“And then you got the little doves?”

“No.  By that time I cared more for the yen than for the little doves—­and besides, the doves had died.”

“But with the—­the yen, you could buy something else you wanted,” suggested Everychild.

“Not so.  By that time I coveted some ivory chessmen, worth many yen.  And I was very happy, planning how some day I should become rich enough to buy the ivory chessmen.”

“But if you only kept on wishing for things,” murmured Everychild, “and never got them, you’d of course become very unhappy some day!”

But Aladdin slowly shook his head.  “I cannot tell how it may be,” he said.  “But my poor mother was always happy, and she never really got what she wished for, unless it was the last thing of all.”

“And that?” inquired Everychild.

“One thing led to another, in her case; and the last thing she wished for was heaven.  And then she died.”

A great wind roared through the forest and died away in a sigh.

Presently Aladdin spoke again:  “And another great trouble about getting what you wish for is that in most cases when you get a thing you find that you didn’t really want it, after all.  It proves to be not quite what you thought it; or else it came too late.”

This statement was completed in so mournful a tone that Everychild felt constrained to say, “Why shouldn’t you throw the lamp away, if it makes you unhappy?”

“It isn’t possible,” was Aladdin’s rejoinder.  “There is only one way in which I can be rid of it, and I haven’t been able to find that way as yet.”

Everychild was so greatly puzzled by this statement that Aladdin explained:  “I can never be rid of the lamp save on one condition.  When I have wished for the best thing of all the lamp will disappear and I may rejoice in the thought that it will never be mine again.”

“The best thing of all?” mused Everychild.

“You see how difficult it is.  Who can tell what is the best thing of all?  And so I must go on owning the lamp and being unhappy.”

But Everychild found much of this simply bewildering.  “Just the same,” he said after a pause, “it must be very nice to have a lamp to rub, so that you may have so many things you really want.”

He immediately regretted having said this; for Aladdin took up his lamp.  “Very well,” he said, placing the lamp in Everychild’s hands.  And there was a malicious gleam in his slanting eyes as he added, “Suppose you make a wish.  But I charge you!—­think twice before you wish.”

Everychild could not take back his words; and besides, he was tempted.  He touched the lamp with trembling fingers.  He rubbed it, hoping that Aladdin would not laugh at him for being awkward or inexperienced.  And sure enough, the genie of the lamp appeared.

Everychild became quite dumb.  He cast an appealing glance at Aladdin.  “Won’t you make a wish?” he begged.  “After all, it’s very hard, knowing what to wish for.”