scare-crow to frighten the blackbirds. 

                Peter never stopped running or looked behind him till he got home to the big fir-tree. He was so tired that he flopped down upon the nice soft sand on the floor of the rabbit-hole, and shut his eyes. His mother was busy cooking; she wondered what he had done with his clothes. It was the second little jacket and pair of shoes that Peter had lost in a fortnight! I am sorry to say that Peter was not                very well during the evening. His mother put him to bed, and made some camomile tea; and she gave a dose of it to Peter!                 "One table-spoonful to be taken at bed-time."                 But Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail had bread and milk and blackberries for supper. 

  

  

       THE TAILOR OF GLOUCESTER     

                "I'll be at charges for a looking-glass; And entertain a score or two of tailors."                [Richard III]                 My Dear Freda:                 Because you are fond of fairytales, and have been ill, I have made you a story all for yourself—a new one that nobody has read before. And the queerest thing about it is—that I heard it in Gloucestershire, and that it is true—at least about the tailor, the waistcoat, and the                               "No more twist!"                Christmas 

                In the time of swords and peri wigs and full-skirted coats with flowered                lappets—when gentlemen wore ruffles, and gold-laced waistcoats of paduasoy and taffeta—there lived a tailor in Gloucester. He sat in the window of a little shop in Westgate Street, cross-legged on a table from morning till dark. All day long while the light lasted he sewed and snippetted, piecing out his satin, and pompadour, and lutestring; stuffs had strange names, and were very expensive in the days of the Tailor of Gloucester. But although he sewed fine silk for his neighbours, 

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