seemed to be their leader. He flew close to the Witch and said, "You have called us for the third and last time. What do you command?"

"Go to the strangers who are within my land and destroy them all except the Lion," said the Wicked Witch. "Bring that beast to me, for I have a mind to harness him like a horse, and make him work."

"Your commands shall be obeyed," said the leader. Then, with a great deal of chattering and noise, the Winged Monkeys flew away to the place where Dorothy and her friends were walking.

Some of the Monkeys seized the Tin Woodman and carried him through the air until they were over a country thickly covered with sharp rocks. Here they dropped the poor Woodman, who fell a great distance to the rocks, where he lay so battered and dented that he could neither move nor groan.

Others of the Monkeys caught the Scarecrow, and with their long fingers pulled all of the straw out of his clothes and head. They made his hat and boots and clothes into a small bundle and threw it into the top branches of a tall tree.

The remaining Monkeys threw pieces of stout rope around the Lion and wound many coils about his body and head and legs, until he was unable to bite or scratch or struggle in any way. Then they lifted him up and flew away with him to the Witch's castle, where he was placed in a small yard with a high iron fence around it, so that he could not escape.

But Dorothy they did not harm at all. She stood, with Toto in her arms, watching the sad fate of her comrades and thinking it would soon be her turn. The leader of the Winged Monkeys flew up to her, his long, hairy arms stretched out and his ugly face grinning terribly; but he saw the mark of the Good Witch's kiss upon her forehead and stopped short, motioning the others not to touch her.

"We dare not harm this little girl," he said to them, "for she is protected by the Power of Good, and that is greater than the Power of Evil. All we can do is to carry her to the castle of the Wicked Witch and leave her there."

So, carefully and gently, they lifted Dorothy in their arms and carried her swiftly through the air until they came to the castle, where they set her down upon the front doorstep. Then the leader said to the Witch:

"We have obeyed you as far as we were able. The Tin Woodman and the Scarecrow are destroyed, and the Lion is tied up in your yard. The little girl we dare not harm, nor the dog she carries in her arms. Your power over our band is now ended, and you will never see us again."

Then all the Winged Monkeys, with much laughing and chattering and noise, flew into the air and were soon out of sight.

The Wicked Witch was both surprised and worried when she saw the mark on Dorothy's forehead, for she knew well that neither the Winged Monkeys nor she, herself, dare hurt the girl in any way. She looked down at Dorothy's feet, and seeing the Silver Shoes, began to tremble with fear, for she knew what a powerful charm belonged to them. At first the Witch was tempted to run away from Dorothy; but she happened to look into the child's eyes and saw how simple the soul behind them was, and that the little girl did not know of the wonderful power the Silver Shoes gave her. So the Wicked Witch laughed to herself, and thought, "I can still make her my slave, for she does not know how to use her power." Then she said to Dorothy, harshly and severely:

"Come with me; and see that you mind everything I tell you, for if you do not I will make an end of you, as I did of the Tin Woodman and the Scarecrow."

Dorothy followed her through many of the beautiful rooms in her castle until they came to the kitchen, where the Witch bade her clean the pots and kettles and sweep the floor and keep the fire fed with wood.

Dorothy went to work meekly, with her mind made up to work as hard as she could; for she was glad the Wicked Witch had decided not to kill her.

With Dorothy hard at work, the Witch thought she would go into the courtyard and harness the Cowardly Lion like a horse; it would amuse her, she was sure, to make him draw her chariot whenever she wished to go to drive. But as she opened the gate the Lion gave a loud roar and bounded at her so fiercely that the Witch was afraid, and ran out and shut the gate again.

"If I cannot harness you," said the Witch to the Lion, speaking through the bars of the gate, "I can starve you. You shall have nothing to eat until you do as I wish."

So after that she took no food to the imprisoned Lion; but every day she came to the gate at noon and asked, "Are you ready to be harnessed like a horse?"

And the Lion would answer, "No. If you come in this yard, I will bite you."

The reason the Lion did not have to do as the Witch wished was that every night, while the woman was asleep, Dorothy carried him food from the cupboard. After he had eaten he would lie down on his bed of straw, and Dorothy would lie beside him and put her head on his soft, shaggy mane, while they talked of their troubles and tried to plan some way to escape. But they could find no way to get out of the castle, for it was constantly guarded by the yellow Winkies, who were the slaves of the Wicked Witch and too afraid of her not to do as she told them.

The girl had to work hard during the day, and often the Witch threatened to beat her with the same old umbrella she always carried in her hand. But, in truth, she did not dare to strike Dorothy, because of the mark upon her forehead. The child did not know this, and was full of fear for herself and Toto. Once the Witch struck Toto a blow with her umbrella and the brave little dog flew at her and bit her leg in return. The Witch did not bleed where she was bitten, for she was so wicked that the blood in her had dried up many years before.

Dorothy's life became very sad as she grew to understand that it would be harder than ever to get back to Kansas and Aunt Em again. Sometimes she would cry bitterly for hours, with Toto sitting at her feet and looking into her face, whining dismally to show how sorry he was for his little mistress. Toto did not really care whether he was in Kansas or the Land of Oz so long as Dorothy was with him; but he knew the little girl was unhappy, and that made him unhappy too.

Now the Wicked Witch had a great longing to have for her own the Silver Shoes which the girl always wore. Her bees and her crows and her wolves were lying in heaps and drying up, and she had used up all the power of the Golden Cap; but if she could only get hold of the Silver Shoes, they would give her more power than all the other things she had lost. She watched Dorothy carefully, to see if she ever took off her shoes, thinking she might steal them. But the child was so proud of her pretty shoes that she never took them off except at night and when she took her bath. The Witch was too much afraid of the dark to dare go in Dorothy's room at night to take the shoes, and her dread of water was greater than her fear of the dark, so she never came near when Dorothy was bathing. Indeed, the old Witch never touched water, nor ever let water touch her in any way.

But the wicked creature was very cunning, and she finally thought of a trick that would give her what she wanted. She placed a bar of iron in the middle of the kitchen floor, and then by her magic arts made the iron invisible to human eyes. So that when Dorothy walked across the floor she stumbled over the bar, not being able to see it, and fell at full length. She was not much hurt, but in her fall one of the Silver Shoes came off; and before she could reach it, the Witch had snatched it away and put it on her own skinny foot.

The wicked woman was greatly pleased with the success of her trick, for as long as she had one of the shoes she owned half the power of their charm, and Dorothy could not use it against her, even had she known how to do so.

The little girl, seeing she had lost one of her pretty shoes, grew angry, and said to the Witch, "Give me back my shoe!"

"I will not," retorted the Witch, "for it is now my shoe, and not yours."

"You are a wicked creature!" cried Dorothy. "You have no right to take my shoe from me."

"I shall keep it, just the same," said the Witch, laughing at her, "and someday I shall get the other one from you, too."

This made Dorothy so very angry that she picked up the bucket of water that stood near and dashed it over the Witch, wetting her from head to foot.

Instantly the wicked woman gave a loud cry of fear, and then, as Dorothy looked at her in wonder, the Witch began to shrink and fall away.

"See what you have done!" she screamed. "In a minute I shall melt away."

"I'm very sorry, indeed," said Dorothy, who was truly frightened to see the Witch actually melting away like brown sugar before her very eyes.

"Didn't you know water would be the end of me?" asked the Witch, in a wailing, despairing voice.

"Of course not," answered Dorothy. "How should I?"

"Well, in a few minutes I shall be all melted, and you will have the castle to yourself. I have been wicked in my day, but I never thought a little girl like you would ever be able to melt me and end my wicked deeds. Look out--here I go!"

With these words the Witch fell down in a brown, melted, shapeless mass and began to spread over the clean boards of the kitchen floor. Seeing that she had really melted away to nothing, Dorothy drew another bucket of water and threw it over the mess. She then swept it all out the door. After picking out the silver shoe, which was all that was left of the old woman, she cleaned and dried it with a cloth, and put it on her foot again. Then, being at last free to do as she chose, she ran out to the courtyard to tell the Lion that the Wicked Witch of the West had come to an end, and that they were no longer prisoners in a strange land.

13. The Rescue

The Cowardly Lion was much pleased to hear that the Wicked Witch had been melted by a bucket of water, and Dorothy at once unlocked the gate of his prison and set him free. They went in together to the castle, where Dorothy's first act was to call all the Winkies together and tell them that they were no longer slaves.

There was great rejoicing among the yellow Winkies, for they had been made to work hard during many years for the Wicked Witch, who had always treated them with great cruelty. They kept this day as a holiday, then and ever after, and spent the time in feasting and dancing.

"If our friends, the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, were only with us," said the Lion, "I should be quite happy."

"Don't you suppose we could rescue them?" asked the girl anxiously.

"We can try," answered the Lion.

So they called the yellow Winkies and asked them if they would help to rescue their friends, and the Winkies said that they would be delighted to do all in their power for Dorothy, who had set them free from bondage. So she chose a number of the Winkies who looked as if they knew the most, and they all started away. They traveled that day and part of the next until they came to the rocky plain where the Tin Woodman lay, all battered and bent. His axe was near him, but the blade was rusted and the handle broken off short.

