e slipped it on his finger--and that is what we do
not all of us do. After that he never took it off again, and the world
went smoothly with him. He was not rich, but then he was not poor; he
was not merry, neither was he sad. He always had enough and was thankful
for it, for I never yet knew wisdom to go begging or crying.

So he went his way and he fished his fish, and twelve months and a week
or more passed by. Then one day he went past the baker shop and there
sat Selim the Baker smoking his pipe of tobacco.

"So, friend," said Selim the Fisherman, "you are back again in the old
place, I see."

"Yes," said the other Selim; "awhile ago I was a king, and now I
am nothing but a baker again. As for that gold ring with the red
stone--they may say it is Luck's Ring if they choose, but when next I
wear it may I be hanged."

Thereupon he told Selim the Fisherman the story of what had happened to
him with all its ins and outs, just as I have told it to you.

"Well!" said Selim the Fisherman, "I should like to have a sight of that
island myself. If you want the ring no longer, just let me have it; for
maybe if I wear it something of the kind will happen to me."

"You may have it," said Selim the Baker. "Yonder it is, and you are
welcome to it."

So Selim the Fisherman put on the ring, and then went his way about his
own business.

That night, as he came home carrying his nets over his shoulder, whom
should he meet but the little old man in gray, with the white beard and
the black cap on his head and the long staff in his hand.

"Is your name Selim?" said the little man, just as he had done to Selim
the Baker.

"Yes," said Selim; "it is."

"And do you wear a gold ring with a red stone?" said the little old man,
just as he had said before.

"Yes," said Selim; "I do."

"Then come with me," said the little old man, "and I will show you the
wonder of the world."

Selim the Fisherman remembered all that Selim the Baker had told him,
and he took no two thoughts as to what to do. Down he tumbled his nets,
and away he went after the other as fast as his legs could carry him.
Here they went and there they went, up crooked streets and lanes and
down by-ways and alley-ways, until at last they came to the same garden
to which Selim the Baker had been brought. Then the old man knocked at
the gate three times and cried out in a loud voice, "Open! Open! Open to
Selim who wears the Ring of Luck!"

Then the gate opened, and