My little knowledge made many people envy my master’s good fortune, and lay snares to steal me away, which obliged him always to keep me in his sight.  One day a woman came like the rest out of curiosity to buy some bread, and seeing me sit upon the counter, threw down before me six pieces of money, among which was one that was bad.  I separated it presently from the others, and setting my paw upon it, looked in the woman’s face, as much as to say, “Is it not so?” The woman looking at me replied, “Yes, you are in the right, it is bad:”  and staying some time in the shop, to look at and admire me, at last paid my master for his bread, but when she went out of the shop, made a sign, unknown to him, for me to follow her.

I was always attentive to any means likely to deliver me out of so strange a metamorphosis, and had observed that the woman examined me with an extraordinary attention.  I imagined that she might know something of my misfortune, and the melancholy condition I was reduced to:  however, I let her go, and contented myself with looking at her.  After walking two or three steps, she turned about, and seeing that I only looked at her, without stirring from my place, made me another sign to follow her.

Without deliberating any longer, and observing that my master was busy cleaning his oven, and did not mind me, I jumped off the counter, and followed the woman, who seemed overjoyed.

After we had gone some way, she stopped at a house, opened the door, and called to me to come in, saying, “You will not repent following me.”  When I had entered, she shut the door, and conduded me to her chamber, where I saw a beautiful young lady working embroidery.  This lady, who was daughter to the charitable woman who had brought me from the baker’s, was a very skilful enchantress, as I found afterwards.

“Daughter,” said the mother, “I have brought you the much-talked-of baker’s dog, that can tell good money from bad.  You know I gave you my opinion respecting him when I first heard of him, and told you, I fancied he was a man changed into a dog by some wicked magician.  To-day I determined to go to that baker for some bread, and was myself a witness of the wonders performed by this dog, who has made such a noise in Bagdad.  What say you, daughter, am I deceived in my conjecture?” “Mother, you are not,” answered the daughter, “and I will disenchant him immediately.”

The young lady arose from her sofa, put her hand into a basin of water, and throwing some upon me, said, “If thou wert born a dog, remain so, but if thou wert born a man, resume thy former shape, by the virtue of this water.”  At that instant the enchantment was broken, and I became restored to my natural form.

Penetrated with the greatness of this kindness, I threw myself at my deliverer’s feet; and after I had kissed the hem of her garment, said, “My dear deliverer, I am so sensible of your unparalleled humanity towards a stranger, as I am, that I beg of you to tell me yourself what I can do to shew my gratitude; or rather dispose of me as a slave, to whom you have a just right, since I am no more my own, but entirely yours:  and that you may know who I am, I will tell you my story in as few words as possible.”