The Winkies lifted him tenderly in their arms, and carried him back to the Yellow Castle again, Dorothy shedding a few tears by the way at the sad plight of her old friend, and the Lion looking sober and sorry. When they reached the castle Dorothy said to the Winkies:

"Are any of your people tinsmiths?"

"Oh, yes. Some of us are very good tinsmiths," they told her.

"Then bring them to me," she said. And when the tinsmiths came, bringing with them all their tools in baskets, she inquired, "Can you straighten out those dents in the Tin Woodman, and bend him back into shape again, and solder him together where he is broken?"

The tinsmiths looked the Woodman over carefully and then answered that they thought they could mend him so he would be as good as ever. So they set to work in one of the big yellow rooms of the castle and worked for three days and four nights, hammering and twisting and bending and soldering and polishing and pounding at the legs and body and head of the Tin Woodman, until at last he was straightened out into his old form, and his joints worked as well as ever. To be sure, there were several patches on him, but the tinsmiths did a good job, and as the Woodman was not a vain man he did not mind the patches at all.

When, at last, he walked into Dorothy's room and thanked her for rescuing him, he was so pleased that he wept tears of joy, and Dorothy had to wipe every tear carefully from his face with her apron, so his joints would not be rusted. At the same time her own tears fell thick and fast at the joy of meeting her old friend again, and these tears did not need to be wiped away. As for the Lion, he wiped his eyes so often with the tip of his tail that it became quite wet, and he was obliged to go out into the courtyard and hold it in the sun till it dried.

"If we only had the Scarecrow with us again," said the Tin Woodman, when Dorothy had finished telling him everything that had happened, "I should be quite happy."

"We must try to find him," said the girl.

So she called the Winkies to help her, and they walked all that day and part of the next until they came to the tall tree in the branches of which the Winged Monkeys had tossed the Scarecrow's clothes.

It was a very tall tree, and the trunk was so smooth that no one could climb it; but the Woodman said at once, "I'll chop it down, and then we can get the Scarecrow's clothes."

Now while the tinsmiths had been at work mending the Woodman himself, another of the Winkies, who was a goldsmith, had made an axe-handle of solid gold and fitted it to the Woodman's axe, instead of the old broken handle. Others polished the blade until all the rust was removed and it glistened like burnished silver.

As soon as he had spoken, the Tin Woodman began to chop, and in a short time the tree fell over with a crash, whereupon the Scarecrow's clothes fell out of the branches and rolled off on the ground.

Dorothy picked them up and had the Winkies carry them back to the castle, where they were stuffed with nice, clean straw; and behold! here was the Scarecrow, as good as ever, thanking them over and over again for saving him.

Now that they were reunited, Dorothy and her friends spent a few happy days at the Yellow Castle, where they found everything they needed to make them comfortable.

But one day the girl thought of Aunt Em, and said, "We must go back to Oz, and claim his promise."

"Yes," said the Woodman, "at last I shall get my heart."

"And I shall get my brains," added the Scarecrow joyfully.

"And I shall get my courage," said the Lion thoughtfully.

"And I shall get back to Kansas," cried Dorothy, clapping her hands. "Oh, let us start for the Emerald City tomorrow!"

This they decided to do. The next day they called the Winkies together and bade them good-bye. The Winkies were sorry to have them go, and they had grown so fond of the Tin Woodman that they begged him to stay and rule over them and the Yellow Land of the West. Finding they were determined to go, the Winkies gave Toto and the Lion each a golden collar; and to Dorothy they presented a beautiful bracelet studded with diamonds; and to the Scarecrow they gave a gold-headed walking stick, to keep him from stumbling; and to the Tin Woodman they offered a silver oil-can, inlaid with gold and set with precious jewels.

Every one of the travelers made the Winkies a pretty speech in return, and all shook hands with them until their arms ached.

Dorothy went to the Witch's cupboard to fill her basket with food for the journey, and there she saw the Golden Cap. She tried it on her own head and found that it fitted her exactly. She did not know anything about the charm of the Golden Cap, but she saw that it was pretty, so she made up her mind to wear it and carry her sunbonnet in the basket.

Then, being prepared for the journey, they all started for the Emerald City; and the Winkies gave them three cheers and many good wishes to carry with them.

14. The Winged Monkeys

You will remember there was no road--not even a pathway--between the castle of the Wicked Witch and the Emerald City. When the four travelers went in search of the Witch she had seen them coming, and so sent the Winged Monkeys to bring them to her. It was much harder to find their way back through the big fields of buttercups and yellow daisies than it was being carried. They knew, of course, they must go straight east, toward the rising sun; and they started off in the right way. But at noon, when the sun was over their heads, they did not know which was east and which was west, and that was the reason they were lost in the great fields. They kept on walking, however, and at night the moon came out and shone brightly. So they lay down among the sweet smelling yellow flowers and slept soundly until morning--all but the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman.

The next morning the sun was behind a cloud, but they started on, as if they were quite sure which way they were going.

"If we walk far enough," said Dorothy, "I am sure we shall sometime come to some place."

But day by day passed away, and they still saw nothing before them but the scarlet fields. The Scarecrow began to grumble a bit.

"We have surely lost our way," he said, "and unless we find it again in time to reach the Emerald City, I shall never get my brains."

"Nor I my heart," declared the Tin Woodman. "It seems to me I can scarcely wait till I get to Oz, and you must admit this is a very long journey."

"You see," said the Cowardly Lion, with a whimper, "I haven't the courage to keep tramping forever, without getting anywhere at all."

Then Dorothy lost heart. She sat down on the grass and looked at her companions, and they sat down and looked at her, and Toto found that for the first time in his life he was too tired to chase a butterfly that flew past his head. So he put out his tongue and panted and looked at Dorothy as if to ask what they should do next.

"Suppose we call the field mice," she suggested. "They could probably tell us the way to the Emerald City."

"To be sure they could," cried the Scarecrow. "Why didn't we think of that before?"

Dorothy blew the little whistle she had always carried about her neck since the Queen of the Mice had given it to her. In a few minutes they heard the pattering of tiny feet, and many of the small gray mice came running up to her. Among them was the Queen herself, who asked, in her squeaky little voice:

"What can I do for my friends?"

"We have lost our way," said Dorothy. "Can you tell us where the Emerald City is?"

"Certainly," answered the Queen; "but it is a great way off, for you have had it at your backs all this time." Then she noticed Dorothy's Golden Cap, and said, "Why don't you use the charm of the Cap, and call the Winged Monkeys to you? They will carry you to the City of Oz in less than an hour."

"I didn't know there was a charm," answered Dorothy, in surprise. "What is it?"

"It is written inside the Golden Cap," replied the Queen of the Mice. "But if you are going to call the Winged Monkeys we must run away, for they are full of mischief and think it great fun to plague us."

"Won't they hurt me?" asked the girl anxiously.

"Oh, no. They must obey the wearer of the Cap. Good-bye!" And she scampered out of sight, with all the mice hurrying after her.

Dorothy looked inside the Golden Cap and saw some words written upon the lining. These, she thought, must be the charm, so she read the directions carefully and put the Cap upon her head.

"Ep-pe, pep-pe, kak-ke!" she said, standing on her left foot.

"What did you say?" asked the Scarecrow, who did not know what she was doing.

"Hil-lo, hol-lo, hel-lo!" Dorothy went on, standing this time on her right foot.

"Hello!" replied the Tin Woodman calmly.

"Ziz-zy, zuz-zy, zik!" said Dorothy, who was now standing on both feet. This ended the saying of the charm, and they heard a great chattering and flapping of wings, as the band of Winged Monkeys flew up to them.

The King bowed low before Dorothy, and asked, "What is your command?"

"We wish to go to the Emerald City," said the child, "and we have lost our way."

"We will carry you," replied the King, and no sooner had he spoken than two of the Monkeys caught Dorothy in their arms and flew away with her. Others took the Scarecrow and the Woodman and the Lion, and one little Monkey seized Toto and flew after them, although the dog tried hard to bite him.

The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman were rather frightened at first, for they remembered how badly the Winged Monkeys had treated them before; but they saw that no harm was intended, so they rode through the air quite cheerfully, and had a fine time looking at the pretty gardens and woods far below them.

Dorothy found herself riding easily between two of the biggest Monkeys, one of them the King himself. They had made a chair of their hands and were careful not to hurt her.

"Why do you have to obey the charm of the Golden Cap?" she asked.

"That is a long story," answered the King, with a winged laugh; "but as we have a long journey before us, I will pass the time by telling you about it, if you wish."

"I shall be glad to hear it," she replied.

"Once," began the leader, "we were a free people, living happily in the great forest, flying from tree to tree, eating nuts and fruit, and doing just as we pleased without calling anybody master. Perhaps some of us were rather too full of mischief at times, flying down to pull the tails of the animals that had no wings, chasing birds, and throwing nuts at the people who walked in the forest. But we were careless and happy and full of fun, and enjoyed every minute of the day. This was many years ago, long before Oz came out of the clouds to rule over this land.

