irds' eggs, and berries, and never thinking of their
lost golden leaves, or their journey to the Court.

In the meantime Spare had got up and missed his doublet. Tinseltoes, of
course, said he knew nothing about it. The whole palace was searched,
and every servant questioned, till all the Court wondered why such a
fuss was made about an old leathern doublet. That very day, things came
back to their old fashion. Quarrels began among the lords, and envies
among the ladies. The King said his people did not pay him half enough
taxes, the Queen wanted more jewels, the servants took to their old
quarrels and got up some new ones.

Spare found himself getting strangely dull, and very much out of place.
Nobles began to ask what business a cobbler had at the King's table, and
His Majesty ordered the palace records to be searched to find out if
such a thing had ever taken place before. The cobbler was too wise to
tell all he had lost with that doublet; but as by this time he knew the
Court customs, he offered a reward of fifty gold pieces to anyone who
would bring him news about it.

Scarcely was this made known in the city, when the gates and outer
courts of the palace were filled by men, women, and children--some
bringing leathern doublets of every cut and colour, some with tales of
what they had heard and seen in their walks round about the palace. So
much news about all sorts of great people came out of these stories,
that lords and ladies ran to complain of Spare as one who spoke against
people. His Majesty, being now sure that there was no example in all the
palace records of such a retainer, sent forth a decree sending the
cobbler away for ever from the Court, and giving all his goods to the
page Tinseltoes.

That royal decree was hardly issued before the page had taken for
himself Spare's rich room, his costly garments, and all the presents the
people at Court had given him. While Spare, having no longer the fifty
pieces of gold to give, was glad to make his escape out of a back
window, for fear of the nobles, who vowed to have revenge on him, and
the crowd, who were ready to stone him for cheating them about his
doublet.

The window from which Spare let himself down with a strong rope, was
that from which Tinseltoes had tossed the doublet; and as the cobbler
came down late in the twilight, a poor woodman, with a heavy load of
fagots, stopped and stared at him in great surprise.

"What is the matter, friend?" asked