es not go well. I am all alone, and am
getting old, and a workman is costly.'

'But haven't you a son who could learn your trade by degrees?' asked
Jem.

'I had one: he was called Jem, and would have been a tall sturdy lad
of twenty by this time, and able to help me well. Why, when he was only
twelve he was quite sharp and quick, and had learnt many little things,
and a good-looking boy too, and pleasant, so that customers were taken
by him. Well, well! so goes the world!'

'But where is your son?' asked Jem, with a trembling voice.

'Heaven only knows!' replied the man; 'seven years ago he was stolen
from the market-place, and we have heard no more of him.'

'SEVEN YEARS AGO!' cried Jem, with horror.

'Yes, indeed, seven years ago, though it seems but yesterday that my
wife came back howling and crying, and saying the child had not come
back all day. I always thought and said that something of the kind would
happen. Jem was a beautiful boy, and everyone made much of him, and
my wife was so proud of him, and liked him to carry the vegetables and
things to grand folks' houses, where he was petted and made much of. But
I used to say, "Take care--the town is large, there are plenty of bad
people in it--keep a sharp eye on Jem." And so it happened; for one day
an old woman came and bought a lot of things--more than she could carry;
so my wife, being a kindly soul, lent her the boy, and--we have never
seen him since.'

'And that was seven years ago, you say?'

'Yes, seven years: we had him cried--we went from house to house. Many
knew the pretty boy, and were fond of him, but it was all in vain. No
one seemed to know the old woman who bought the vegetables either; only
one old woman, who is ninety years old, said it might have been the
fairy Herbaline, who came into the town once in every fifty years to buy
things.'

As his father spoke, things grew clearer to Jem's mind, and he saw now
that he had not been dreaming, but had really served the old woman seven
years in the shape of a squirrel. As he thought it over rage filled his
heart. Seven years of his youth had been stolen from him, and what had
he got in return? To learn to rub up cocoa nuts, and to polish glass
floors, and to be taught cooking by guinea pigs! He stood there
thinking, till at last his father asked him:

'Is there anything I can do for you, young gentleman? Shall I make you a
pair of slippers, or perhaps' with a smile--'a case for your nose?'