"There lived here then, away at the North, a beautiful princess, who was also a powerful sorceress. All her magic was used to help the people, and she was never known to hurt anyone who was good. Her name was Gayelette, and she lived in a handsome palace built from great blocks of ruby. Everyone loved her, but her greatest sorrow was that she could find no one to love in return, since all the men were much too stupid and ugly to mate with one so beautiful and wise. At last, however, she found a boy who was handsome and manly and wise beyond his years. Gayelette made up her mind that when he grew to be a man she would make him her husband, so she took him to her ruby palace and used all her magic powers to make him as strong and good and lovely as any woman could wish. When he grew to manhood, Quelala, as he was called, was said to be the best and wisest man in all the land, while his manly beauty was so great that Gayelette loved him dearly, and hastened to make everything ready for the wedding.

"My grandfather was at that time the King of the Winged Monkeys which lived in the forest near Gayelette's palace, and the old fellow loved a joke better than a good dinner. One day, just before the wedding, my grandfather was flying out with his band when he saw Quelala walking beside the river. He was dressed in a rich costume of pink silk and purple velvet, and my grandfather thought he would see what he could do. At his word the band flew down and seized Quelala, carried him in their arms until they were over the middle of the river, and then dropped him into the water.

"'Swim out, my fine fellow,' cried my grandfather, 'and see if the water has spotted your clothes.' Quelala was much too wise not to swim, and he was not in the least spoiled by all his good fortune. He laughed, when he came to the top of the water, and swam in to shore. But when Gayelette came running out to him she found his silks and velvet all ruined by the river.

"The princess was angry, and she knew, of course, who did it. She had all the Winged Monkeys brought before her, and she said at first that their wings should be tied and they should be treated as they had treated Quelala, and dropped in the river. But my grandfather pleaded hard, for he knew the Monkeys would drown in the river with their wings tied, and Quelala said a kind word for them also; so that Gayelette finally spared them, on condition that the Winged Monkeys should ever after do three times the bidding of the owner of the Golden Cap. This Cap had been made for a wedding present to Quelala, and it is said to have cost the princess half her kingdom. Of course my grandfather and all the other Monkeys at once agreed to the condition, and that is how it happens that we are three times the slaves of the owner of the Golden Cap, whosoever he may be."

"And what became of them?" asked Dorothy, who had been greatly interested in the story.

"Quelala being the first owner of the Golden Cap," replied the Monkey, "he was the first to lay his wishes upon us. As his bride could not bear the sight of us, he called us all to him in the forest after he had married her and ordered us always to keep where she could never again set eyes on a Winged Monkey, which we were glad to do, for we were all afraid of her.

"This was all we ever had to do until the Golden Cap fell into the hands of the Wicked Witch of the West, who made us enslave the Winkies, and afterward drive Oz himself out of the Land of the West. Now the Golden Cap is yours, and three times you have the right to lay your wishes upon us."

As the Monkey King finished his story Dorothy looked down and saw the green, shining walls of the Emerald City before them. She wondered at the rapid flight of the Monkeys, but was glad the journey was over. The strange creatures set the travelers down carefully before the gate of the City, the King bowed low to Dorothy, and then flew swiftly away, followed by all his band.

"That was a good ride," said the little girl.

"Yes, and a quick way out of our troubles," replied the Lion. "How lucky it was you brought away that wonderful Cap!"

15. The Discovery of Oz, the Terrible

The four travelers walked up to the great gate of Emerald City and rang the bell. After ringing several times, it was opened by the same Guardian of the Gates they had met before.

"What! are you back again?" he asked, in surprise.

"Do you not see us?" answered the Scarecrow.

"But I thought you had gone to visit the Wicked Witch of the West."

"We did visit her," said the Scarecrow.

"And she let you go again?" asked the man, in wonder.

"She could not help it, for she is melted," explained the Scarecrow.

"Melted! Well, that is good news, indeed," said the man. "Who melted her?"

"It was Dorothy," said the Lion gravely.

"Good gracious!" exclaimed the man, and he bowed very low indeed before her.

Then he led them into his little room and locked the spectacles from the great box on all their eyes, just as he had done before. Afterward they passed on through the gate into the Emerald City. When the people heard from the Guardian of the Gates that Dorothy had melted the Wicked Witch of the West, they all gathered around the travelers and followed them in a great crowd to the Palace of Oz.

The soldier with the green whiskers was still on guard before the door, but he let them in at once, and they were again met by the beautiful green girl, who showed each of them to their old rooms at once, so they might rest until the Great Oz was ready to receive them.

The soldier had the news carried straight to Oz that Dorothy and the other travelers had come back again, after destroying the Wicked Witch; but Oz made no reply. They thought the Great Wizard would send for them at once, but he did not. They had no word from him the next day, nor the next, nor the next. The waiting was tiresome and wearing, and at last they grew vexed that Oz should treat them in so poor a fashion, after sending them to undergo hardships and slavery. So the Scarecrow at last asked the green girl to take another message to Oz, saying if he did not let them in to see him at once they would call the Winged Monkeys to help them, and find out whether he kept his promises or not. When the Wizard was given this message he was so frightened that he sent word for them to come to the Throne Room at four minutes after nine o'clock the next morning. He had once met the Winged Monkeys in the Land of the West, and he did not wish to meet them again.

The four travelers passed a sleepless night, each thinking of the gift Oz had promised to bestow on him. Dorothy fell asleep only once, and then she dreamed she was in Kansas, where Aunt Em was telling her how glad she was to have her little girl at home again.

Promptly at nine o'clock the next morning the green-whiskered soldier came to them, and four minutes later they all went into the Throne Room of the Great Oz.

Of course each one of them expected to see the Wizard in the shape he had taken before, and all were greatly surprised when they looked about and saw no one at all in the room. They kept close to the door and closer to one another, for the stillness of the empty room was more dreadful than any of the forms they had seen Oz take.

Presently they heard a solemn Voice, that seemed to come from somewhere near the top of the great dome, and it said:

"I am Oz, the Great and Terrible. Why do you seek me?"

They looked again in every part of the room, and then, seeing no one, Dorothy asked, "Where are you?"

"I am everywhere," answered the Voice, "but to the eyes of common mortals I am invisible. I will now seat myself upon my throne, that you may converse with me." Indeed, the Voice seemed just then to come straight from the throne itself; so they walked toward it and stood in a row while Dorothy said:

"We have come to claim our promise, O Oz."

"What promise?" asked Oz.

"You promised to send me back to Kansas when the Wicked Witch was destroyed," said the girl.

"And you promised to give me brains," said the Scarecrow.

"And you promised to give me a heart," said the Tin Woodman.

"And you promised to give me courage," said the Cowardly Lion.

"Is the Wicked Witch really destroyed?" asked the Voice, and Dorothy thought it trembled a little.

"Yes," she answered, "I melted her with a bucket of water."

"Dear me," said the Voice, "how sudden! Well, come to me tomorrow, for I must have time to think it over."

"You've had plenty of time already," said the Tin Woodman angrily.

"We shan't wait a day longer," said the Scarecrow.

"You must keep your promises to us!" exclaimed Dorothy.

The Lion thought it might be as well to frighten the Wizard, so he gave a large, loud roar, which was so fierce and dreadful that Toto jumped away from him in alarm and tipped over the screen that stood in a corner. As it fell with a crash they looked that way, and the next moment all of them were filled with wonder. For they saw, standing in just the spot the screen had hidden, a little old man, with a bald head and a wrinkled face, who seemed to be as much surprised as they were. The Tin Woodman, raising his axe, rushed toward the little man and cried out, "Who are you?"

"I am Oz, the Great and Terrible," said the little man, in a trembling voice. "But don't strike me--please don't--and I'll do anything you want me to."

Our friends looked at him in surprise and dismay.

"I thought Oz was a great Head," said Dorothy.

"And I thought Oz was a lovely Lady," said the Scarecrow.

"And I thought Oz was a terrible Beast," said the Tin Woodman.

"And I thought Oz was a Ball of Fire," exclaimed the Lion.

"No, you are all wrong," said the little man meekly. "I have been making believe."

"Making believe!" cried Dorothy. "Are you not a Great Wizard?"

"Hush, my dear," he said. "Don't speak so loud, or you will be overheard--and I should be ruined. I'm supposed to be a Great Wizard."

"And aren't you?" she asked.

"Not a bit of it, my dear; I'm just a common man."

"You're more than that," said the Scarecrow, in a grieved tone; "you're a humbug."

"Exactly so!" declared the little man, rubbing his hands together as if it pleased him. "I am a humbug."

"But this is terrible," said the Tin Woodman. "How shall I ever get my heart?"

"Or I my courage?" asked the Lion.

"Or I my brains?" wailed the Scarecrow, wiping the tears from his eyes with his coat sleeve.

"My dear friends," said Oz, "I pray you not to speak of these little things. Think of me, and the terrible trouble I'm in at being found out."

"Doesn't anyone else know you're a humbug?" asked Dorothy.

"No one knows it but you four--and myself," replied Oz. "I have fooled everyone so long that I thought I should never be found out. It was a great mistake my ever letting you into the Throne Room. Usually I will not see even my subjects, and so they believe I am something terrible."

