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You're built to win it. Welcome to the newscast. The podcast is designed to help you fall asleep. Find us at Snewscast.com. And if you enjoy our show, please share it with a friend. This episode is brought to you by Latin and Greek Declunchons. Tonight, we'll read the Caleb Stork, a fairy tale popularized by Andrew Lang among others. Andrew Lang was a Scottish poet, novelist, historian, and folklorist most famous for his fairy books, a series of twelve collections of fairy tales published between 1889 and 1910. In this tale, a curious purchase leads the caliph of Baghdad and his vizier into an unexpected and transformative adventure. As they navigate their strange new reality, they uncover secrets that challenge their wit and resolve. Their journey takes them to to unexpected places, testing loyalty and ingenuity in ways they never imagined. Let's get cozy. Close your eyes. Relax your body into the softness of your bed. Now take a few deep breaths. Caleb has... Kaila Husset of Baghdad was resting comfortably on his Devan one fine afternoon. He was smoking a long pipe, and from time to time he sipped a little coffee. And after each sip he stroked his long beard with an air of enjoyment. In short, anyone could see that the caliph was an excellent humor. This was, in fact, the best time of day in which to approach him. For just now, he was pretty sure to be both affable and in good spirits. And for this reason, the Grand Vizier, Mansour, always chose this hour in which to pay his daily visit. He arrived as usual this afternoon, but contrary to his usual custom with an anxious face. The car Caleb withdrew his pipe for a moment from his lips and asked, Why do you look so anxious Grand Vizier? The Grand Vizier crossed his arms on his breast and bent low before his master as he answered, O my Lord, whether my countenance be anxious or not, I know not, but down below in the court of the palace is a pedler with such beautiful things that I cannot help feeling annoyed at having so little

money to spare. The Caleb, who had wished for some time past to give his grand vizier a present, ordered his servant to bring the peddler before him at once. The servant soon returned, and followed by the peddler, a short stout man with a swarthy face, and dressed in very ragged clothes. He carried a box containing all manners of wares, strings of pearls, rings, richly mounted pistols, goblets and combs. The Caleb and his visear inspected everything, and the Caleb chose some handsome pistols for himself in Mansor, and a jeweled comb for the visear's wife. Just as the peddler was about to close his box. The Caleb noticed a small drawer and asked if

there was anything else in it for sale. The peddler opened the drawer and showed them a box containing a black powder and a scroll written in strange characters, which neither the Caliph, nor the Mansor could read.

I got these.

I got these two articles from a merchant who had picked them up in the street at Mecca, said the peddler, I do not know what they may contain, but as they have no use to me, you are welcome to have them for ale. The Caleb, who liked to have old manuscripts in his library, even though he could not read them, purchased the scroll and the box and dismissed the peddler. Then being anxious to know what might be the contents of the scroll, he asked the a vizier if he did not know of anyone who might be able to decipher it. Most gracious Lord and Master replied the vizier, near the great mosque of Zaman called Selim, the learned, who knows every language under the sun, send for him. it may be that he will be able to interpret these mysterious characters. The learned Selim was summoned immediately. Selim said the caliph, I hear you are a scholar. Look well at this scroll and see whether you can read it.

If you can, I will give you a robe of honor. But if you fail, I will order you to receive 12 strokes on your cheeks and 5 and 20 on the souls of your feet, because you have been falsely called Selim the Learned. Selim prostrated himself and said, be it according to your will, O Master, then he gazed long at the scroll. Suddenly he exclaimed, oh my Lord, if this isn't Latin, well, said the Caleb, if it is Latin, let us hear what it means. So Selim began to translate, thou who mayest find this, and pronounce the word,abore, can transform himself into any creature he likes, and will understand the language of all animals. When he wishes to resume the human form, he has only to bow three times towards the east, and to repeat the same word. careful, however, when wearing the shape of some beast or bird, not to laugh, or thou wilt certainly forget the magic word and remain an animal forever. When Selim, the learned had read this, the Kaeliff was delighted. He made the wise man swear not to tell the matter to anyone, gave him a splendid robe, and dismissed him. Then he said to his vizier, that's what I call a good bargain, Mansor. I am longing for the moment when I can become some animal. Tomorrow morning I shall expect you early. We will go into the country and then hear what is being said in air, earth and water. Next morning the caliph had barely finished dressing and breakfasting when the Grand Vizier arrived, according to orders to accompany him in his expedition. The Caliph stuck the snuff box in his girdle and having desired his servants to remain at home, started off with the Grand Vizier, only in attendance. First, they walked through the palace gardens, but they looked in vain for some creature, which could tempt them to try their magic power. That length, the vizier suggested going further on to a pond which lay beyond the town, and where he had often seen a variety of creatures, especially Storks whose grave dignified appearance and constant chatter had often attracted his attention. The Caleb consented, and they went straight to the pond. As soon as they arrived, they remarked a stork strutting up and down with a stately

