and amongst them he told the story of the Caliph and his Vizier.
"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