"But, I don't understand," said Dorothy, in bewilderment. "How was it that you appeared to me as a great Head?"

"That was one of my tricks," answered Oz. "Step this way, please, and I will tell you all about it."

He led the way to a small chamber in the rear of the Throne Room, and they all followed him. He pointed to one corner, in which lay the great Head, made out of many thicknesses of paper, and with a carefully painted face.

"This I hung from the ceiling by a wire," said Oz. "I stood behind the screen and pulled a thread, to make the eyes move and the mouth open."

"But how about the voice?" she inquired.

"Oh, I am a ventriloquist," said the little man. "I can throw the sound of my voice wherever I wish, so that you thought it was coming out of the Head. Here are the other things I used to deceive you." He showed the Scarecrow the dress and the mask he had worn when he seemed to be the lovely Lady. And the Tin Woodman saw that his terrible Beast was nothing but a lot of skins, sewn together, with slats to keep their sides out. As for the Ball of Fire, the false Wizard had hung that also from the ceiling. It was really a ball of cotton, but when oil was poured upon it the ball burned fiercely.

"Really," said the Scarecrow, "you ought to be ashamed of yourself for being such a humbug."

"I am--I certainly am," answered the little man sorrowfully; "but it was the only thing I could do. Sit down, please, there are plenty of chairs; and I will tell you my story."

So they sat down and listened while he told the following tale.

"I was born in Omaha--"

"Why, that isn't very far from Kansas!" cried Dorothy.

"No, but it's farther from here," he said, shaking his head at her sadly. "When I grew up I became a ventriloquist, and at that I was very well trained by a great master. I can imitate any kind of a bird or beast." Here he mewed so like a kitten that Toto pricked up his ears and looked everywhere to see where she was. "After a time," continued Oz, "I tired of that, and became a balloonist."

"What is that?" asked Dorothy.

"A man who goes up in a balloon on circus day, so as to draw a crowd of people together and get them to pay to see the circus," he explained.

"Oh," she said, "I know."

"Well, one day I went up in a balloon and the ropes got twisted, so that I couldn't come down again. It went way up above the clouds, so far that a current of air struck it and carried it many, many miles away. For a day and a night I traveled through the air, and on the morning of the second day I awoke and found the balloon floating over a strange and beautiful country.

"It came down gradually, and I was not hurt a bit. But I found myself in the midst of a strange people, who, seeing me come from the clouds, thought I was a great Wizard. Of course I let them think so, because they were afraid of me, and promised to do anything I wished them to.

"Just to amuse myself, and keep the good people busy, I ordered them to build this City, and my Palace; and they did it all willingly and well. Then I thought, as the country was so green and beautiful, I would call it the Emerald City; and to make the name fit better I put green spectacles on all the people, so that everything they saw was green."

"But isn't everything here green?" asked Dorothy.

"No more than in any other city," replied Oz; "but when you wear green spectacles, why of course everything you see looks green to you. The Emerald City was built a great many years ago, for I was a young man when the balloon brought me here, and I am a very old man now. But my people have worn green glasses on their eyes so long that most of them think it really is an Emerald City, and it certainly is a beautiful place, abounding in jewels and precious metals, and every good thing that is needed to make one happy. I have been good to the people, and they like me; but ever since this Palace was built, I have shut myself up and would not see any of them.

"One of my greatest fears was the Witches, for while I had no magical powers at all I soon found out that the Witches were really able to do wonderful things. There were four of them in this country, and they ruled the people who live in the North and South and East and West. Fortunately, the Witches of the North and South were good, and I knew they would do me no harm; but the Witches of the East and West were terribly wicked, and had they not thought I was more powerful than they themselves, they would surely have destroyed me. As it was, I lived in deadly fear of them for many years; so you can imagine how pleased I was when I heard your house had fallen on the Wicked Witch of the East. When you came to me, I was willing to promise anything if you would only do away with the other Witch; but, now that you have melted her, I am ashamed to say that I cannot keep my promises."

"I think you are a very bad man," said Dorothy.

"Oh, no, my dear; I'm really a very good man, but I'm a very bad Wizard, I must admit."

"Can't you give me brains?" asked the Scarecrow.

"You don't need them. You are learning something every day. A baby has brains, but it doesn't know much. Experience is the only thing that brings knowledge, and the longer you are on earth the more experience you are sure to get."

"That may all be true," said the Scarecrow, "but I shall be very unhappy unless you give me brains."

The false Wizard looked at him carefully.

"Well," he said with a sigh, "I'm not much of a magician, as I said; but if you will come to me tomorrow morning, I will stuff your head with brains. I cannot tell you how to use them, however; you must find that out for yourself."

"Oh, thank you--thank you!" cried the Scarecrow. "I'll find a way to use them, never fear!"

"But how about my courage?" asked the Lion anxiously.

"You have plenty of courage, I am sure," answered Oz. "All you need is confidence in yourself. There is no living thing that is not afraid when it faces danger. The True courage is in facing danger when you are afraid, and that kind of courage you have in plenty."

"Perhaps I have, but I'm scared just the same," said the Lion. "I shall really be very unhappy unless you give me the sort of courage that makes one forget he is afraid."

"Very well, I will give you that sort of courage tomorrow," replied Oz.

"How about my heart?" asked the Tin Woodman.

"Why, as for that," answered Oz, "I think you are wrong to want a heart. It makes most people unhappy. If you only knew it, you are in luck not to have a heart."

"That must be a matter of opinion," said the Tin Woodman. "For my part, I will bear all the unhappiness without a murmur, if you will give me the heart."

"Very well," answered Oz meekly. "Come to me tomorrow and you shall have a heart. I have played Wizard for so many years that I may as well continue the part a little longer."

"And now," said Dorothy, "how am I to get back to Kansas?"

"We shall have to think about that," replied the little man. "Give me two or three days to consider the matter and I'll try to find a way to carry you over the desert. In the meantime you shall all be treated as my guests, and while you live in the Palace my people will wait upon you and obey your slightest wish. There is only one thing I ask in return for my help--such as it is. You must keep my secret and tell no one I am a humbug."

They agreed to say nothing of what they had learned, and went back to their rooms in high spirits. Even Dorothy had hope that "The Great and Terrible Humbug," as she called him, would find a way to send her back to Kansas, and if he did she was willing to forgive him everything.

16. The Magic Art of the Great Humbug

Next morning the Scarecrow said to his friends:

"Congratulate me. I am going to Oz to get my brains at last. When I return I shall be as other men are."

"I have always liked you as you were," said Dorothy simply.

"It is kind of you to like a Scarecrow," he replied. "But surely you will think more of me when you hear the splendid thoughts my new brain is going to turn out." Then he said good-bye to them all in a cheerful voice and went to the Throne Room, where he rapped upon the door.

"Come in," said Oz.

The Scarecrow went in and found the little man sitting down by the window, engaged in deep thought.

"I have come for my brains," remarked the Scarecrow, a little uneasily.

"Oh, yes; sit down in that chair, please," replied Oz. "You must excuse me for taking your head off, but I shall have to do it in order to put your brains in their proper place."

"That's all right," said the Scarecrow. "You are quite welcome to take my head off, as long as it will be a better one when you put it on again."

So the Wizard unfastened his head and emptied out the straw. Then he entered the back room and took up a measure of bran, which he mixed with a great many pins and needles. Having shaken them together thoroughly, he filled the top of the Scarecrow's head with the mixture and stuffed the rest of the space with straw, to hold it in place.

When he had fastened the Scarecrow's head on his body again he said to him, "Hereafter you will be a great man, for I have given you a lot of bran-new brains."

The Scarecrow was both pleased and proud at the fulfillment of his greatest wish, and having thanked Oz warmly he went back to his friends.

Dorothy looked at him curiously. His head was quite bulged out at the top with brains.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"I feel wise indeed," he answered earnestly. "When I get used to my brains I shall know everything."

"Why are those needles and pins sticking out of your head?" asked the Tin Woodman.

"That is proof that he is sharp," remarked the Lion.

"Well, I must go to Oz and get my heart," said the Woodman. So he walked to the Throne Room and knocked at the door.

"Come in," called Oz, and the Woodman entered and said, "I have come for my heart."

"Very well," answered the little man. "But I shall have to cut a hole in your breast, so I can put your heart in the right place. I hope it won't hurt you."

"Oh, no," answered the Woodman. "I shall not feel it at all."

So Oz brought a pair of tinsmith's shears and cut a small, square hole in the left side of the Tin Woodman's breast. Then, going to a chest of drawers, he took out a pretty heart, made entirely of silk and stuffed with sawdust.

"Isn't it a beauty?" he asked.

"It is, indeed!" replied the Woodman, who was greatly pleased. "But is it a kind heart?"

"Oh, very!" answered Oz. He put the heart in the Woodman's breast and then replaced the square of tin, soldering it neatly together where it had been cut.

"There," said he; "now you have a heart that any man might be proud of. I'm sorry I had to put a patch on your breast, but it really couldn't be helped."

"Never mind the patch," exclaimed the happy Woodman. "I am very grateful to you, and shall never forget your kindness."

"Don't speak of it," replied Oz.

