"O, yes! we are to bow three times towards the East, and say, Mutabor, and then I am caliph again, and you vizier. But for Heaven's sake don't laugh, or we are lost!"
While the caliph was speaking, he saw the other stork come sailing down over their heads, and settle in a business manner on the ground. Quickly he drew the box from his girdle, took a good pinch of the powder, and handed it to the grand vizier, who also took a pinch, and then both cried out, "Mutabor!"
Immediately their legs shrivelled up, and became thin and red; the beautiful yellow slippers of the caliph and his companion turned into clumsy stork-feet; their arms became wings; their necks stretched out from their shoulders, and were an ell long; their beards disappeared, and their bodies were covered with soft feathers, instead of clothes.
"That's a pretty bill of yours, Mr. Grand Vizier," said the caliph, after a long pause of astonishment. "By the beard of the Prophet, I never saw any thing like that in my life."
"Thank you kindly," answered the grand vizier, bowing; "but, if I may be allowed the observation, your highness looks almost handsomer as stork than as caliph. But come, if you please, let us listen to our comrades yonder, and try whether we really do understand Storkish."
In the mean time the other stork had alighted on the ground. He arranged his feathers with his bill, put himself to rights, and walked up to the first stork.
The two new storks made haste to approach them, and overheard, to their astonishment, the following conversation.
"Good morning, Mrs. Longlegs; you are early on the meadow."
"Thank you, dear blatterbeak! I have been getting a little breakfast. Will you take a bit of lizard, or a frog's leg?"
"Much obliged, but I have no appetite this morning. I came on to the meadow for quite a different purpose. I am to dance before the guests at my father's to-day, and I thought I would exercise a little in private beforehand."