"
"If you were better looking I'd keep my promise," she returned. "But
under the circumstances you are no fit mate for me, and unless you
keep away from my mansion I shall set my glass dog on you!" Then she
dropped the 'phone and would have nothing more to say.
The miserable glass-blower went home with a heart bursting with
disappointment and began tying a rope to the bedpost by which to
hang himself.
Some one knocked at the door, and, upon opening it, he saw the
wizard.
"I've lost my dog," he announced.
"Have you, indeed?" replied the glass-blower tying a knot in the
rope.
"Yes; some one has stolen him."
"That's too bad," declared the glass-blower, indifferently.
"You must make me another," said the wizard.
"But I cannot; I've thrown away my tools."
"Then what shall I do?" asked the wizard.
"I do not know, unless you offer a reward for the dog."
"But I have no money," said the wizard.
"Offer some of your compounds, then," suggested the glass-blower,
who was making a noose in the rope for his head to go through.
"The only thing I can spare," replied the wizard, thoughtfully, "is
a Beauty Powder."
"What!" cried the glass-blower, throwing down the rope, "have you
really such a thing?"
"Yes, indeed.
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