They were all struggling to get possession of a small closed basket, and it was like a game of football with hundreds of persons all playing, all fighting for possession of the ball.

At length one of them succeeded in getting hold of the basket and escaping from all the others who opposed him, and running to Martin he threw it down at his feet, and lifting the lid displayed to his sight a bundle of the most beautiful clothes ever seen by child or man.
With a glad cry Martin pulled them out, but the next moment a very important-looking Little Man, with a great white beard, sprang forward and snatched them out of his hand.
"No, no," he shouted.

"These are not fit for Martin to wear! They will soil!" Saying which, he flung them down on that dusty floor with its litter of cinders and dirt, and began to trample on them as if in a great passion.

Then he snatched them up again and shook them, and all could see that they were unsoiled and just as bright and beautiful as before.

Then Martin tried to take them from him, but the other would not let him.
"Never shall Martin wear such poor clothes," shouted the old man.
"They will not even keep out the wet," and with that he thrust them into a great tub of water, and jumping in began treading them down with his feet.