Some one knocked at the door, and, upon opening it, he saw the
wizard.

"I've lost my dog," he announced.

"Have you, indeed?" replied the glass-blower tying a knot in the
rope.

"Yes; some one has stolen him."

"That's too bad," declared the glass-blower, indifferently.

"You must make me another," said the wizard.

"But I cannot; I've thrown away my tools."

"Then what shall I do?" asked the wizard.

"I do not know, unless you offer a reward for the dog."

"But I have no money," said the wizard.

"Offer some of your compounds, then," suggested the glass-blower,
who was making a noose in the rope for his head to go through.

"The only thing I can spare," replied the wizard, thoughtfully, "is
a Beauty Powder."

"What!" cried the glass-blower, throwing down the rope, "have you
really such a thing?"