Then the Tin Woodman went back to his friends, who wished him every joy on account of his good fortune.

The Lion now walked to the Throne Room and knocked at the door.

"Come in," said Oz.

"I have come for my courage," announced the Lion, entering the room.

"Very well," answered the little man; "I will get it for you."

He went to a cupboard and reaching up to a high shelf took down a square green bottle, the contents of which he poured into a green-gold dish, beautifully carved. Placing this before the Cowardly Lion, who sniffed at it as if he did not like it, the Wizard said:

"Drink."

"What is it?" asked the Lion.

"Well," answered Oz, "if it were inside of you, it would be courage. You know, of course, that courage is always inside one; so that this really cannot be called courage until you have swallowed it. Therefore I advise you to drink it as soon as possible."

The Lion hesitated no longer, but drank till the dish was empty.

"How do you feel now?" asked Oz.

"Full of courage," replied the Lion, who went joyfully back to his friends to tell them of his good fortune.

Oz, left to himself, smiled to think of his success in giving the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman and the Lion exactly what they thought they wanted. "How can I help being a humbug," he said, "when all these people make me do things that everybody knows can't be done? It was easy to make the Scarecrow and the Lion and the Woodman happy, because they imagined I could do anything. But it will take more than imagination to carry Dorothy back to Kansas, and I'm sure I don't know how it can be done."

17. How the Balloon Was Launched

For three days Dorothy heard nothing from Oz. These were sad days for the little girl, although her friends were all quite happy and contented. The Scarecrow told them there were wonderful thoughts in his head; but he would not say what they were because he knew no one could understand them but himself. When the Tin Woodman walked about he felt his heart rattling around in his breast; and he told Dorothy he had discovered it to be a kinder and more tender heart than the one he had owned when he was made of flesh. The Lion declared he was afraid of nothing on earth, and would gladly face an army or a dozen of the fierce Kalidahs.

Thus each of the little party was satisfied except Dorothy, who longed more than ever to get back to Kansas.

On the fourth day, to her great joy, Oz sent for her, and when she entered the Throne Room he greeted her pleasantly:

"Sit down, my dear; I think I have found the way to get you out of this country."

"And back to Kansas?" she asked eagerly.

"Well, I'm not sure about Kansas," said Oz, "for I haven't the faintest notion which way it lies. But the first thing to do is to cross the desert, and then it should be easy to find your way home."

"How can I cross the desert?" she inquired.

"Well, I'll tell you what I think," said the little man. "You see, when I came to this country it was in a balloon. You also came through the air, being carried by a cyclone. So I believe the best way to get across the desert will be through the air. Now, it is quite beyond my powers to make a cyclone; but I've been thinking the matter over, and I believe I can make a balloon."

"How?" asked Dorothy.

"A balloon," said Oz, "is made of silk, which is coated with glue to keep the gas in it. I have plenty of silk in the Palace, so it will be no trouble to make the balloon. But in all this country there is no gas to fill the balloon with, to make it float."

"If it won't float," remarked Dorothy, "it will be of no use to us."

"True," answered Oz. "But there is another way to make it float, which is to fill it with hot air. Hot air isn't as good as gas, for if the air should get cold the balloon would come down in the desert, and we should be lost."

"We!" exclaimed the girl. "Are you going with me?"

"Yes, of course," replied Oz. "I am tired of being such a humbug. If I should go out of this Palace my people would soon discover I am not a Wizard, and then they would be vexed with me for having deceived them. So I have to stay shut up in these rooms all day, and it gets tiresome. I'd much rather go back to Kansas with you and be in a circus again."

"I shall be glad to have your company," said Dorothy.

"Thank you," he answered. "Now, if you will help me sew the silk together, we will begin to work on our balloon."

So Dorothy took a needle and thread, and as fast as Oz cut the strips of silk into proper shape the girl sewed them neatly together. First there was a strip of light green silk, then a strip of dark green and then a strip of emerald green; for Oz had a fancy to make the balloon in different shades of the color about them. It took three days to sew all the strips together, but when it was finished they had a big bag of green silk more than twenty feet long.

Then Oz painted it on the inside with a coat of thin glue, to make it airtight, after which he announced that the balloon was ready.

"But we must have a basket to ride in," he said. So he sent the soldier with the green whiskers for a big clothes basket, which he fastened with many ropes to the bottom of the balloon.

When it was all ready, Oz sent word to his people that he was going to make a visit to a great brother Wizard who lived in the clouds. The news spread rapidly throughout the city and everyone came to see the wonderful sight.

Oz ordered the balloon carried out in front of the Palace, and the people gazed upon it with much curiosity. The Tin Woodman had chopped a big pile of wood, and now he made a fire of it, and Oz held the bottom of the balloon over the fire so that the hot air that arose from it would be caught in the silken bag. Gradually the balloon swelled out and rose into the air, until finally the basket just touched the ground.

Then Oz got into the basket and said to all the people in a loud voice:

"I am now going away to make a visit. While I am gone the Scarecrow will rule over you. I command you to obey him as you would me."

The balloon was by this time tugging hard at the rope that held it to the ground, for the air within it was hot, and this made it so much lighter in weight than the air without that it pulled hard to rise into the sky.

"Come, Dorothy!" cried the Wizard. "Hurry up, or the balloon will fly away."

"I can't find Toto anywhere," replied Dorothy, who did not wish to leave her little dog behind. Toto had run into the crowd to bark at a kitten, and Dorothy at last found him. She picked him up and ran towards the balloon.

She was within a few steps of it, and Oz was holding out his hands to help her into the basket, when, crack! went the ropes, and the balloon rose into the air without her.

"Come back!" she screamed. "I want to go, too!"

"I can't come back, my dear," called Oz from the basket. "Good-bye!"

"Good-bye!" shouted everyone, and all eyes were turned upward to where the Wizard was riding in the basket, rising every moment farther and farther into the sky.

And that was the last any of them ever saw of Oz, the Wonderful Wizard, though he may have reached Omaha safely, and be there now, for all we know. But the people remembered him lovingly, and said to one another:

"Oz was always our friend. When he was here he built for us this beautiful Emerald City, and now he is gone he has left the Wise Scarecrow to rule over us."

Still, for many days they grieved over the loss of the Wonderful Wizard, and would not be comforted.

18. Away to the South

Dorothy wept bitterly at the passing of her hope to get home to Kansas again; but when she thought it all over she was glad she had not gone up in a balloon. And she also felt sorry at losing Oz, and so did her companions.

The Tin Woodman came to her and said:

"Truly I should be ungrateful if I failed to mourn for the man who gave me my lovely heart. I should like to cry a little because Oz is gone, if you will kindly wipe away my tears, so that I shall not rust."

"With pleasure," she answered, and brought a towel at once. Then the Tin Woodman wept for several minutes, and she watched the tears carefully and wiped them away with the towel. When he had finished, he thanked her kindly and oiled himself thoroughly with his jeweled oil-can, to guard against mishap.

The Scarecrow was now the ruler of the Emerald City, and although he was not a Wizard the people were proud of him. "For," they said, "there is not another city in all the world that is ruled by a stuffed man." And, so far as they knew, they were quite right.

The morning after the balloon had gone up with Oz, the four travelers met in the Throne Room and talked matters over. The Scarecrow sat in the big throne and the others stood respectfully before him.

"We are not so unlucky," said the new ruler, "for this Palace and the Emerald City belong to us, and we can do just as we please. When I remember that a short time ago I was up on a pole in a farmer's cornfield, and that now I am the ruler of this beautiful City, I am quite satisfied with my lot."

"I also," said the Tin Woodman, "am well-pleased with my new heart; and, really, that was the only thing I wished in all the world."

"For my part, I am content in knowing I am as brave as any beast that ever lived, if not braver," said the Lion modestly.

"If Dorothy would only be contented to live in the Emerald City," continued the Scarecrow, "we might all be happy together."

"But I don't want to live here," cried Dorothy. "I want to go to Kansas, and live with Aunt Em and Uncle Henry."

"Well, then, what can be done?" inquired the Woodman.

The Scarecrow decided to think, and he thought so hard that the pins and needles began to stick out of his brains. Finally he said:

"Why not call the Winged Monkeys, and ask them to carry you over the desert?"

"I never thought of that!" said Dorothy joyfully. "It's just the thing. I'll go at once for the Golden Cap."

When she brought it into the Throne Room she spoke the magic words, and soon the band of Winged Monkeys flew in through the open window and stood beside her.

"This is the second time you have called us," said the Monkey King, bowing before the little girl. "What do you wish?"

"I want you to fly with me to Kansas," said Dorothy.

But the Monkey King shook his head.

"That cannot be done," he said. "We belong to this country alone, and cannot leave it. There has never been a Winged Monkey in Kansas yet, and I suppose there never will be, for they don't belong there. We shall be glad to serve you in any way in our power, but we cannot cross the desert. Good-bye."

And with another bow, the Monkey King spread his wings and flew away through the window, followed by all his band.

Dorothy was ready to cry with disappointment. "I have wasted the charm of the Golden Cap to no purpose," she said, "for the Winged Monkeys cannot help me."

"It is certainly too bad!" said the tender-hearted Woodman.

