TWILIGHT LAND

When the next morning came the Demon appeared
like a whirlwind. His face was as black as ink and
smoke, and sparks of fire flew from his nostrils.

“What have you for me to do?” cried he.

“T have nothing for you to do!” piped the poor
Tailor.

“Nothing ?” cried the Demon.

“ Nothing.”

“Then prepare to die.”

“© Stop!” said the Tailor, falling on his knees, “let me
first see my wife.”

“So be it,” said the Demon, and if he had been wiser
he would have said “‘ No.”

When the Tailor came to the princess, he flung him-
self on his face, and began to weep and wail. The prin-
cess asked him what was the matter, and at last, by dint
of question, got the story from him, piece by piece. When
she had it all she began laughing. ‘Why did you not
come to me before,” said she, ‘instead of making all
this trouble and uproar for nothing at all? I will give
the Monster a task to do.” She plucked a single curling
hair from her head. “Here,” said she, “let him take
this hair and make it straight.”

The Tailor was full of doubt ; nevertheless, as there was
nothing better to do, he took it to the Demon.

“Hast thou found me a task to do?” cried the
Demon.

“Yes,” said the Tailor. “It is only a little thing.
Here is a hair from my wife’s head; take it and make it
straight.”

When the Demon heard what was the task that the
Tailor had set him to do he laughed aloud; but that was

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