forest, rejoicing in the discovery that he is no kin of Mimmy's,
and need have no more to do with him when the sword is mended.

Poor Mimmy is now in a worse plight than ever; for he has long
ago found that the sword utterly defies his skill: the steel will
yield neither to his hammer nor to his furnace. Just then there
walks into his cave a Wanderer, in a blue mantle, spear in hand,
with one eye concealed by the brim of his wide hat. Mimmy, not by
nature hospitable, tries to drive him away; but the Wanderer
announces himself as a wise man, who can tell his host, in
emergency, what it most concerns him to know. Mimmy, taking this
offer in high dudgeon, because it implies that his visitor's wits
are better than his own, offers to tell the wise one something
that HE does not know: to wit, the way to the door. The
imperturbable Wanderer's reply is to sit down and challenge the
dwarf to a trial of wit. He wagers his head against Mimmy's that
he will answer any three questions the dwarf can put to him.

Now here were Mimmy's opportunity, had he only the wit to ask
what he wants to know, instead of pretending to know everything
already. It is above all things needful to him at this moment to
find out how that sword can be mended; and there has just dropped
in upon him in his need the one person who can tell him. In such
circumstances a wise man would hasten to show to his visitor his
three deepest ignorances, and ask him to dispel them. The dwarf,
being a crafty fool, desiring only to detect ignorance in his
guest, asks him for information on the three points on which he
is proudest of being thoroughly well instructed himself. His
three questions are, Who dwell under the earth? Who dwell on the
earth? and Who dwell in the cloudy heights above? The Wanderer,