“What!” cried the glass-blower, throwing down the rope, “have you really such a thing?” “Yes, indeed. Whoever takes the powder will become the most beautiful person in the world.” “If you will offer that as a reward,” said the glass-blower, eagerly, “I’ll try to find the dog for you, for above everything else I long to be beautiful.” “But I warn you the beauty will only be skin deep,” said the wizard. “That’s all right,” replied the happy glass-blower; “when I lose my skin I shan’t care to remain beautiful.” “Then tell me where to find my dog and you shall have the powder,” promised the wizard. So the glass-blower went out and pretended to search, and by-and-by he returned and said: “I’ve discovered the dog. You will find him in the mansion of Miss Mydas.” The wizard went at once to see if this were true, and, sure enough, the glass dog ran out and began barking at him. Then the wizard spread out his hands and chanted a magic spell which sent the dog fast asleep, when he picked him up and carried him to his own room on the top floor of the tenement house. Afterward he carried the Beauty Powder to the glass-blower as a reward, and the fellow immediately swallowed it and became the most beautiful man in the world. The next time he called upon Miss Mydas there was no dog to bark at him, and when the young lady saw him she fell in love with his beauty at once. “If only you were a count or a prince,” she sighed, “I’d willingly marry you.” “But I am a prince,” he answered; “the Prince of Dogblowers.” “Ah!” said she; “then if you are willing to accept an allowance of four dollars a week I’ll order the wedding cards engraved.” The man hesitated, but when he thought of the rope hanging from his bedpost he consented to the terms. So they were married, and the bride was very jealous of her husband’s beauty and led him a dog’s life. So he managed to get into debt and made her miserable in turn. As for the glass dog, the wizard set him barking again by means of his wizardness and put him outside his door. I suppose he is there yet, and am rather sorry, for I should like to consult the wizard about the moral to this story. THE QUEEN OF QUOK A king once died, as kings are apt to do, being as liable to shortness of breath as other mortals. It was high time this king abandoned his earth life, for he had lived in a sadly extravagant manner, and his subjects could spare him without the slightest inconvenience.