The Scarecrow was thinking again, and his head bulged out so horribly that Dorothy feared it would burst.

"Let us call in the soldier with the green whiskers," he said, "and ask his advice."

So the soldier was summoned and entered the Throne Room timidly, for while Oz was alive he never was allowed to come farther than the door.

"This little girl," said the Scarecrow to the soldier, "wishes to cross the desert. How can she do so?"

"I cannot tell," answered the soldier, "for nobody has ever crossed the desert, unless it is Oz himself."

"Is there no one who can help me?" asked Dorothy earnestly.

"Glinda might," he suggested.

"Who is Glinda?" inquired the Scarecrow.

"The Witch of the South. She is the most powerful of all the Witches, and rules over the Quadlings. Besides, her castle stands on the edge of the desert, so she may know a way to cross it."

"Glinda is a Good Witch, isn't she?" asked the child.

"The Quadlings think she is good," said the soldier, "and she is kind to everyone. I have heard that Glinda is a beautiful woman, who knows how to keep young in spite of the many years she has lived."

"How can I get to her castle?" asked Dorothy.

"The road is straight to the South," he answered, "but it is said to be full of dangers to travelers. There are wild beasts in the woods, and a race of queer men who do not like strangers to cross their country. For this reason none of the Quadlings ever come to the Emerald City."

The soldier then left them and the Scarecrow said:

"It seems, in spite of dangers, that the best thing Dorothy can do is to travel to the Land of the South and ask Glinda to help her. For, of course, if Dorothy stays here she will never get back to Kansas."

"You must have been thinking again," remarked the Tin Woodman.

"I have," said the Scarecrow.

"I shall go with Dorothy," declared the Lion, "for I am tired of your city and long for the woods and the country again. I am really a wild beast, you know. Besides, Dorothy will need someone to protect her."

"That is true," agreed the Woodman. "My axe may be of service to her; so I also will go with her to the Land of the South."

"When shall we start?" asked the Scarecrow.

"Are you going?" they asked, in surprise.

"Certainly. If it wasn't for Dorothy I should never have had brains. She lifted me from the pole in the cornfield and brought me to the Emerald City. So my good luck is all due to her, and I shall never leave her until she starts back to Kansas for good and all."

"Thank you," said Dorothy gratefully. "You are all very kind to me. But I should like to start as soon as possible."

"We shall go tomorrow morning," returned the Scarecrow. "So now let us all get ready, for it will be a long journey."

19. Attacked by the Fighting Trees

The next morning Dorothy kissed the pretty green girl good-bye, and they all shook hands with the soldier with the green whiskers, who had walked with them as far as the gate. When the Guardian of the Gate saw them again he wondered greatly that they could leave the beautiful City to get into new trouble. But he at once unlocked their spectacles, which he put back into the green box, and gave them many good wishes to carry with them.

"You are now our ruler," he said to the Scarecrow; "so you must come back to us as soon as possible."

"I certainly shall if I am able," the Scarecrow replied; "but I must help Dorothy to get home, first."

As Dorothy bade the good-natured Guardian a last farewell she said:

"I have been very kindly treated in your lovely City, and everyone has been good to me. I cannot tell you how grateful I am."

"Don't try, my dear," he answered. "We should like to keep you with us, but if it is your wish to return to Kansas, I hope you will find a way." He then opened the gate of the outer wall, and they walked forth and started upon their journey.

The sun shone brightly as our friends turned their faces toward the Land of the South. They were all in the best of spirits, and laughed and chatted together. Dorothy was once more filled with the hope of getting home, and the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman were glad to be of use to her. As for the Lion, he sniffed the fresh air with delight and whisked his tail from side to side in pure joy at being in the country again, while Toto ran around them and chased the moths and butterflies, barking merrily all the time.

"City life does not agree with me at all," remarked the Lion, as they walked along at a brisk pace. "I have lost much flesh since I lived there, and now I am anxious for a chance to show the other beasts how courageous I have grown."

They now turned and took a last look at the Emerald City. All they could see was a mass of towers and steeples behind the green walls, and high up above everything the spires and dome of the Palace of Oz.

"Oz was not such a bad Wizard, after all," said the Tin Woodman, as he felt his heart rattling around in his breast.

"He knew how to give me brains, and very good brains, too," said the Scarecrow.

"If Oz had taken a dose of the same courage he gave me," added the Lion, "he would have been a brave man."

Dorothy said nothing. Oz had not kept the promise he made her, but he had done his best, so she forgave him. As he said, he was a good man, even if he was a bad Wizard.

The first day's journey was through the green fields and bright flowers that stretched about the Emerald City on every side. They slept that night on the grass, with nothing but the stars over them; and they rested very well indeed.

In the morning they traveled on until they came to a thick wood. There was no way of going around it, for it seemed to extend to the right and left as far as they could see; and, besides, they did not dare change the direction of their journey for fear of getting lost. So they looked for the place where it would be easiest to get into the forest.

The Scarecrow, who was in the lead, finally discovered a big tree with such wide-spreading branches that there was room for the party to pass underneath. So he walked forward to the tree, but just as he came under the first branches they bent down and twined around him, and the next minute he was raised from the ground and flung headlong among his fellow travelers.

This did not hurt the Scarecrow, but it surprised him, and he looked rather dizzy when Dorothy picked him up.

"Here is another space between the trees," called the Lion.

"Let me try it first," said the Scarecrow, "for it doesn't hurt me to get thrown about." He walked up to another tree, as he spoke, but its branches immediately seized him and tossed him back again.

"This is strange," exclaimed Dorothy. "What shall we do?"

"The trees seem to have made up their minds to fight us, and stop our journey," remarked the Lion.

"I believe I will try it myself," said the Woodman, and shouldering his axe, he marched up to the first tree that had handled the Scarecrow so roughly. When a big branch bent down to seize him the Woodman chopped at it so fiercely that he cut it in two. At once the tree began shaking all its branches as if in pain, and the Tin Woodman passed safely under it.

"Come on!" he shouted to the others. "Be quick!" They all ran forward and passed under the tree without injury, except Toto, who was caught by a small branch and shaken until he howled. But the Woodman promptly chopped off the branch and set the little dog free.

The other trees of the forest did nothing to keep them back, so they made up their minds that only the first row of trees could bend down their branches, and that probably these were the policemen of the forest, and given this wonderful power in order to keep strangers out of it.

The four travelers walked with ease through the trees until they came to the farther edge of the wood. Then, to their surprise, they found before them a high wall which seemed to be made of white china. It was smooth, like the surface of a dish, and higher than their heads.

"What shall we do now?" asked Dorothy.

"I will make a ladder," said the Tin Woodman, "for we certainly must climb over the wall."

20. The Dainty China Country

While the Woodman was making a ladder from wood which he found in the forest Dorothy lay down and slept, for she was tired by the long walk. The Lion also curled himself up to sleep and Toto lay beside him.

The Scarecrow watched the Woodman while he worked, and said to him:

"I cannot think why this wall is here, nor what it is made of."

"Rest your brains and do not worry about the wall," replied the Woodman. "When we have climbed over it, we shall know what is on the other side."

After a time the ladder was finished. It looked clumsy, but the Tin Woodman was sure it was strong and would answer their purpose. The Scarecrow waked Dorothy and the Lion and Toto, and told them that the ladder was ready. The Scarecrow climbed up the ladder first, but he was so awkward that Dorothy had to follow close behind and keep him from falling off. When he got his head over the top of the wall the Scarecrow said, "Oh, my!"

"Go on," exclaimed Dorothy.

So the Scarecrow climbed farther up and sat down on the top of the wall, and Dorothy put her head over and cried, "Oh, my!" just as the Scarecrow had done.

Then Toto came up, and immediately began to bark, but Dorothy made him be still.

The Lion climbed the ladder next, and the Tin Woodman came last; but both of them cried, "Oh, my!" as soon as they looked over the wall. When they were all sitting in a row on the top of the wall, they looked down and saw a strange sight.

Before them was a great stretch of country having a floor as smooth and shining and white as the bottom of a big platter. Scattered around were many houses made entirely of china and painted in the brightest colors. These houses were quite small, the biggest of them reaching only as high as Dorothy's waist. There were also pretty little barns, with china fences around them; and many cows and sheep and horses and pigs and chickens, all made of china, were standing about in groups.

But the strangest of all were the people who lived in this queer country. There were milkmaids and shepherdesses, with brightly colored bodices and golden spots all over their gowns; and princesses with most gorgeous frocks of silver and gold and purple; and shepherds dressed in knee breeches with pink and yellow and blue stripes down them, and golden buckles on their shoes; and princes with jeweled crowns upon their heads, wearing ermine robes and satin doublets; and funny clowns in ruffled gowns, with round red spots upon their cheeks and tall, pointed caps. And, strangest of all, these people were all made of china, even to their clothes, and were so small that the tallest of them was no higher than Dorothy's knee.

No one did so much as look at the travelers at first, except one little purple china dog with an extra-large head, which came to the wall and barked at them in a tiny voice, afterwards running away again.

"How shall we get down?" asked Dorothy.