air hunting for frogs and now and then muttering something to itself. At the same time, they saw another stork far above in the sky flying towards the same spot. I would wait your my beard, most gracious master.

Said the Grand Vizier that these two long legs will have a good chat together. How would it be if we turned ourselves into storks? Well said, replied the caliph, but first let us remember carefully how we are to become men once more. True. Bow three times towards the east, and say, Mutabor, and I shall be Caleb, and you, my Grandfazir again. But for heaven's sake, don't laugh, or we are lost. As the Caleb spoke, he saw the second stork circling round his head and gradually flying towards the earth. Quickly he drew the box from his girdle and both cried, mutabore. Instantly their legs shriveled up and grew thin and red. Their smart yellow slippers turned to clumsy stork's feet. Their arms to wings, their necks began to sprout from between their shoulders and grew a yard long. Their beards disappeared and their bodies were covered with feathers. You've got a fine long bill servicier, cried the caliph, after standing for some time, lost in astonishment. By the beard of the prophet, I never saw such a thing in all my life. My very humble thanks replied the grand vizier, as he bent his long neck, but if I may venture to say so, your highness is even handsomer as a stork, then as a caliph. But come, if it so pleases you, let us go near our comrades and find out whether we really do understand the language of Storks. Meanwhile, the second Stork had reached the ground. It first scraped its bill with its claw, stroked down its feathers, and then advanced towards the first Stork. The two newly made Storks lost no time in drawing near, and to their amazement overheard the following conversation. Good morning, Dame Long Legs. You are out early this morning. Yes, indeed, dear Chatterville. I am getting myself a morsel of breakfast. May I offer you a joint of lizard or a frog's thigh? A thousand thanks, but I have really no appetite this morning. I am here for a very different purpose. I am to dance today before my father's guests, and I have come to the meadow for a little quiet practice. There upon the young stork began to move about, with the most wonderful steps. The Caleb and Mansour looked on in surprise for some time. But when at last she balanced herself in a picturesque attitude on one leg, and flapped her wings gracefully up and down, they could hold out no longer. A prolonged peel burst from each of their bills, and it was some time before they could recover their composure. The Caleb was the first to collect himself, that was the best joke, said he. I've ever seen. It's a pity this stupid creatures were scared away by her laughter, or no doubt they would have sung next. Suddenly, the vizier remembered how strictly they had been warned, not to laugh during their transformation. He had once communicated its fears to the Caliph, who exclaimed, by Mecca and Medina, it would indeed prove but a poor joke if I had to remain a

stork for the remainder of my days. Do just try and remember this stupid word. It has slipped my memory. We must bow three times eastwards and say, Mou, Mou, Mou. They turned to the east and fell to bowing till their bills touched the ground. But, oh no, the magic word was quite forgotten. And however often the caliph bowed, and however touchingly his vizier cried, Mooo, mooo, they could not recall it. And the unhappy caliph and Mansor remained storks as they were. The two enchanted birds wandered sadly on through the meadows. In their misery they could not think what to do next. They could not rid themselves of their new forms. There was no use in returning to the town and saying who they were. For who would believe a stork who announced that he was a caliph? And even if they did believe him, would the people of Baghdad consent to let a stork rule over them? So they lounged about for several days, supporting themselves on fruits, which they found some difficulty in eating with their long bills. They did not much care to eat frogs or lizards. Their one comfort in their sad plate was the power of flying, and accordingly they often flew over the roofs of Baghdad to see what was going on there. During the first few days they noticed signs of disturbance in the streets. But about the fourth day, as they sat on the roof of the palace, they perceived a splendid procession passing below them along the street. Drums and trumpets sounded. A man in a scarlet mantle, embroidered in gold, sat on a splendidly comparisoned horse, surrounded by richly dressed servants, half bagged at crowded after him, and they all shouted. Hail Merza, the lord of bagged had. The two storks on the palace roof looked at each other. the Caleb said, can you guess now Grand Vizier why I have been enchanted? This Merza is the son of my enemy, the mighty magician, cashner, who in an evil moment vowed vengeance on me. Still, I will not despair. with, my faithful friend. Perhaps at the sacred spot of Medina, the spell may be loosed. They rose from their palace roof and spread their wings towards Medina. But flying was not quite an easy matter, for the two storks had had but little practice as yet. Oh, my lord, gasped the vizier after a couple of hours. I can get on no longer, you really fly too quick for me. Besides, it is nearly evening, and we should do well to find some place in which to spend the night.

