boy,” cried the Widow, “imitate every thing that is good, and noble, and virtuous, and you will be like him!” Joachim looked earnestly in her face, but was silent.  He understood a good deal that his Mother meant; he knew he was to try to do every thing that was good, and so be like the young King; but, as he was but a little boy, I am not quite sure that he had not got a sort of vague notion of the gold chariot and the twelve jet black horses, mixed up with his idea of imitating all that was good and noble and virtuous, and being like the young King.  I may be wrong; but, at seven years old, you will excuse him if his head did get a little confused, and if he could not quite separate his ideas of excessive virtue and goodness from all the splendour in which the pattern he was to imitate appeared before his eyes.

However that may be, his Mother’s words made a profound impression upon him.  He thought of nothing else, and if he had been in the silly habit of telling his dreams, I dare say he would have told his mother next morning that he had been dreaming of them.  Certainly they came into his head the first thing in the morning; and they were still in his head when he walked along by the sea-shore, as has been described; so much so, that even his adventure did not make him forget them; and therefore, when this Genie, as I told you before, offered to do any thing he wanted, little Joachim said, “Genie, I want to imitate every thing that is good, and noble, and virtuous, so you must make me able!”

The Genie looked very much surprized, and rather confused; he expected to have been asked for toys, or money, or a new horse, or something nice of that sort; but Joachim looked very grave, so the Genie saw he was in earnest, and he did a most wonderful thing for a Genie; he actually sat down beside the little boy to talk to him.  I don’t recollect that a single Genie in the Arabian Nights, ever did such a thing before; but this Genie did:  What is more, he stroked his beard, and spoke very softly, as follows: 

“My dear little boy, you have asked a great thing.  I can do part of what you wish, but not all; for you have asked what concerns the heart and conscience, and we Genies, cannot influence these, for the great Ruler of all things alone has them under his control.  He allows us, however, power over the intellect—­ah! now I see you cannot understand me, little boy!—­Well!  I mean this;—­I can make your head clever, but I cannot make your heart good:  I can give you the power of imitation, but as to what you imitate, that must depend upon yourself, and the great Being I dare not name!”

After saying this, the Genie laid his immense forefingers on each side of Joachim’s head just above his forehead, and then disappeared.

Joachim felt no pain, but when he got up and put on his cap to go home, his head seemed almost too large for it.

Perhaps he wanted a new cap, but the phrenologists would tell you he had got the organ of Imitation.