The Dresser

'The tailor replied "Simpkin, we
shall make our fortune, but I am worn
to a ravelling. Take this groat (which
is our last fourpence) and Simpkin,
take a china pipkin; buy a penn'orth
of bread, a penn'orth of milk and a
penn'orth of sausages. And oh, Simp-
kin, with the last penny of our four-
pence buy me one penn'orth of cherry-
coloured silk. But do not lose the
last penny of the fourpence, Simpkin,
or I am undone and worn to a thread-
paper, for I have NO MORE TWIST."


The tailor was very tired and beginning
to be ill. He sat down by the
hearth and talked to himself about
that wonderful coat.
Then the tailor started ; for suddenly
interrupting him, from the
dresser at the other side of the kitchen
came a number of little noises -

Tip tap, tip tap, tip tap tip!

"Now what can that be?" said the
Tailor of Gloucester, jumping up from
his chair. The dresser was covered
with crockery and pipkins, willow
pattern plates, and tea-cups and mugs.

The tailor crossed the kitchen, and
stood quite still beside the dresser,
listening, and peering through his
spectacles. Again from under a tea-
cup, came those funny little noises

Tip tap, tip tap, tip tap tip!
And then from all over the dresser
came a chorus of little tappings, all
sounding together, and answering one
another, like watch-beetles in an old
worm-eaten window-shutter

Tip tap, tip tap, tip tap tip!

And out from under tea-cups and
from under bowls and basins, stepped
other and more little mice who hopped
away down off the dresser and under
the wainscot.

Simpkin opened the door and
bounced in, with an angry "G-r-r-
miaw!" like a cat that is vexed; for
he hated the snow, and there was snow
in his ears, and snow in his collar at
the back of his neck. He put down
the loaf and the sausages upon the
dresser, and sniffed.

"Simpkin," said the tailor, "where
is my twist?"

But Simpkin set down the pipkin
of milk upon the dresser, and looked
suspiciously at the tea-cups. He wanted
his supper of little fat mouse !

"Simpkin," said the tailor, "where
is my TWIST?"

But Simpkin hid a little parcel privately
in the tea-pot, and spit and
growled at the tailor ; and if Simpkin
had been able to talk, he would have
asked: "Where is my MOUSE?"
"Alack, I am undone!" said the
Tailor of Gloucester, and went sadly
to bed'

[Beatrix Potter]