"GOUVERNEUR MORRIS has gone back to the opening of the civil war for the scene of his latest romance, "Aladdin O'Brien," but his book is removed as far as possible from the many tales which have lately been built upon that much-abused theme, and its title, with its odd suggestion of East and West, is quite in harmony with the quaint fancies and delicate humor that are so adroitly mingled with strong and pathetic situations." -- New York Times, December 20, 1902
and, when all was over, Margaret had waked.
They talked for a long time, for she could not go to sleep again, and Aladdin told her many things and kept her from crying, but he did not tell her about the awful bird or the more awful eyes. He told her about his little brother, and the yellow cat they had, and about the great city where he had once lived, and why he was called Aladdin. And when the real began to grow dim, he told her stories out of strange books that he had read, as he remembered them--first the story of Aladdin and then others.
"Once," began Aladdin, though his teeth were knocking together and his arms aching and his nose running--"once there was a man named Ali Baba, and he had forty thieves--"
Even in the good north country, where the white breath of the melting icebergs takes turn and turn with diamond nights and days, people did not remember so thick a fog; nor was there a thicker recorded in any chapter of tradition. Indeed, if the expression be endurab