They found the ladder so heavy they could not pull it up, so the Scarecrow fell off the wall and the others jumped down upon him so that the hard floor would not hurt their feet. Of course they took pains not to light on his head and get the pins in their feet. When all were safely down they picked up the Scarecrow, whose body was quite flattened out, and patted his straw into shape again.

"We must cross this strange place in order to get to the other side," said Dorothy, "for it would be unwise for us to go any other way except due South."

They began walking through the country of the china people, and the first thing they came to was a china milkmaid milking a china cow. As they drew near, the cow suddenly gave a kick and kicked over the stool, the pail, and even the milkmaid herself, and all fell on the china ground with a great clatter.

Dorothy was shocked to see that the cow had broken her leg off, and that the pail was lying in several small pieces, while the poor milkmaid had a nick in her left elbow.

"There!" cried the milkmaid angrily. "See what you have done! My cow has broken her leg, and I must take her to the mender's shop and have it glued on again. What do you mean by coming here and frightening my cow?"

"I'm very sorry," returned Dorothy. "Please forgive us."

But the pretty milkmaid was much too vexed to make any answer. She picked up the leg sulkily and led her cow away, the poor animal limping on three legs. As she left them the milkmaid cast many reproachful glances over her shoulder at the clumsy strangers, holding her nicked elbow close to her side.

Dorothy was quite grieved at this mishap.

"We must be very careful here," said the kind-hearted Woodman, "or we may hurt these pretty little people so they will never get over it."

A little farther on Dorothy met a most beautifully dressed young Princess, who stopped short as she saw the strangers and started to run away.

Dorothy wanted to see more of the Princess, so she ran after her. But the china girl cried out:

"Don't chase me! Don't chase me!"

She had such a frightened little voice that Dorothy stopped and said, "Why not?"

"Because," answered the Princess, also stopping, a safe distance away, "if I run I may fall down and break myself."

"But could you not be mended?" asked the girl.

"Oh, yes; but one is never so pretty after being mended, you know," replied the Princess.

"I suppose not," said Dorothy.

"Now there is Mr. Joker, one of our clowns," continued the china lady, "who is always trying to stand upon his head. He has broken himself so often that he is mended in a hundred places, and doesn't look at all pretty. Here he comes now, so you can see for yourself."

Indeed, a jolly little clown came walking toward them, and Dorothy could see that in spite of his pretty clothes of red and yellow and green he was completely covered with cracks, running every which way and showing plainly that he had been mended in many places.

The Clown put his hands in his pockets, and after puffing out his cheeks and nodding his head at them saucily, he said:

"My lady fair,
   Why do you stare
At poor old Mr. Joker?
    You're quite as stiff
And prim as if
    You'd eaten up a poker!"

 

"Be quiet, sir!" said the Princess. "Can't you see these are strangers, and should be treated with respect?"

"Well, that's respect, I expect," declared the Clown, and immediately stood upon his head.

"Don't mind Mr. Joker," said the Princess to Dorothy. "He is considerably cracked in his head, and that makes him foolish."

"Oh, I don't mind him a bit," said Dorothy. "But you are so beautiful," she continued, "that I am sure I could love you dearly. Won't you let me carry you back to Kansas, and stand you on Aunt Em's mantel? I could carry you in my basket."

"That would make me very unhappy," answered the china Princess. "You see, here in our country we live contentedly, and can talk and move around as we please. But whenever any of us are taken away our joints at once stiffen, and we can only stand straight and look pretty. Of course that is all that is expected of us when we are on mantels and cabinets and drawing-room tables, but our lives are much pleasanter here in our own country."

"I would not make you unhappy for all the world!" exclaimed Dorothy. "So I'll just say good-bye."

"Good-bye," replied the Princess.

They walked carefully through the china country. The little animals and all the people scampered out of their way, fearing the strangers would break them, and after an hour or so the travelers reached the other side of the country and came to another china wall.

It was not so high as the first, however, and by standing upon the Lion's back they all managed to scramble to the top. Then the Lion gathered his legs under him and jumped on the wall; but just as he jumped, he upset a china church with his tail and smashed it all to pieces.

"That was too bad," said Dorothy, "but really I think we were lucky in not doing these little people more harm than breaking a cow's leg and a church. They are all so brittle!"

"They are, indeed," said the Scarecrow, "and I am thankful I am made of straw and cannot be easily damaged. There are worse things in the world than being a Scarecrow."

21. The Lion Becomes the King of Beasts

After climbing down from the china wall the travelers found themselves in a disagreeable country, full of bogs and marshes and covered with tall, rank grass. It was difficult to walk without falling into muddy holes, for the grass was so thick that it hid them from sight. However, by carefully picking their way, they got safely along until they reached solid ground. But here the country seemed wilder than ever, and after a long and tiresome walk through the underbrush they entered another forest, where the trees were bigger and older than any they had ever seen.

"This forest is perfectly delightful," declared the Lion, looking around him with joy. "Never have I seen a more beautiful place."

"It seems gloomy," said the Scarecrow.

"Not a bit of it," answered the Lion. "I should like to live here all my life. See how soft the dried leaves are under your feet and how rich and green the moss is that clings to these old trees. Surely no wild beast could wish a pleasanter home."

"Perhaps there are wild beasts in the forest now," said Dorothy.

"I suppose there are," returned the Lion, "but I do not see any of them about."

They walked through the forest until it became too dark to go any farther. Dorothy and Toto and the Lion lay down to sleep, while the Woodman and the Scarecrow kept watch over them as usual.

When morning came, they started again. Before they had gone far they heard a low rumble, as of the growling of many wild animals. Toto whimpered a little, but none of the others was frightened, and they kept along the well-trodden path until they came to an opening in the wood, in which were gathered hundreds of beasts of every variety. There were tigers and elephants and bears and wolves and foxes and all the others in the natural history, and for a moment Dorothy was afraid. But the Lion explained that the animals were holding a meeting, and he judged by their snarling and growling that they were in great trouble.

As he spoke several of the beasts caught sight of him, and at once the great assemblage hushed as if by magic. The biggest of the tigers came up to the Lion and bowed, saying:

"Welcome, O King of Beasts! You have come in good time to fight our enemy and bring peace to all the animals of the forest once more."

"What is your trouble?" asked the Lion quietly.

"We are all threatened," answered the tiger, "by a fierce enemy which has lately come into this forest. It is a most tremendous monster, like a great spider, with a body as big as an elephant and legs as long as a tree trunk. It has eight of these long legs, and as the monster crawls through the forest he seizes an animal with a leg and drags it to his mouth, where he eats it as a spider does a fly. Not one of us is safe while this fierce creature is alive, and we had called a meeting to decide how to take care of ourselves when you came among us."

The Lion thought for a moment.

"Are there any other lions in this forest?" he asked.

"No; there were some, but the monster has eaten them all. And, besides, they were none of them nearly so large and brave as you."

"If I put an end to your enemy, will you bow down to me and obey me as King of the Forest?" inquired the Lion.

"We will do that gladly," returned the tiger; and all the other beasts roared with a mighty roar: "We will!"

"Where is this great spider of yours now?" asked the Lion.

"Yonder, among the oak trees," said the tiger, pointing with his forefoot.

"Take good care of these friends of mine," said the Lion, "and I will go at once to fight the monster."

He bade his comrades good-bye and marched proudly away to do battle with the enemy.

The great spider was lying asleep when the Lion found him, and it looked so ugly that its foe turned up his nose in disgust. Its legs were quite as long as the tiger had said, and its body covered with coarse black hair. It had a great mouth, with a row of sharp teeth a foot long; but its head was joined to the pudgy body by a neck as slender as a wasp's waist. This gave the Lion a hint of the best way to attack the creature, and as he knew it was easier to fight it asleep than awake, he gave a great spring and landed directly upon the monster's back. Then, with one blow of his heavy paw, all armed with sharp claws, he knocked the spider's head from its body. Jumping down, he watched it until the long legs stopped wiggling, when he knew it was quite dead.

The Lion went back to the opening where the beasts of the forest were waiting for him and said proudly:

"You need fear your enemy no longer."

Then the beasts bowed down to the Lion as their King, and he promised to come back and rule over them as soon as Dorothy was safely on her way to Kansas.

22. The Country of the Quadlings

The four travelers passed through the rest of the forest in safety, and when they came out from its gloom saw before them a steep hill, covered from top to bottom with great pieces of rock.

"That will be a hard climb," said the Scarecrow, "but we must get over the hill, nevertheless."

So he led the way and the others followed. They had nearly reached the first rock when they heard a rough voice cry out, "Keep back!"

"Who are you?" asked the Scarecrow.

Then a head showed itself over the rock and the same voice said, "This hill belongs to us, and we don't allow anyone to cross it."

"But we must cross it," said the Scarecrow. "We're going to the country of the Quadlings."

"But you shall not!" replied the voice, and there stepped from behind the rock the strangest man the travelers had ever seen.

He was quite short and stout and had a big head, which was flat at the top and supported by a thick neck full of wrinkles. But he had no arms at all, and, seeing this, the Scarecrow did not fear that so helpless a creature could prevent them from climbing the hill. So he said, "I'm sorry not to do as you wish, but we must pass over your hill whether you like it or not," and he walked boldly forward.

