What's the podcast? It's all going to be all right
in the end. You've got some worries, my
dearly. Rest your busy minds, because
it's finally time. The Stories from Now.
Hello, everybody, and welcome back to Stories From Now and
Then. My name is Captain Blunderface,
and we're back in the old library here going through a
bunch of books about fashion right now.
So we've got, what do we have here?
OK, Pants for ants looks interesting.
What about this one, Coats for goats.
That seems warm. What about this one?
Hats for cats? Yeah, I thought so.
You might like the pictures in this one, Deprecatus.
Also, whatever happened to your Robin Hood hat that I made you?
You put it through the washing machine?
Actually, that's fine. The washing machine's OK.
But wait, did you put it through the dryer?
Oh, let's see. Yeah, it shrunk.
Maybe we could find a mouse to give it to now.
Well, before we do that and before we get suited up for
today's story, we have a shout out for Simon in Guelph ON.
He loves building things with tools, Lego, and anything else
he can get his hands on. Simon, this story is for you.
Oh, and it looks like we just got a message from our sponsor.
Today's episode is sponsored by Guest Getter.
They help restaurants bring in guests and keep them coming
back, which is great because I personally forget where I like
to eat unless someone reminds me.
Guest Getter helps restaurants do that, but you know, on
purpose. Check them out, Guest getter.co.
And with that, it is now story time.
Nicola, please take it from here.
Thank you very much, Captain. Today we've got a story about
dressing up, which can be very fun.
And it's also a story about worrying.
Worrying what people will think of you.
Have you ever done that? I do it sometimes.
OK, get cosy and let's start the Emperor's new clothes.
Many, many years ago, there lived an emperor who was so
monstrously fond of fine new clothes that he spent all his
money on being really smartly dressed.
He didn't care about his army. He didn't care for going to the
theatre or even for driving around the park in his carriage,
unless it was to show off his new clothes.
He had a different coat for every hour of the day.
And just as people say about a king that he's holding a meeting
with his council, in this country, they would always say
the emperor is in his dressing room.
In the great city where he lived, life was very pleasant.
Lots of strangers travelled there every day and one day
there arrived 2 swindlers. A swindler is another word for a
trickster, so they aren't very good people now.
These swindlers said that they were weavers and said they knew
how to make the loveliest clothes and fabrics that could
possibly be imagined. Not only were the colours and
patterns extraordinarily pretty, but the clothes that were made
of the stuff had this marvelous quality to them that they were
invisible to anyone who was either not good enough for his
job or else was not smart or clever at all.
Very excellent clothes those must be, thought the Emperor.
If I wore them, I could tell which are the men in my Kingdom
who aren't fit for the jobs they hold.
I could tell clever people from the not very smart ones.
To be sure. That stuff must be made for me
immediately. Accordingly, he gave the two
swindlers a large sum of money in advance so that they might
begin their work. They set up two looms and
pretended to be working, but they hadn't a scrap of thread on
the looms. In hot haste they demanded the
finest of silk and the best of gold, which they stuffed into
their own pockets, and they worked away at the empty looms
till very late at night. I should like to know how
they're getting on with the stuff, thought the Emperor.
But to tell the truth, he had a little hesitation when he
thought that anyone who was not clever or not good at his job
wouldn't be able to see the cloth.
Of course he was confident that he didn't need to be afraid for
himself, but all the same he decided to send someone else 1st
to see how things were. Everybody in the whole city had
heard what a marvellous power was in this cloth, and everybody
was so curious to see how incompetent and how silly
everybody else might be. I'll send my good old minister
down to the weavers, thought the Emperor.
He can quite well see how the stuff is coming together.
He's an intelligent man, and no one is better at his job than
he. So the worthy old minister went
into the hall where the two swindlers were sitting working
at the empty loom. Heaven help us, thought the old
minister, staring with all his eyes.
I can't see a thing. But he didn't say so both the
swindlers begged him to please step nearer, and asked if here
was not a pretty pattern and beautiful colours.
And they pointed to the empty looms, And the poor old minister
kept staring at it, but he couldn't see anything, because
there was nothing to be seen. Gracious goodness, thought he,
am I not very smart? I never thought so, and nobody
must get to know it. Can I be bad at my job?
No, no, it won't do for me to say that I can't see the stuff.
Well, have you nothing to say about it, Said the one who was
weaving. Oh, it's charming, most
delightful, said the old minister, looking through his
spectacles. The pattern, the colour.
Yes indeed, I must tell the Emperor.
I am infinitely pleased with it. We are glad indeed to hear it,
said both the weavers, and proceeded to describe the
colours and the unusual pattern. The old minister listened
carefully so that he might be able to repeat it when he went
back to the Emperor. And so he did.
The swindlers now demanded more money and more silk and more
gold to be used in the weaving. They took it all for themselves.
Not a thread was put up, but they went on as before, weaving
at the empty loom. Very soon the Emperor sent
another honest official over to see how the weaving progressed
and whether the stuff would be ready soon.
