Once upon a time, there was an emperor who loved clothes more than anything else in the world. He had a different outfit for every hour of the day. While other rulers spent their time ruling, this emperor spent his time in front of the mirror.

One day, two clever tricksters arrived in the city. They claimed to be the finest weavers in all the land.

"We can make the most magnificent fabric you've ever seen," they told the emperor. "But it has a special quality — it's invisible to anyone who is foolish or unfit for their position."

The emperor's eyes lit up. "Wonderful! Not only will I have beautiful new clothes, but I'll be able to tell which of my advisors are fools!" He gave the tricksters a mountain of gold and silk thread and set them up in the finest workshop.

The two men set up their looms and pretended to weave, though there was nothing on the looms at all. They moved their hands back and forth through empty air, working late into the night.

The emperor sent his most trusted minister to check on their progress. The old minister walked into the workshop and stared at the empty looms. He couldn't see a thing.

"Oh no," he thought. "Does this mean I'm a fool? I can't let anyone know!" So he said, "How beautiful! What colors! What a pattern! I shall tell the emperor it's coming along wonderfully."

The emperor sent another official, and the same thing happened. The official saw nothing but was too afraid to say so. "Exquisite!" he declared.

Finally, the emperor himself went to see the fabric. He stared at the empty looms. His heart sank. He couldn't see anything at all.

"Am I a fool?" he thought. "Am I unfit to be emperor? This is terrible! No one must ever know."

"Magnificent!" he cried. "I shall wear this for the grand procession tomorrow!"

The night before the procession, the tricksters stayed up all night, pretending to cut and sew. They held up their scissors and snipped at the air. They threaded needles with nothing and sewed invisible seams.

"It's ready!" they announced. They helped the emperor into his new clothes, which is to say, they helped him into nothing at all. "So light!" they said. "It feels like wearing a spider's web. That's the mark of fine fabric."

The emperor stood before his mirror, wearing absolutely nothing. "How splendid I look," he said, because what else could he say?

The grand procession began. The emperor marched through the streets while the people lined up to watch. Everyone had heard about the magic fabric.

"Oh, how fine!" they called out. "What a perfect fit!" Nobody wanted to admit they couldn't see the clothes. Nobody wanted to be called a fool.

Then a small child, watching from their father's shoulders, said in a loud, clear voice:

"But he hasn't got anything on!"

The father tried to shush the child, but it was too late. The whisper spread through the crowd like wind through wheat. "The child is right. He hasn't got anything on!"

Soon everyone was saying it. The emperor heard them, and deep down, he knew they were right. But he lifted his chin, straightened his back, and kept walking, because the procession had to go on.

And the two tricksters? They were already long gone, with all the gold and silk thread.