shriller and shriller and Jerry Jan working away all the while, as calm as a hitching post in a storm. Well, when they had said all they could think of—Jerry yawned and stretched, then went and rang a bell. In bobbed a little serving maid. Without so much as a nod from her master she took the visitors' hats and shabby cloaks, drew up a table and in just no time at all had brought cake and wine and all manner of good things to eat.
"Ha—h!" chuckled Jerry, rubbing his hands, and next thing they were seated about the table chatting away as pleasantly as friends at a birthday feast. And not until the town clock struck ten, did Jerry refer to his guest's unpleasant entrance and only then to inquire the name of the fine gentleman whom he had offended. Immediately the three tailors grew fidgety. Exchanging uneasy glances they explained how they had come to warn him against the wrath of My Lord of Toppertush.
"Just as one man to another now, tha should'na have spoken so!" protested the second tailor shaking his head solemnly. "A terrible fellow, with power enough at court to make a man smart!" asserted the third. "Did'st see his velvet cloak?—the price has been owing me this twelve month—and now—now he'll never pay it!" whimpered the first, growing excited again. Whereupon Jerry lost his temper and harangued them fiercely for their cravenness. Yes—he had seen the cloak—and to his way of thinking his Lordship had more velvet on his back than on his tongue, which he'd a mind to tell him next time they met.
"Exalt your trade!" cried Jerry Jan. He shook his finger under their astonished noses—were they men, he would like to know—or mice. "Put starch in your collars and yardsticks down your backs and buckram in your knees if need be and ye'll pass for men yet!" Much shaken the three arose, much mystified and pondering upon these words they departed.
Meanwhile My Lord of Toppertush had returned to
