important-looking Little Man, with a great white beard, sprang
forward and snatched them out of his hand.

"No, no," he shouted. "These are not fit for Martin to wear! They
will soil!" Saying which, he flung them down on that dusty floor
with its litter of cinders and dirt, and began to trample on them as
if in a great passion. Then he snatched them up again and shook them,
and all could see that they were unsoiled and just as bright and
beautiful as before. Then Martin tried to take them from him, but the
other would not let him.

"Never shall Martin wear such poor clothes," shouted the old man.
"They will not even keep out the wet," and with that he thrust them
into a great tub of water, and jumping in began treading them down
with his feet. But when he pulled them out again and shook them
before their faces, all saw that they were as dry and bright as
before.

"Give them to me!" cried Martin, thinking that it was all right now.

"Never shall Martin wear such poor clothes--they will not resist fire,"
cried the old man, and into the flames he flung them.

Martin now gave up all hopes of possessing them, and was ready to
burst into tears at their loss, when out of the fire they were
pulled again, and it was seen that the flames had not injured or
tarnished them in the least. Once more Martin put out his arms and
this time he was allowed to take those beautiful clothes, and then
just as he clasped them to him with a cry of delight he woke!