But the Englishmen did not even know what _molva_ was. They whispered together, and winked at one another, and kept repeating "_Molva_, _molva_" but they could not understand that such a sugar was made in our parts, and were obliged to confess that they had all sorts of sugar, but not _molva_. Platoff says: "Well, then, you have nothing to brag about. Come to us, and we will treat you to tea with real _molva_ from the Bobrinsky factories."[12] But the Emperor plucked him by the sleeve, and said softly: "Please don't ruin my politics." Then the Englishmen invited the Emperor to the last museum of all, where were collected all the mineral stones and nymfozoria[13] from the whole world, beginning with the hugest Egyptian Keramids,[14] and going down to the subcutaneous flea, which cannot be seen by the eye, though its bite is between the skin and the body. The Emperor went. They had inspected the Keramids and all sorts of stuffed animals, and were on their way out, and Platoff thinks to himself: "Now, glory to God, all is well--the Emperor admires nothing!" But no sooner had they reached the very last room, when lo! there stood workmen in their every-day waistcoats and aprons, holding a salver on which there was nothing at all. And the Emperor began to wonder what they were giving him on the empty salver. "What is the meaning of this?" he asks. And the English artisans reply: "This is a respectful gift from us to Your Majesty." "But what is it?" "Here," they say, "please to observe this tiny speck." The Emperor looked and saw that the tiniest sort of a speck really was lying upon the salver. The workmen say: "Please spit on your finger, and take it in your palm." "But what am I to do with this speck?" "It is not a speck," they answer, "but a nymfozoria." "Is it alive?" "Not at all," they reply; "it is not alive, but it has been forged by us in the image of a flea, out of pure English steel, and in the middle of it are works and a spring. Please wind it up with the little key; it will immediately begin to dance." The Emperor's curiosity was aroused, and he asked: "And where is the little key?" And the Englishmen said: "Here is the key, right before your eyes." "Why do not I see it?" says the Emperor. "Because," they reply, "a melkoscope is necessary." They gave him the melkoscope, and the Emperor saw that, beside the flea, on the silver salver, there actually lay a tiny key. "Please take it in your palm," said they. "There is a hole in its little belly to wind it, and the key must be turned seven times, and then it will begin to dance."