ALL the good people who were gathered around the table
of the Sign of Mother Goose sat thinking for a while over the
story. As for Boots, he buried his face in the quart pot and
took a long, long pull at the ale.

“Methinks,” said the Soldier who cheated the Devil,
presently breaking silence— methinks there be very few of
the women folk who do their share of this story-telling. So
Jar we have had but one, and that is Lady Cinderella. I
see another one present, and I drink to her health.”

He winked his eye at Patient Grizale, beckoning towards
her with his quart pol, and took a long and hearty puil.
Then he banged his mug down upon the table. “ Fetch me
another glass, lass,” said he to little Brown Betty. “‘ Mean-
time, fair lady” —this he said to Patient Grizsle—* will you
not entertain us with some story of your own?”

“T know not,” said Patient Grizzle, that I can tell you
any story worth your hearing.”

“ Aye, ave, but you can,” said the Soldier who cheated the
Devil; “and, moreover, anything coming from betwixt such
red lips and such white leeth will be worth the listening to.”

Patient Grisgle smiled, and the brave little Tatlor, and the
Lad who fiddled for the Jew, and Hans and Bidpai and
Boots nodded approval.

“Aye,” said Ali Baba, “it is true enough that there have

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