"My father was Mustapha the tailor, but he has been dead a long time now," answered Aladdin.
"Alas!" cried the wicked old Magician, pretending to weep, "he was my brother, and thou must be my nephew. I am thy long-lost uncle!" and he threw his arms round Aladdin's neck and embraced him.
"Tell thy dear mother that I will come and see her this very day," he cried, "and give her this small present." And he placed in Aladdin's hands five gold pieces.
Aladdin ran home in great haste to tell his mother the story of the long-lost uncle.
"It must be a mistake," she said, "thou hast no uncle."
But when she saw the gold she began to think that this stranger must be a relation, and so she prepared a grand supper to welcome him when he came.
They had not long to wait before the African Magician appeared, bringing with him all sorts of fruits and delicious sweets for desert.
"Tell me about my poor brother," he said, as he embraced Aladdin and his mother. "Show me exactly where he used to sit."
Then the widow pointed to a seat on the sofa, and the Magician knelt down and began to kiss the place and weep over it.