s, and the tailor thought he might now set
up for a gentleman. So he bought cloth, made himself, in secret, a fine
cloak, coat, and breeches, and in these jackdaw adornments paraded
about the streets a whole morning, trying to appear an idle fine
gentleman. At last he strutted into the best inn, ordered a grand dinner
and a bottle of wine, and feasted like a lord.

But his time was coming. The watchful goblin, though not at his side,
knew perfectly well what he was about, and soon led him to betray his
quality most fatally. When the bill was brought him, it was so long and
so tremendous that Bartlemy sprang up in a rage, crying out:

"_Thimbles and thread!_ Do you call this a decent charge for your paltry
dinner?"

The landlord stared at him in astonishment; then, suddenly bursting
into a loud laugh, he cried, "Why, gentles all, this fine nobleman is
nothing but a tailor! ha! ha!" and he put his hands to his fat sides and
shook with laughter.

"Be silent, sirrah!" thundered Bartlemy; "or _I'll break my yardstick
over your shoulders_!"

"Ha! ha! only hear what he says!" laughed the landlord. "A miserable
tailor."

"If you do not stop your impertinence, I will _shear off your ears like
cloth clippings_!" retorted the angry tailor. "Goose and cabbage! man;
you shall not trifle with me!"

On this the landlord and waiters turned him bodily out of the house,
after seizing upon all his remaining money; and the moment he was in
the street, the knowledge of how he had betrayed himself broke upon his
mind. Mortified and miserable, he hurried home, determined, after this,
to stick to his trade and play fine gentleman no more.

The year at last drew to a close, and Bartlemy had now earned enough to
set up for a master tailor; when, one bright moonlight night, he
suddenly remembered that it was the very anniversary of his meeting with
the goblin. Starting up, he ran to where his pouch was placed, took out
the Gold Stone and enjoyed a long look at it, and then, throwing his
cloak around him, he hastened forth. The moonlight beamed brightly on
the path he was taking, and seemed to throw all sorts of queer shadows
before him; now it was an immense yardstick, now a thimble supported on
two needles like a pair of spindle legs, then a goose with a pair of
shears astride on the handle.

At last, as he paused under the old tree, he heard a familiar croaking
laugh, and found himself unexpectedly in the presence of Snippinbitz,
th