Many years ago there lived an Emperor who was so fond of new clothes that he spent all his money upon dress and finery. He cared not a straw for his soldiers, nor for going to the theater or driving in the park; all he really cared about was showing his new clothes. He had a coat for every hour of the day.

The great city where he lived was a very pleasant place. Many strangers visited it every day, and one day two rogues arrived who said they were weavers, and pretended they knew how to weave the most beautiful cloth. Not only were .the colors and pat- terns unusually fine, they said, but the cloth was so delicate that nobody who was either unfit for his office or stupid could see them.

"They would indeed be valuable clothes," thought the Emperor. "By wearing them, I could find out which of my ministers are unfit for their positions, and I could tell the wise from the stupid. Yes, some of that cloth must be woven for me at once." And he gave the two rogues a lot of money in advance so that they might begin their work.

So they set up two looms and pretended they were working, but there was really nothing at all upon the looms. Very soon they asked for the finest silk and the purest gold thread, which they put carefully away, and worked on with the empty looms till late into the night.

"I should like to know how the clothes are getting on," thought the Emperor; but really and truly he felt a litde uneasy when he remembered that the stupid and the unfit would not be able to see the cloth. He fancied, indeed, that he had no need to be anxious on his own account, but he thought it would be safer to send someone else first to see how things went. Every person throughout the city had heard of the wonder- ful new cloth, and all were eager to see how foolish or stupid their neighbors were.

"I will send my worthy old minister to the weav- ers," thought the Emperor; "he can best see what the cloth looks like, for he is a man of brains and none is fitter for his of face than he."

So the able old minister went into the room where the two rogues sat working at the empty looms. "Mercy on us!" thought he, and opened his eyes very wide. "I can't see anything." But he took very good care not to say so.

The two rogues begged him to draw nearer, and asked him if the pattern was not a pretty one, and the colors very beautiful. Then they pointed at the empty looms, and the poor old minister opened his eyes wider and wider, but he could see nothing, for there was nothing to see. "Good gracious! " thought he, "I am not stupid, surely? I never thought so be- fore, and I'll take good care that nobody shall know it now. What! I am not fit for my office, eh? Oh, no, it will never do to go and say that I can't see the cloth!"

"Well, have you nothing to say about it?" asked one of the weavers.

"Oh, it is beautiful! the most lovely thing in the world!" said the old minister, and he took out his spectacles. "What a pattern! And those colors, too! Yes, I'll tell the Emperor that it pleases me im- mensely!"

"Well, we are pleased with it too," said the two weavers; and now they named the colors and described the pattern. The old minister listened carefully to all they said, so as to be able to repeat the same things to the Emperor, which he did.

And now the rogues asked for more money, more silk, and more gold; they needed the gold for the weaving, they said. They stuck everything into their own pockets; not so much as a thread passed over the looms; but they kept on as before weaving upon the empty looms.

In a short time the Emperor sent another very bright officer to see how the weaving was getting on, and if the cloth was nearly ready. He looked and looked, but there was nothing there but the empty loom. "A pretty piece of cloth, isn't it?" said the two rogues, and pretended to point out the pretty patterns, of which there was really nothing.

"Surely I am not stupid!" thought the man. "Not fit for my posidon, eh! A pretty )oke, I must say, but I must not let it be noticed!" So he praised the cloth he did not see, and praised them for the beautiful colors and the lovely patterns. "Yes, it is perfectly enchanting!" said he to the Emperor. Soon all the people in the town were talking of the splendid cloth.

And now the Emperor had a mind to see the cloth himself while it was still on the loom. With a host of the great folk of his realm, among whom were the two able officers who had been there before, he went to the two crafty rogues who were now working with all their might, but without a sdtch or thread.

"Now, is it not magnificent?" said the two officers. "Will your Majesty nodce what patterns, what colors are here?" and they pointed at the empty looms, taking if for granted that the others could see the cloth.

"Why, what is this?" thought the Emperor. "I don't see anything! How horrible! Am I stupid then? Am I unfit to be Emperor? That would be the most frightful thing that could happen to me! Oh, it is very fine!" said he aloud. "It has my most gracious approval!" and he nodded his head, and gazed at the empty loom. He would not say that he could not see anything. His whole suite stared and stared; they could make no more of it than the rest, but they repeated after the Emperor, "Oh, it is very fine!" and advised him to wear clothes made of this new and gorgeous cloth for the first time at the grand procession which was about to take place.

"It is magnificent, elegant, excellent!" went from mouth to mouth. Everybody seemed so mightily pleased with the cloth that the Emperor gave each of the rogues a ribbon and a cross to wear, and conferred on them the title of "Weavers to the Imperial Court." On the eve of the procession the rogues sat up all night, and had more than sixteen candles lit. The people could see that they were busy getting ready the Emperor's new clothes. They pretended to take the cloth from the loom, they clipped the air with large scissors, and sewed with needles without thread, and at last declared, "There, the clothes are now quite ready!"

The Emperor, with his principal lords, then came himself, and the rogues raised their arms as if they were holding up something, and said, "Look, here are the hose, and here is the coat, and here the mantle. They are as light as gossamer," they continued, "you would fancy you had nothing on at all, but that is just the beauty of the cloth."

"Of course!" said all the gentlemen-in-waiting; but they could see nothing, for there was nothing to see. "And now, if your Imperial Majesty will most graciously have your clothes taken off," said the rogues, "we will put on the new ones for your Majesty. In front of the large mirror, please! Thank you!"

So the Emperor's clothes were taken off, and the rogues pretended to give him the newly made ones piece by piece, and they smoothed down his body, and tied something fast which was supposed to be the train, and the Emperor turned and twisted himself in front of the mirror.

"What a capital suit it is! How nicely it fits!" the people cried with one voice. "What a pattern! What colors! It is a splendid dress!" "The canopy which is to be borne over your Maj- esty in the procession is waiting outside," the Master of the Ceremonies announced.

"All right," said the Emperor; "I am quite ready. Do my clothes fit well?" He turned himself once more before the mirror, to make believe that he was now taking a general look at his splendor. The gen- tlemen-in-waiting, who had to bear his train, fumbled with their hands along the floor as if they were taking the train up, and as they went along they held their hands in the air, for they dared not let it be supposed that they saw nothing.

And thus the Emperor marched in the procession beneath the beautiful canopy, and every one in the streets and in the windows said, "Gracious! how per- fect the Emperor's new clothes are! What a beauti- ful train! How splendidly everything fits!" No one would have it supposed that he saw nothing, for then he would certainly have been unfit for his post, or very stupid. None of the Emperor's clothes had been so successful as these.

"Why, he has nothing on!" cried a little child. "Listen to the voice of innocence!" said the father; for everyone was whispering to his neighbor what the child had said. "He has nothing on! There is a little child here who says he has nothing on!" "He really has nothing on!" at length cried the whole crowd.

The Emperor crouched down as he heard, for it seemed to him that they were right, but he thought at the same time, "At any rate I must go through with this procession to the end." So he put on a still haughtier air, and the gentlemen-in-waiting marched behind, carefully holding up the train that wasn't there.