As quick as lightning the man's head shot forward and his neck stretched out until the top of the head, where it was flat, struck the Scarecrow in the middle and sent him tumbling, over and over, down the hill. Almost as quickly as it came the head went back to the body, and the man laughed harshly as he said, "It isn't as easy as you think!"

A chorus of boisterous laughter came from the other rocks, and Dorothy saw hundreds of the armless Hammer-Heads upon the hillside, one behind every rock.

The Lion became quite angry at the laughter caused by the Scarecrow's mishap, and giving a loud roar that echoed like thunder, he dashed up the hill.

Again a head shot swiftly out, and the great Lion went rolling down the hill as if he had been struck by a cannon ball.

Dorothy ran down and helped the Scarecrow to his feet, and the Lion came up to her, feeling rather bruised and sore, and said, "It is useless to fight people with shooting heads; no one can withstand them."

"What can we do, then?" she asked.

"Call the Winged Monkeys," suggested the Tin Woodman. "You have still the right to command them once more."

"Very well," she answered, and putting on the Golden Cap she uttered the magic words. The Monkeys were as prompt as ever, and in a few moments the entire band stood before her.

"What are your commands?" inquired the King of the Monkeys, bowing low.

"Carry us over the hill to the country of the Quadlings," answered the girl.

"It shall be done," said the King, and at once the Winged Monkeys caught the four travelers and Toto up in their arms and flew away with them. As they passed over the hill the Hammer-Heads yelled with vexation, and shot their heads high in the air, but they could not reach the Winged Monkeys, which carried Dorothy and her comrades safely over the hill and set them down in the beautiful country of the Quadlings.

"This is the last time you can summon us," said the leader to Dorothy; "so good-bye and good luck to you."

"Good-bye, and thank you very much," returned the girl; and the Monkeys rose into the air and were out of sight in a twinkling.

The country of the Quadlings seemed rich and happy. There was field upon field of ripening grain, with well-paved roads running between, and pretty rippling brooks with strong bridges across them. The fences and houses and bridges were all painted bright red, just as they had been painted yellow in the country of the Winkies and blue in the country of the Munchkins. The Quadlings themselves, who were short and fat and looked chubby and good-natured, were dressed all in red, which showed bright against the green grass and the yellowing grain.

The Monkeys had set them down near a farmhouse, and the four travelers walked up to it and knocked at the door. It was opened by the farmer's wife, and when Dorothy asked for something to eat the woman gave them all a good dinner, with three kinds of cake and four kinds of cookies, and a bowl of milk for Toto.

"How far is it to the Castle of Glinda?" asked the child.

"It is not a great way," answered the farmer's wife. "Take the road to the South and you will soon reach it."

Thanking the good woman, they started afresh and walked by the fields and across the pretty bridges until they saw before them a very beautiful Castle. Before the gates were three young girls, dressed in handsome red uniforms trimmed with gold braid; and as Dorothy approached, one of them said to her:

"Why have you come to the South Country?"

"To see the Good Witch who rules here," she answered. "Will you take me to her?"

"Let me have your name, and I will ask Glinda if she will receive you." They told who they were, and the girl soldier went into the Castle. After a few moments she came back to say that Dorothy and the others were to be admitted at once.

23. Glinda The Good Witch Grants Dorothy's Wish

Before they went to see Glinda, however, they were taken to a room of the Castle, where Dorothy washed her face and combed her hair, and the Lion shook the dust out of his mane, and the Scarecrow patted himself into his best shape, and the Woodman polished his tin and oiled his joints.

When they were all quite presentable they followed the soldier girl into a big room where the Witch Glinda sat upon a throne of rubies.

She was both beautiful and young to their eyes. Her hair was a rich red in color and fell in flowing ringlets over her shoulders. Her dress was pure white but her eyes were blue, and they looked kindly upon the little girl.

"What can I do for you, my child?" she asked.

Dorothy told the Witch all her story: how the cyclone had brought her to the Land of Oz, how she had found her companions, and of the wonderful adventures they had met with.

"My greatest wish now," she added, "is to get back to Kansas, for Aunt Em will surely think something dreadful has happened to me, and that will make her put on mourning; and unless the crops are better this year than they were last, I am sure Uncle Henry cannot afford it."

Glinda leaned forward and kissed the sweet, upturned face of the loving little girl.

"Bless your dear heart," she said, "I am sure I can tell you of a way to get back to Kansas." Then she added, "But, if I do, you must give me the Golden Cap."

"Willingly!" exclaimed Dorothy; "indeed, it is of no use to me now, and when you have it you can command the Winged Monkeys three times."

"And I think I shall need their service just those three times," answered Glinda, smiling.

Dorothy then gave her the Golden Cap, and the Witch said to the Scarecrow, "What will you do when Dorothy has left us?"

"I will return to the Emerald City," he replied, "for Oz has made me its ruler and the people like me. The only thing that worries me is how to cross the hill of the Hammer-Heads."

"By means of the Golden Cap I shall command the Winged Monkeys to carry you to the gates of the Emerald City," said Glinda, "for it would be a shame to deprive the people of so wonderful a ruler."

"Am I really wonderful?" asked the Scarecrow.

"You are unusual," replied Glinda.

Turning to the Tin Woodman, she asked, "What will become of you when Dorothy leaves this country?"

He leaned on his axe and thought a moment. Then he said, "The Winkies were very kind to me, and wanted me to rule over them after the Wicked Witch died. I am fond of the Winkies, and if I could get back again to the Country of the West, I should like nothing better than to rule over them forever."

"My second command to the Winged Monkeys," said Glinda "will be that they carry you safely to the land of the Winkies. Your brain may not be so large to look at as those of the Scarecrow, but you are really brighter than he is--when you are well polished--and I am sure you will rule the Winkies wisely and well."

Then the Witch looked at the big, shaggy Lion and asked, "When Dorothy has returned to her own home, what will become of you?"

"Over the hill of the Hammer-Heads," he answered, "lies a grand old forest, and all the beasts that live there have made me their King. If I could only get back to this forest, I would pass my life very happily there."

"My third command to the Winged Monkeys," said Glinda, "shall be to carry you to your forest. Then, having used up the powers of the Golden Cap, I shall give it to the King of the Monkeys, that he and his band may thereafter be free for evermore."

The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman and the Lion now thanked the Good Witch earnestly for her kindness; and Dorothy exclaimed:

"You are certainly as good as you are beautiful! But you have not yet told me how to get back to Kansas."

"Your Silver Shoes will carry you over the desert," replied Glinda. "If you had known their power you could have gone back to your Aunt Em the very first day you came to this country."

"But then I should not have had my wonderful brains!" cried the Scarecrow. "I might have passed my whole life in the farmer's cornfield."

"And I should not have had my lovely heart," said the Tin Woodman. "I might have stood and rusted in the forest till the end of the world."

"And I should have lived a coward forever," declared the Lion, "and no beast in all the forest would have had a good word to say to me."

"This is all true," said Dorothy, "and I am glad I was of use to these good friends. But now that each of them has had what he most desired, and each is happy in having a kingdom to rule besides, I think I should like to go back to Kansas."

"The Silver Shoes," said the Good Witch, "have wonderful powers. And one of the most curious things about them is that they can carry you to any place in the world in three steps, and each step will be made in the wink of an eye. All you have to do is to knock the heels together three times and command the shoes to carry you wherever you wish to go."

"If that is so," said the child joyfully, "I will ask them to carry me back to Kansas at once."

She threw her arms around the Lion's neck and kissed him, patting his big head tenderly. Then she kissed the Tin Woodman, who was weeping in a way most dangerous to his joints. But she hugged the soft, stuffed body of the Scarecrow in her arms instead of kissing his painted face, and found she was crying herself at this sorrowful parting from her loving comrades.

Glinda the Good stepped down from her ruby throne to give the little girl a good-bye kiss, and Dorothy thanked her for all the kindness she had shown to her friends and herself.

Dorothy now took Toto up solemnly in her arms, and having said one last good-bye she clapped the heels of her shoes together three times, saying:

"Take me home to Aunt Em!"

Instantly she was whirling through the air, so swiftly that all she could see or feel was the wind whistling past her ears.

The Silver Shoes took but three steps, and then she stopped so suddenly that she rolled over upon the grass several times before she knew where she was.

At length, however, she sat up and looked about her.

"Good gracious!" she cried.

For she was sitting on the broad Kansas prairie, and just before her was the new farmhouse Uncle Henry built after the cyclone had carried away the old one. Uncle Henry was milking the cows in the barnyard, and Toto had jumped out of her arms and was running toward the barn, barking furiously.

Dorothy stood up and found she was in her stocking-feet. For the Silver Shoes had fallen off in her flight through the air, and were lost forever in the desert.

24. Home Again

Aunt Em had just come out of the house to water the cabbages when she looked up and saw Dorothy running toward her.

"My darling child!" she cried, folding the little girl in her arms and covering her face with kisses. "Where in the world did you come from?"

"From the Land of Oz," said Dorothy gravely. "And here is Toto, too. And oh, Aunt Em! I'm so glad to be at home again!"