picture. A large gilt frame surrounded it, and on one corner of the frame a laurel wreath had been hung; but a black band, twined unseen among the green leaves, and a streamer of crape, hung down from it; for within the last few days the young artist had—died.
THE EMPEROR’S NEW CLOTHES.
Many years ago, lived an emperor who was so very fond of new clothes, that he spared no expense in order to obtain as many fine dresses as possible.
He did not care about the soldiers of the army, and scarcely ever visited the theatre, and when he did drive out in his carriage it was only to show off his new clothes.
He had a different suit for every hour of the day, and his subjects, instead of saying, as they do in other kingdoms, “The king is in his council chamber,” here it was always said, “The emperor is in his dressing-room.”
The great city in which he dwelt was very gay, for every day strangers visited the town. On a certain day two men arrived who gave out that they were weavers, and possessed the secret of weaving the most beautiful fabric that eyes had ever seen. They pretended also that, although the rich colours and designs were as beautiful as the material, yet the latter had a wonderful power of becoming invisible, even when made into clothes, to everybody who was either unsuitable for his position or very stupid.
“To have clothes of such a material as that would just suit me,” thought the emperor. “If I wore them I should soon find out which men in my empire were suited to the positions they filled, and distinguish between the clever and the stupid. Yes, I must have some of that stuff woven for myself.” So he gave an order to the weavers, with a large sum of money in advance, so that they might begin their work immediately.
The impostors set up two weaving looms, and pretended to be at work, but there was nothing on the looms at all. Then they asked for the finest and the costliest thread of gold and silk, all of which they stowed away safely in a bag, and then worked the empty looms all night.
“I should like to know how the weaving gets on,” thought the emperor; but he was greatly troubled with a fear that if he could not see this wonderful stuff on the looms, his subjects would think he was stupid, or not fit for his position.
But at last he decided that he could have no cause to fear, yet he would send some one else to look at the looms first, and see how the weaving was progressing.
