"Fine new jam for sale," sang out an old woman, as she walked along
the street.
"Jam! I can't resist such a treat," said the tailor; and, running to
the door, he shouted, "This way for jam, dame; show me a pot of your
very finest."
The woman handed him jar after jar, but he found fault with all. At
last he hit upon some to his liking.
"And how many pounds will you take, sir?"
"I'll take four ounces," he replied, in a solemn tone, "and mind you
give me good weight."
The old woman was very angry, for she had expected to sell several
pounds, at least; and she went off grumbling, after she had weighed
out the four ounces.
"Now for a feed!" cried the little man, taking a loaf from the
cupboard as he spoke. He cut off a huge slice, and spread the jam on
quite half an inch thick; then he suddenly remembered his work.
"It will never do to get jam on the Lord Mayor's coat, so I'll finish
it off before I take even one bite," said he. So he picked up his work
once more, and his needle flew in and out like lightning.
I am afraid the Lord Mayor had some stitches in his garment that were
quite a quarter of an inch long.
The tailor glanced longingly at his slice of bread and jam once or
twice, but when he looked the third time it was quite covered with
flies, and a fine feast they were having off it.
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