Walk on until you come to a table upon which stands a lighted lamp. These halls lead into a garden of fine fruit trees. Pass through them without touching anything, or you will die instantly. “Go down,” commanded the magician, “at the foot of those steps you will find an open door leading into three large halls. The opening was just large enough for a boy to pass through, but plainly the magician, who was rather fat, would not have managed to enter the cave himself. Aladdin saw a flight of steps leading down into a dark cave. The earth trembled a little and a large boulder rolled to one side.

The magician lit a fire and threw some powder on it while saying some magical words. “I will show you something wonderful,” he said. “We will go no farther,” said the false uncle – for in truth he was not Aladdin’s relative, but an African magician in disguise. Eventually they reached the foot of a mountain. They journeyed onwards until late afternoon, but Aladdin did not feel tired because his uncle told him so many interesting stories.

The next day, the uncle led Aladdin out far beyond the city gates. “I am, sir,” replied Aladdin, “but he died a long while ago.” When the stranger heard this, he embraced Aladdin saying: “My boy – I am your long lost uncle.” Aladdin ran home and told his mother all about this newly found relative, and she prepared supper for them all. A stranger came up to him and asked him if he was the son of Mustapha the Tailor. A long time ago, in Persia, a poor boy called Aladdin was playing with his friends in the streets of his city.

Aladdin rubs lamp