and jars and dust and cobwebs, and three grinning skulls upon the
mantelpiece, each with a candle stuck atop of it, and there he
left the soldier while he went to get the hundred dollars.

The soldier sat him down upon a three-legged stool in the corner
and began staring about him; and he liked the looks of the place
as little as any he had seen in all of his life, for it smelled
musty and dusty, it did: the three skulls grinned at him, and he
began to think that the little old man was no better than he
should be. "I wish," says he, at last, "that instead of being
here I might be well out of my scrape and in a safe place."

Now the little old man in scarlet was a great magician, and there
was little or nothing in that house that had not some magic about
it, and of all things the three-legged stool had been conjured
the most.

"I wish that instead of being here I might be well out of my
scrape, and in a safe place." That was what the soldier said; and
hardly had the words left his lips when--whisk! whir!--away
flew the stool through the window, so suddenly that the soldier
had only just time enough to gripe it tight by the legs to save
himself from falling. Whir! whiz!--away it flew like a bullet.
Up and up it went--so high in the air that the earth below
looked like a black blanket spread out in the night; and then
down it came again, with the soldier still griping tight to the
legs, until at last it settled as light as a feather upon a
balcony of the king's palace; and when the soldier caught his
wind again he found himself without a hat, and with hardly any
wits in his head.