Once upon a time, in a far city of Cathay, there lived a poor tailor who had an only son named Aladdin. This boy was a born troublemaker, and persistently resisted all his father’s efforts to teach him a trade with which he would be able in future to earn a livelihood. Aladdin would sooner play at knucklebones in the street with other careless boys than apply himself to honest work, and obeying his parents in the smallest matter, it was not in his nature. Such was Aladdin, and yet—so remarkable is the favour of fate—he was strangely predestined for great things.

Stricken with grief because of the waywardness and idle behaviour of his son, the father fell ill and died. The mother found great difficulty in supporting herself, let alone the useless Aladdin. While she worked herself to exhaustion to earn the barest living, Aladdin would amuse himself with his fellow friends of the street, only returning home to his meals. In this way, he continued until he was fourteen years old, when his extraordinary destiny took him by the hand and led him, step by step, through adventures so wonderful that words can scarcely describe them.

One day, he was playing in the street with his ragged companions when a Moorish Dervish came by, and, catching sight of Aladdin’s face, suddenly stopped and approached him. This Dervish was a sorcerer who had discovered many hidden secrets by his black art. In fact, he was on the track of one now, and, by the look on his face as he scrutinised Aladdin’s features, it seemed that the boy was closely connected with his quest.

The Dervish waved to one of the urchins and asked him who Aladdin was, who his father was, and indeed all about him. Having thus learned the whole history of the boy and his family, the Dervish gave his informer some coins and sent him away to spend them. Then he approached Aladdin and said to him, “Boy, you look familiar to me. Are you not the tailor’s son?” Aladdin answered him that he was, and added that his father was dead.

On hearing this, the Dervish cried out with grief and embraced Aladdin, weeping bitterly. The boy was surprised at this and enquired about the cause of such sorrow. “Alas!” replied the Dervish with tears running down his cheeks, “My fate is an unhappy one. Boy, I have come from a distant country to find my brother, to look upon his face again, and to cheer and comfort him; and now you are telling me that he is dead.” He took Aladdin’s face in his hands and gazed searchingly upon it as he continued, “Boy, I recognise my brother’s features in you, and, now that he is dead, I will find comfort in you.”

Aladdin looked up at him in wonder, for he had never been told that he had an uncle. Indeed, he was inclined to doubt the truth of the matter, but when the Dervish took ten pieces of gold from his purse and placed them in his hand, all doubt was out of the question, and he rejoiced for having a rich uncle. The Dervish then asked him concerning his mother and begged him to show him the way to her house. And, when Aladdin had shewed him, he gave the boy more gold and said, “Give this to your mother with my blessing, and say that her brother-in-law, who has been absent for forty years, has returned and will visit her tomorrow to weep with her over the grave of his brother.” With this, he departed, and Aladdin ran to his mother to tell her the news.

“Mother! Mother!” he cried excitedly, bursting in on her, “my uncle has returned after forty years. He wept when I told him my father was dead, and he salutes you and—” “My son,” she broke in, “what are these wild words? You have no uncle, and the only one you ever had died many years before you were born.” “No, no,” said Aladdin, “this is my father’s brother. He recognised my father’s features in me and wept, and gave me this to bring to you, with a message that he would come to see thee tomorrow.”

He handed her the gold, and, as the widow took it, her doubt was lessened considerably. “I wonder,” she cried. “Can it be that my husband’s brother did not die after all, or that he has risen from the grave? In either case, he is rich and generous.”

The next day, the Dervish looked for Aladdin in the street where he had seen him the day before, and found him there among his disreputable friends. Taking him aside, he kissed him and embraced him. Then, placing ten gold pieces in his hand, he said, “Give your mother these gold pieces and say that her brother-in-law will come for dinner at her house this night.”

So Aladdin left him and ran home to his mother with the gold pieces and the message. Then the widow busied herself and prepared to welcome this newfound relative. She bought rich food, and borrowed good dishes, utensils and napery from her neighbours as she required. When the supper was ready, the widow was about to send Aladdin to bring the guest. But then the Dervish entered, followed by a slave bearing fruit and wine, which he set down, and then went his way. The Dervish, weeping bitterly, saluted the widow and immediately fell to asking questions about the departed, finally desiring to know which was his empty seat. On being shown it, he prostrated himself and cried, “Alas! that I should return to find his place vacant. Oh! Woe; there is no power nor strength but in God!” And he did not stop weeping until he had convinced the widow that his grief was genuine.