Ali Baba’s wife went home, set the measure upon the heap of gold, filled it and emptied it often upon the sofa, till she had done:  when she was very well satisfied to find the number of measures amounted to so many as they did, and went to tell her husband, who had almost finished digging the hole.  While Ali Baba was burying the gold, his wife, to shew her exactness and diligence to her sister-in-law, carried the measure back again, but without taking notice that a piece of gold had stuck to the bottom.  “Sister,” said she, giving it to her again, “you see that I have not kept your measure long; I am obliged to you for it, and return it with thanks.”

As soon as Ali Baba’s wife was gone, Cassim’s looked at the bottom of the measure, and was in inexpressible surprise to find a piece of gold stuck to it.  Envy immediately possessed her breast.  “What!” said she, “has Ali Baba gold so plentiful as to measure it?  Where has that poor wretch got all this wealth?  “Cassim, her husband, was not at home, but at his counting-house, which he left always in the evening.  His wife waited for him, and thought the time an age; so great was her impatience to tell him the circumstance, at which she guessed he would be as much surprised as herself.

When Cassim came home, his wife said to him, “Cassim, I know you think yourself rich, but you are much mistaken; Ali Baba is infinitely richer than you; he does not count his money but measures it.”  Cassim desired her to explain the riddle, which she did, by telling him the stratagem she had used to make the discovery, and shewed him the piece of money, which was so old that they could not tell in what prince’s reign it was coined.

Cassim, instead of being pleased, conceived a base envy at his brother’s prosperity; he could not sleep all that night, and went to him in the morning before sun-rise.  Cassim, after he had married the rich widow, had never treated Ali Baba as a brother, but neglected him.  “All Baba,” said he, accosting him, “you are very reserved in your affairs; you pretend to be miserably poor, and yet you measure gold.”  “How, brother?” replied Ali Baba; “I do not know what you mean:  explain yourself.”  “Do not pretend ignorance,” replied Cassim, shewing him the piece of gold his wife had given him.  “How many of these pieces,” added he, “have you?  My wife found this at the bottom of the measure you borrowed yesterday.”

By this discourse, Ali Baba perceived that Cassim and his wife, through his own wife’s folly, knew what they had so much reason to conceal; but what was done could not be recalled; therefore, without shewing the least surprise or trouble, he confessed all, told his brother by what chance he had discovered this retreat of the thieves, in what place it was; and offered him part of his treasure to keep the secret.  “I expect as much,” replied Cassim haughtily; “but I must know exactly where this treasure is, and how I may visit it myself when I choose; otherwise I will go and inform against you, and then you will not only get no more, but will lose all you have, and I shall have a share for my information.”