lothes. He had a costume for every hour
in the day, and instead of saying, as one does about any other king or
emperor, 'He is in his council chamber,' here one always said, 'The
Emperor is in his dressing-room.'

Life was very gay in the great town where he lived; hosts of strangers
came to visit it every day, and among them one day two swindlers. They
gave themselves out as weavers, and said that they knew how to weave the
most beautiful stuffs imaginable. Not only were the colours and patterns
unusually fine, but the clothes that were made of the stuffs had the
peculiar quality of becoming invisible to every person who was not fit
for the office he held, or if he was impossibly dull.

'Those must be splendid clothes,' thought the Emperor. 'By wearing them
I should be able to discover which men in my kingdom are unfitted for
their posts. I shall distinguish the wise men from the fools. Yes, I
certainly must order some of that stuff to be woven for me.'

He paid the two swindlers a lot of money in advance so that they might
begin their work at once.

They did put up two looms and pretended to weave, but they had nothing
whatever upon their shuttles. At the outset they asked for a quantity of
the finest silk and the purest gold thread, all of which they put into
their own bags, while they worked away at the empty looms far into the
night.

'I should like to know how those weavers are getting on with the stuff,'
thought the Emperor; but he felt a little queer when he reflected that
any one who was stupid or unfit for his post would not be able to see
it. He certainly thought that he need have no fears for himself, but
still he thought he would send somebody else first to see how it was
getting on. Everybody in the town knew what wonderful power the stuff
possessed, and every one was anxious to see how stupid his neighbour
was.

'I will send my faithful old minister to the weavers,' thought the
Emperor. 'He will be best able to see how the stuff looks, for he is a
clever man, and no one fulfils his duties better than he does!'

So the good old minister went into the room where the two swindlers sat
working at the empty loom.

'Heaven preserve us!' thought the old minister, opening his eyes very
wide. 'Why, I can't see a thing!' But he took care not to say so.

Both the swindlers begged him to be good enough to step a little nearer,
and asked if he did not think it a good pattern and beautiful colouring.
They po