story of the Caliph and his Vizier.

V.

"What kind of a word did you give them?" asked the other sorcerer.

"A very hard Latin word--_Mutator_."

When the storks from their place in the wall, heard this, they were
almost beside themselves with joy. They ran so fast toward the outlet
of the ruins that the owl could hardly keep up with their long legs.
Once clear of the building, the Caliph said to the owl with much
feeling:

"Savior of my life and the life of my friend! As a lasting reward for
what you have done, take me for your husband."

Then he turned to the East. Three times the storks bowed their long
necks to the sun just rising above the mountains, "_Mutabor!_" shouted
they, and in a trice they were men again. Then, in the joy of their
newly-returned life, master and follower were laughing and weeping by
turns in each other's arms.

But who could describe their astonishment when they turned around and
saw a beautiful lady, richly dressed, standing before them? With a
smile she gave the Caliph her hand.

"Do you no longer recognize the owl?" she asked.

It really was the Princess. The Caliph was so enraptured by her beauty
and grace, that he declared his transformation into a stork had been
the best piece of fortune that had ever happened to him.

The three now set out together on their journey to Bagdad. The Caliph
found in his clothes not only the box of magic powder, but his purse as
well. He therefore bought in the next village whatever was necessary
for their journey, and thus they soon reached the gates of Bagdad.
There the arrival of the Caliph caused the greatest surprise. He had
long since been given up for dead, and the joy of the people at getting
back their beloved ruler knew no bounds. All the more was their wrath
inflamed against the traitor Mizra. They rushed to the palace, and took
the old sorcerer and his son prisoners.

The Caliph sent the old man to the ruins, and had him hanged in the
very room that had been occupied by the Princess when an owl. But to
the son, who understood nothing of the art of his father, he gave the
choice of death or a pinch of the powder. As the prisoner chose the
latter, the Grand Vizier offered him the box. A generous pinch,
followed by the magic word of the Caliph, and he became a stork. The
Caliph secured him in an iron cage, which was placed in the garden.

Long and happily Caliph Chasid lived with his wife, the