on the roof of the palace, they perceived a splendid procession passing below them along the street. Drums and trumpets sounded; a man in a scarlet mantle, embroidered in gold, sat on a splendidly caparisoned horse surrounded by richly dressed slaves; half Bagdad crowded after him, and they all shouted, "Hail, Mirza, the Lord of Bagdad!"
The two storks on the palace roof looked at each other, and the Caliph Chasid said, "Can you guess now, Grand Vizier, why I have been enchanted? This Mirza is the son of my deadly enemy, the mighty magician Kaschnur, who in an evil moment vowed vengeance on me. Still I will not despair! Come with me, my faithful friend; we will go to the grave of the Prophet, and perhaps at that sacred spot the spell may be loosed."
They rose from the palace roof, and spread their wings toward Medina.
But flying was not an easy matter, for the two storks had had but little practice as yet.
"Oh, my Lord!" gasped the Vizier, after a couple of hours, "I can go on no longer; you really fly too quick for me. Besides, it
