these things of which I have spoken were all spread out for show.

[Illustration: Dame Twist sees the little man in green for the last
time]

Then, lo and behold! who should she see, gliding here and there among
the crowd of other people, but the little man in green whom she had seen
a year ago. She opened her eyes mightily wide, for she saw that he was
doing a strange thing. By his side hung a little earthenware pot, and
in his hand he held a little wooden scraper, which he passed over the
rolls of butter, afterwards putting that which he scraped from the rolls
into the pot that hung beside him. Dame Margery peeped into the pot, and
saw that it was half full; then she could contain herself no longer.

"Hey-day, neighbor!" cried she, "here be pretty doings, truly! Out upon
thee, to go scraping good luck and full measure off of other folks'
butter!"

When the little man in green heard the dame speak to him, he was so
amazed that he nearly dropped his wooden scraper. "Why, Dame Margery!
can you see me then?"

"Aye, marry can I! And what you are about doing also; out upon you, say
I!"

"And did you not rub your eyes with the red salve then?" said the little
man.

"One eye, yes, but one eye, no," said the dame, slyly.

"Which eye do you see me with?" said he.

"With this eye, gossip, and very clearly, I would have you know," and
she pointed to her right eye.

Then the little man swelled out his cheeks until they were like two
little brown dumplings. Puff! he blew a breath into the good dame's eye.
Puff! he blew, and if the dame's eye had been a candle, the light of it
could not have gone out sooner.

The dame felt no smart, but she might wink and wink, and wink again, but
she would never wink sight into the eye upon which the little man had
blown his breath, for it was blind as the stone wall back of the mill,
where Tom the tinker kissed the miller's daughter.

Dame Margery Twist never greatly missed the sight of that eye; but all
the same, I would give both of mine for it.

All of these things are told at Tavistock town even to this day; and if
you go thither, you may hear them for yourself.

But I say again, as I said at first: if one could
only hold one's tongue as to what one sees,
one would be the better for it.

[Illustration: YE SONG OF YE GOSSIPS. This is a full page illustrated
poem depicting: the three old maids gossiping at a table, the two old
maids gossiping as the other leaves,