LITMIR.BIZ

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butler opened the door and said:

      “No soap, no chromos, no vegetables, no hair oil, no books, no baking powder. My young lady is dying and we’re well supplied for the funeral.”

      The glass-blower was grieved at being taken for a peddler.

      “My friend,” he began, proudly; but the butler interrupted him, saying:

      “No tombstones, either; there’s a family graveyard and the monument’s built.”

      “The graveyard won’t be needed if you will permit me to speak,” said the glass-blower.

      “No doctors, sir; they’ve given up my young lady, and she’s given up the doctors,” continued the butler, calmly.

      “I’m no doctor,” returned the glass-blower.

      “Nor are the others. But what is your errand[17]?”

      “I called to cure your young lady by means of a magical compound.”

      “Step in, please, and take a seat in the hall. I’ll speak to the housekeeper,” said the butler, more politely.

      So he spoke to the housekeeper and the housekeeper mentioned the matter to the steward and the steward consulted the chef and the chef kissed the lady’s maid and sent her to see the stranger. Thus are the very wealthy hedged around with ceremony, even when dying.

      When the lady’s maid heard from the glass-blower that he had a medicine which would cure her mistress, she said:

      “I’m glad you came.”

      “But,” said he, “if I restore your mistress to health she must marry me.”

      “I’ll make inquiries and see if she’s willing,” answered the maid, and went at once to consult Miss Mydas.

      The young lady did not hesitate an instant.

      “I’d marry any old thing rather than die!” she cried. “Bring him here at once!”

      So the glass-blower came, poured the magic drop into a little water, gave it to the patient, and the next minute Miss Mydas was as well as she had ever been in her life.

      “Dear me!” she exclaimed; “I’ve an engagement at the Fritters’ reception to-night. Bring my pearl-colored silk, Marie, and I will begin my toilet at once. And don’t forget to cancel the order for the funeral flowers and your mourning gown.”

      “But, Miss Mydas,” remonstrated the glass-blower, who stood by, “you promised to marry me if I cured you.”

      “I know,” said the young lady, “but we must have time to make proper announcement in the society papers and have the wedding cards engraved. Call tomorrow and we’ll talk it over.”

      The glass-blower had not impressed her favorably as a husband, and she was glad to find an excuse for getting rid of him for a time[18]. And she did not want to miss the Fritters’ reception.

      Yet the man went home filled with joy; for he thought his stratagem had succeeded and he was about to marry a rich wife who would keep him in luxury forever afterward.

      The first thing he did on reaching his room was to smash his glass-blowing tools and throw them out of the window.

      He then sat down to figure out ways of spending his wife’s money.

      The following day he called upon Miss Mydas, who was reading a novel and eating chocolate creams as happily as if she had never been ill in her life.

      “Where did you get the magic compound that cured me?” she asked.

      “From a learned wizard,” said he; and then, thinking it would interest her, he told how he had made the glass dog for the wizard, and how it barked and kept everybody from bothering him.

      “How delightful!” she said. “I’ve always wanted a glass dog that could bark.”

      “But there is only one in the world,” he answered, “and it belongs to the wizard.”

      “You must buy it for me,” said the lady.

      “The wizard cares nothing for money,” replied the glass-blower.

      “Then you must steal it for me,” she retorted. “I can never live happily another day unless I have a glass dog that can bark.”

      The glass-blower was much distressed at this, but said he would see what he could do. For a man should always try to please his wife, and Miss Mydas has promised to marry him within a week.

      On his way home he purchased a heavy sack, and when he passed the wizard’s door and the pink glass dog ran out to bark at him he threw the sack over the dog, tied the opening with a piece of twine, and carried him away to his own room.

      The next day he sent the sack by a messenger boy to Miss Mydas, with his compliments, and later in the afternoon he called upon her in person, feeling quite sure he would be received with gratitude for stealing the dog she so greatly desired.

      But when he came to the door and the butler opened it, what was his amazement to see the glass dog rush out and begin barking at him furiously.

      “Call off your dog,” he shouted, in terror.

      “I can’t, sir,” answered the butler. “My young lady has ordered the glass dog to bark whenever you call here. You’d better look out, sir,” he added, “for if it bites you, you may have glassophobia!”

      This so frightened the poor glass-blower that he went away hurriedly. But he stopped at a drug store and put his last dime in the telephone box so he could talk to Miss Mydas without being bitten by the dog.

      “Give me Pelf 6742!” he called.

      “Hello! What is it?” said a voice.

      “I want to speak with Miss Mydas,” said the glassblower.

      Presently a sweet voice said: “This is Miss Mydas. What is it?”

      “Why have you treated me so cruelly and set the glass dog on me[19]?” asked the poor fellow.

      “Well, to tell the truth,” said the lady, “I don’t like your looks. Your cheeks are pale and baggy, your hair is coarse and long, your eyes are small and red, your hands are big and rough, and you are bow-legged.”

      “But I can’t help my looks!” pleaded the glassblower; “and you really promised to marry me.”

      “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?[20]” 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,

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