TWILIGHT LAND

that there was neither tree nor blade of grass nor hide
nor hair nor living thing of any kind. Nevertheless,
it was an island just like the other; a high mountain,
and nothing else. There Selim’ the Baker went ashore,
and there he would have starved to death only for Luck’s
Ring; for one day a boat came sailing by, and when poor
Selim shouted, those aboard heard him and came and
took him off. How they all stared to see his golden
crown—for he still wore it—and his robes of silk and
satin and the gold and jewels!

Before they would consent to carry him away, they
made him give up all the fine things he had. Then they
took him home again to the town whence he had first
come, just as poor as when he had started. Back he
went to his bake-shop and his ovens, and the first thing
he did was to take off his gold ring and put it on the
shelf.

“Tf that is the ring of good luck,” said he, “I do not
want to wear the like of it.”

That is the way with mortal man; for one has to have
the Ring of Wisdom as well, to turn the Ring of Luck to
good account.

And now for Selim the Fisherman.

Well, thus it happened to him. For awhile he carried
the iron ring around in his pocket—just as so many of
us do—without thinking to put it on. But one day he
slipped it on his finger—and that is what we do not
all of us do. After that he never took it off again, and
the world went smoothly with him. He was not rich, but
then he was not poor; he was not merry, neither was he
sad. He always had enough, and was thankful for it, for
I never yet knew wisdom to go begging or crying.

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