Many years ago there was an Emperor so exceedingly fond of new watches that he spent all his money on buying them. He cared nothing about reviewing his soldiers, going to the theatre, or going for a ride in his carriage, except to show off his new watches. He had a watch for every hour of the day, and instead of saying, as one might, about any other ruler, "The King's in council," here they always said. "The Emperor's in his watch room."
In the great city where he lived, life was always gay. Every day many strangers came to town, and among them one day came two swindlers. They let it be known they were watchmakers, and they said they could do the most magnificent watches imaginable. Not only were their finishing’s uncommonly fine, but watches made with this kind of finishing had a wonderful way of becoming invisible to anyone who was unfit for his office, or who was unusually stupid.
"Those would be just
the watches for me," thought the Emperor. "If I wore them I would be
able to discover which men in my empire are unfit for their posts. And I could
tell the wise men from the fools. Yes, I certainly must get at least one
specific watch made for me right away." He paid the two swindlers a large
sum of money to start work at once. ...