The tailor sat down again by the fire, warming his poor cold hands, and
mumbling to himself----
"The waistcoat is cut out from peach-coloured satin--tambour stitch and
rose-buds in beautiful floss silk. Was I wise to entrust my last fourpence
to Simpkin? One-and-twenty button-holes of cherry-coloured twist!"
But all at once, from the dresser, there came other little noises:
_Tip tap, tip tap, tip tap tip!_
"This is passing extraordinary!" said the Tailor of Gloucester, and
turned over another tea-cup, which was upside down.
[Illustration]
Out stepped a little gentleman mouse, and made a bow to the tailor!
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.
[Illustration]
The tailor sat down, close over the fire, lamenting--"One-and-twenty
button-holes of cherry-coloured silk! To be finished by noon of
Saturday: and this is Tuesday evening.
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