“In the course of my wanderings,” I began, “I arrived one day at a spring in the wilderness, beside which were encamped a company of--” _“I think,” said Solario, interrupting himself, “that I cannot conscientiously repeat this story, because--”_ _“Oh, please!” said Bojohn. “We’d like to hear it.”_ _“No,” said. Solario, “I couldn’t, conscientiously, because there is not a word of truth in the story, and I do not wish to tell anything which is not strictly true.”_ During my tale (said the Prince) I pretended now and then to take a sip of wine, and to grow drowsy, so that toward the end I seemed to have difficulty in keeping awake. When I had concluded, Babadag laughed and said, “I thank you, peddler. Never in my life have I heard such a tissue of--er--amusing facts. Some more wine, peddler.” I pretended to sip the wine again, and let my head fall forward on my breast, and roused myself as if with a great effort. “I am something,” said Babadag, appearing to take no notice of my drowsiness, “of a teller of tales myself. I will tell you in return a story, and when I have finished you shall tell me another, if you know any, as you undoubtedly do.” Thereupon he commenced a long and detailed story; and I could see that as he proceeded he was watching me from the corner of his eye. He had not spun out his tale very far when my eyes closed and my head nodded; and after an apparent effort to arouse myself I let my head fall forward on the table and lie there motionless. Babadag instantly stopped, raised my head gently, and laying it back against my chair shook me roughly, but with no effect. “Send in the accursed dogs,” said he in a fierce whisper. I was aware, in a moment, that the eight tailors were standing around me. “The eyebrows!” said Babadag, and the tailors bent over me and began to pluck at my eyebrows with instruments of some sort. “Oh, father, father,” said Figli, “please don’t!” “Be still, my son,” said Babadag. _The Magic Doublet Protects the Prince Against the Knitters of Eyebrows and Against Goolk the Spider_ I laughed inwardly, for I was sure that, under the protection of my doublet, my eyebrows would reappear as fast as they could be plucked out. And indeed, from the snort of rage given by Babadag, I soon knew that my eyebrows were safe. I could hear the eight tailors whispering together, as if in dismay. “Goolk!” said Babadag, in the same angry whisper, “sting me this false peddler!” “No, no, father,” said Figli. “Not that, oh, please!” I shivered a little, for I confess that the thought of the spider was horrifying to me. I waited anxiously, not daring to open my eyelids even a trifle. I assure you it was all I could do to remain still. There was silence, and in the midst of it I felt a tickling on my left cheek, and then a kind of pin-prick there, and I knew that the spider had stung me.