“And whose turn ts it now to tell a story?” said Doctor
faustus.

‘OTis his,” said the Lad who fiddled for the Jew, and he
pointed to Hans who traded and traded until he had traded
Ais lump of gold for an empty churn.

Hans grinned sheepishly. “ Well,” said he, “I never
did have luck at anything, and why, then, d'ye think I should
have luck at telling a story?”

“Nay, never mind that,” said Aladdin, “tell thy story,
Jriend, as best thou mayst.”

“Very well,” said Hans, “tf ye will have it, I well tell tt
to you: but, after all, it is no better than my own story, and
the poor man in the end gets no more than I did in my
bargains.”

“And what ts your story about, my friend?” said
Cinderella.

“Tis,” said Hans, “ about how—

252