He fared just like the minister. He looked and looked, but as
there was nothing there but the empty loom, nothing could be
seen. Well, isn't that a fine piece of
stuff? Said both the swindlers,
exhibiting and explaining the lovely patterns that weren't
there at all. I am clever, thought the man.
It must be my nice job that I'm not good enough, for that would
be a terrible thing. But I mustn't let people notice
anything. Whereupon he praised the stuff
which he couldn't see, and assured them of his pleasure in
the pretty colours and the exquisite pattern.
Yes, it is positively stunning, he told the Emperor.
Everybody in the city was talking of the splendid stuff.
At last the Emperor decided to see it while it was still on the
loom, with a large team of his assistants, among them the two
worthy officials who had been there before.
He went over to the two clever swindlers who were now weaving
with all their might, only without a scrap of a thread.
Now is not that magnificent, Said both the worthy officials.
Will your Majesty just look at the beauty of the pattern and
the colours? And they pointed to the bare
loom for the guest, that all the rest of the people there could
certainly see the stuff. What's the meaning of this,
thought the Emperor? I can't see a thing.
This is terrible. Am I not a clever man?
Am I not fit to be Emperor? That would be the most frightful
thing that could befall me. Oh, it's very pretty.
It has my utmost approval, said he, nodding complacently and
gazing at the empty loom. Of course he wouldn't say he
could see nothing. The whole of the team he had
with him looked and looked, but got no more out of that than the
rest. However, they said, as the
Emperor had said, oh, it's very pretty.
And they advised him to put on this splendid new stuff for the
first time for the occasion of a great procession or parade which
was to take place shortly. Magnificent, exquisite,
excellent, went from mouth to mouth.
The whole company was in the highest state of gratification.
The Emperor gave each of the swindlers a Knight's Cross medal
to pin on his jacket and the title of Gentleman in weaving.
The whole night before the day of the procession, the swindlers
stayed up and had dozens of candles lit so they could keep
working while it was dark. People could see they were hard
pressed to get the Emperor's new clothes finished.
They pretended to be taking the stuff off the loom.
They snipped with scissors in the air, they sewed with a
needle without thread, and finally they said, look, now the
clothes are finished. The Emperor, with the noblest of
his personal attendants, came there himself.
Each of the swindlers raised an arm in the air, as if holding
something up, and said, See, here are the trousers, this is
the coat, this is the Cape, and so on.
It is as light as a spider's web.
You would feel like you had nothing whatever on, but that
is, of course, the beauty of it. Yes, said all the attendants,
but they couldn't see anything, for there was nothing to be
seen. Will your Imperial Majesty be
graciously pleased to take off your clothes, said the
swindlers. We can then put the new ones
upon you here before the large mirror.
The Emperor took off all his clothes, and the swindlers
behaved as if they were handing him each piece of the new suit
which was supposed to have been made, and they put their hands
around his waist and pretended to tie something securely.
It was the long train. The Emperor turned and twisted
himself in front of the mirror. Oh, how well it fits, how
beautifully it trails, said everyone.
The pattern, the colours, it is indeed a noble outfit.
They are waiting outside with the canopy which is to be borne
over your Majesty in the procession, said the chief
master of the ceremonies. Very well, I am ready, said the
Emperor. Doesn't it set well?
Once more he turned about in front of the mirror so that it
looks like he was really admiring his clothes.
The Lords in waiting, who were to carry the train, fumble with
their hands in the direction of the floor, as if they were
picking the train up. They walked on, holding the air.
They didn't want anyone to notice that they could see
nothing at all. So the Emperor walked in the
procession under the beautiful canopy, and everybody in the
streets and at the windows said, Ah, how splendid the emperor's
new clothes are. What a lovely train he has on
his coat, what a beautiful fit it is.
Nobody wanted to be the one who could see nothing.
That would mean that he was no good at his job, or that he
wasn't very clever. None of the emperor's outfits
had ever been such a success. But he hasn't got anything on,
said a little child. Oh, just listen to the child,
said his father. But people began to whisper to
each other what the child had said.
That little child there says he hasn't got anything on.
Why he hasn't got anything on? The whole crowd was shouting at
last, and the Emperor got a sudden chill all over, for he
felt they must be right. But all the same, he thought to
himself, I must go through with the procession.
So he held himself more proudly than before, and the Lords in
waiting walked on behind him, carrying the train.
The train that wasn't there at all.
Can you believe that those swindlers managed to trick the
entire Kingdom? The only one who was brave
enough to just say what he saw was that little child at the
parade, and that was when everybody started to realise the
trick that had been played on them.
Poor Emperor was so focused on having the best clothes and
being the most beautifully dressed that he forgot what's
really important. I like to think that he learned
a really good lesson from this and he stopped spending all his
money on silly things like invisible clothes.
But what do you think? Thanks Nicola.
I'm curious about what you all think as well.
Why don't you send us a message to let us know?
Would you be like the kid who spoke up and said what everybody
was thinking? What would you say?
Drop us a message on Instagram at Stories from now and then.
You could also get a shout out on a future episode.
Our show is narrated by Nicola Ward, music by yours truly, and
the show is listened to by the coolest kids on the planet.
Stay sharp out there and we'll see you next time on Stories
from Now and Then.