The Caleb listened with favor to his servant's suggestion, and perceiving in the valley beneath them a ruin which seemed to promise shelter they flew towards it. The building in which they proposed to pass the night had apparently been formally a castle. Some handsome pillars still stood amongst the heaps of ruins, and several rooms which yet remained in fair preservation gave evidence of former splendor. Caleb and his companion wandered along the passages seeking a dry spot, when, Manser stood still. My Lord and Master, he whispered, if it were not absurd for a grand viseer and still more for a stork to be afraid of ghosts, I should feel quite nervous for someone, or something close by me has sighed quite audibly.

The kill of stood still and distinctly heard a low weeping sound which seemed to proceed from a human being rather than from any animal. Full of curiosity, he was about to rush towards the spot from whence the sounds woe came, when the vizier caught him by the wing with his bill, and implored him not to expose himself to fresh and unknown dangers. The Caleb, however, under whose stork's breast a brave heartbeat, tore himself away with the loss of few feathers, and hurried down a dark passage. He saw a door which stood a jar, and through which he distinctly heard sighs, mingled with sobs. He pushed open the door with his bill, but remained on the threshold, astonished at the sight which met his eyes. On the floor of the ruined chamber, which was but scantily lighted by a small barred window, sat on large screech owl, big tears rolled from its large round eyes, and in a horse voice, it uttered its complaints through its crooked beak. As soon as it saw the caliph and his viseer, who had crept up meanwhile, it gave vent to a joyful cry. It gently wiped the tears from its eyes, with its spotted brown wings, and to the great amazement of the two visitors, addressed them in good human Arabic. Welcome ye Storks, you are a good sign of my deliverance, for it was foretold me that a piece of good fortune should befall me through a stork. When the K-Lev had recovered from his surprise, he drew up his feet into a graceful position. Bent his long neck and said, Oh, screech owl! From your words I am led to believe that we see in you a companion of misfortune. But alas, your hope that you may attain your deliverance through us is but a vain one. You will know our helplessness when you have heard our story. The screech owl begged him to relate it, and the caliph accordingly told him what we

