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I was calling myself to account when behold, my friend, the

Tailor, came to me and said, "O youth, in the shop there is an

old man, a Persian,[FN#212] who seeketh thee: he hath thy hatchet

and thy sandals which he had taken to the woodcutters,[FN#213]

saying, "I was going out at what time the Mu'azzin began the call

to dawn prayer, when I chanced upon these things and know not

whose they are; so direct me to their owner." The woodcutters

recognised thy hatchet and directed him to thee: he is sitting in

my shop, so fare forth to him and thank him and take thine axe

and sandals." When I heard these words I turned yellow with fear

and felt stunned as by a blow; and, before I could recover

myself, lo! the floor of my private room clove asunder, and out

of it rose the Persian who was the Ifrit.