the
story of the Caliph and his Vizier.

[Illustration]

'And what kind of word did you give them?' asked another old sorcerer.

'A very difficult Latin word; it is "Mutabor."'

V.

As soon as the storks heard this they were nearly beside themselves with
joy. They ran at such a pace to the door of the ruined castle that the
owl could scarcely keep up with them. When they reached it the Caliph
turned to the owl, and said with much feeling: 'Deliverer of my friend
and myself, as a proof of my eternal gratitude, accept me as your
husband.' Then he turned towards the east. Three times the storks bowed
their long necks to the sun, which was just rising over the mountains.
'Mutabor!' they both cried, and in an instant they were once more
transformed. In the rapture of their newly-given lives master and
servant fell laughing and weeping into each other's arms. Who shall
describe their surprise when they at last turned round and beheld
standing before them a beautiful lady exquisitely dressed!

With a smile she held out her hand to the Caliph, and asked: 'Do you not
recognise your screech owl?'

It was she! The Caliph was so enchanted by her grace and beauty, that he
declared being turned into a stork had been the best piece of luck which
had ever befallen him. The three set out at once for Bagdad.
Fortunately, the Caliph found not only the box with the magic powder,
but also his purse in his girdle; he was, therefore, able to buy in the
nearest village all they required for their journey, and so at last they
reached the gates of Bagdad.

Here the Caliph's arrival created the greatest sensation. He had been
quite given up for dead, and the people were greatly rejoiced to see
their beloved ruler again.

Their rage with the usurper Mirza, however, was great in proportion.
They marched in force to the palace and took the old magician and his
son prisoners. The Caliph sent the magician to the room where the
Princess had lived as an owl, and there had him hanged. As the son,
however, knew nothing of his father's acts, the Caliph gave him his
choice between death and a pinch of the magic snuff. When he chose the
latter, the Grand Vizier handed him the box. One good pinch, and the
magic word transformed him to a stork. The Caliph ordered him to be
confined in an iron cage, and placed in the palace gardens.

Caliph Chasid lived long and happily with his wife the Princess. His
merriest time was when the Grand Vizier vis