already know. When the caliph had ended, the owl thanked him and said, you hear my story and own that I am no less unfortunate than yourselves. My father is the king of the indies. I, his only daughter, him named Lusa, that magician, cashner, who had enchanted you, has been the cause of my misfortunes too. He came one day to my father and demanded my hand for his son, Merza. My father, who is rather hasty, ordered him to be thrown downstairs. The wretch not long after managed to approach me under another form, and one day, when I was in the garden, and asked for some refreshment, he brought me in the disguise of a servant, a draft which changed me at once to this avian shape. Whilst I was fainting with terror, he transported me here and cried, there shall you remain lonely and hideous, despised even by the broods, till the end of your days, or until someone of his own free will asks you to be his wife, thus do I avenge myself on you and your proud father. Since then, many months have passed away. Sad and lonely do I live like any hermit within these walls, avoided by the world of humans, and even to animals, the beauties of nature are hidden from me, for I am blind by day, and it is only when the moon sheds her pale light on this spot that the veil falls from my eyes, and I can see the owl paused and once more wiped her eyes with her wing. For the recital of her woes had drawn fresh tears from her. The Caleb fell into deep thought on hearing this story of the Princess. If I am not much mistaken, said he, there is some mysterious connection between our misfortunes. But how to find the key to the riddle is the question. The owl answered, oh my lord, I too feel sure of this, for in my earliest youth as a wise woman foretold that a stork would bring me some great happiness, and I think I could tell you how we might save ourselves. The Caliph was much surprised and asked her what she meant. The magician who has made us both miserable, said she, comes once a month to these ruins. far from this room is a large hall where he is in the habit of feasting with his companions. I have often watched them. They tell each other all about their nefarious deeds, and possibly the magic word which you have forgotten may be mentioned. Oh, dearest princess, exclaim the caliph, say, when does he come and wears the hall? That how will pause the moment and then said, do not think me unkind, but I can only grant your request on one condition. Speak, speak, cried the caliph. Command, I will gladly do whatever you wish. Well, reply the owl. You see, I should like to be free too, but this can only be if one of you will offer me his hand and marriage. The storks seemed rather taken aback by the suggestion, and the Caleb beckoned to his vizier to retire and consult with him. When they were outside the door the Caleb said, Grand Vizier, this is a tiresome business. However, you can take her. Indeed, said the Vizier, so that when I go home my actual wife may scratch my eyes out. Besides, I am an old man, and your highness is still young and unmarried, and a far more suitable match for a lovely princess. That's just where it is, side the Caliph, whose wings drooped in a dejected manner. How do you know she is so lovely? They argued on for some time, but at length,

when the Caliph saw plainly that his vizier would rather remain a stork to the end of his days,

than marry the owl, he determined to fulfill the condition himself.

The owl was delighted. She owned that they could not have arrived at a better time,

as most probably the magicians would meet that very night. She then proceeded to lead the two storks to the chamber. They passed through a long dark passage, till that length a bright ray of light shone before them through the chinks of a half ruined wall.

When they reached it, the owl advised them to keep very quiet.

Through the gap near which they stood, they could with ease survey the whole of the large hall.

It was adorned with splendid carved pillars, a number of colored lamps replaced the light of day. In the middle of the hall, stood a round table covered with a variety of dishes, and about the table was a divan on which eight men were seated. In one of these Nerdy Wells, the two recognized the petler, who had sold the magic powder. The man next to him begged to relate all his latest doings, and amongst them, he told the story of the caliph and his faxir. And what kind of word did you give them, asked another old sorcerer? A very difficult Latin word. It is mutable. As soon as the Storks heard this, they were nearly beside themselves with joy. They ran at such a pace to the door of the ruined castle that the owl could scarcely keep up with them. When they reached it, the Caleb turned to the owl and said with much feeling. Deliver of my friend and myself as a proof of my eternal gratitude, except me as your husband. Then he turned towards the east. Three times the storex bowed their long next to the sun, which was just rising over the mountains. Mootabor, they both cried, and in an instant they were once more transformed. the rapture of their newly given lives, master and servant fell laughing and weeping into each other's arms. Who shall describe their surprise when they at last turned round and beheld standing before them? A beautiful lady exquisitely dressed. With a smile, she held out her hand to the Caliph and asked, Do you not recognize your screech owl? It was she. The Caliph was so enchanted by her grace and beauty that he declared being turned into a stork had been the best piece of luck which had ever befallen him. The three sat out at once for Baghdad. Fortunately, the Kayla found not only the box with the magic powder but also his purse in his girdle. He was therefore able to buy in the nearest village all they required for their journey. And so at last, they reached the gates of Baghdad. Here, the Caleb's arrival created the greatest sensation. He had been quite given up for dead, and the people were greatly rejoiced to see their beloved ruler again. Their rage with the use of the Supermerza, however, was great in proportion. They marched and forced to the palace, and took the old magician and his son out into the street. The crowd was angry, but the Caleb decided to show mercy and banish them from Baghdad. The Caleb lived long and happily with his wife, the Princess. His marrious time was when the Grand Vizier visited him in the afternoon. And when the caliph was in particularly high spirits, he would condescend to mimic the viziers' appearance when he was a stork. He would strut gravely and with well stiffened legs up and down the room, chattering, and showing how he had vainly bowed to the east and cried, Mooo, mooo. The Kayla Fess and her children were always much entertained by this performance.

But when the Caliph went on nodding and bowing and calling, moo, moo, too long, the vizier would threaten laughingly to tell the Caliphess

...