e without anything at all.

[Illustration: At last he flew into a violent rage and flung his stick
at the bird]

But he was glad the stick had stuck in a tree, for Mrs. Vinegar's hands
were quite hard enough.

When it was all over Mr. Vinegar said cheerfully, "You are too violent,
lovey. You broke the pickle-jar, and now you've nearly broken every bone
in my body. I think we had better turn over a new leaf and begin
afresh. I shall take service as a gardener, and you can go as a
housemaid, until we have enough money to buy a new pickle-jar. There are
as good ones in the shop as ever came out of it."

And that is the story of Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar.

[Illustration: And that is the story of Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar]

THE TRUE HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS THUMB

At the court of great King Arthur, who lived, as all know, when knights
were bold, and ladies were fair indeed, one of the most renowned of men
was the wizard Merlin. Never before or since was there such another. All
that was to be known of wizardry he knew, and his advice was ever good
and kindly.

Now once when he was travelling in the guise of a beggar, he chanced
upon an honest ploughman and his wife who, giving him a hearty welcome,
supplied him, cheerfully, with a big wooden bowl of fresh milk and some
coarse brown bread on a wooden platter. Still, though both they and the
little cottage where they dwelt were neat and tidy, Merlin noticed that
neither the husband nor the wife seemed happy; and when he asked the
cause they said it was because they had no children.

"Had I but a son, no matter if he were no bigger than my goodman's
thumb," said the poor woman, "we should be quite content."

Now this idea of a boy no bigger than a man's thumb so tickled Wizard
Merlin's fancy that he promised straight away that such a son should
come in due time to bring the good couple content. This done, he went
off at once to pay a visit to the Queen of the Fairies, since he felt
that the little people would best be able to carry out his promise. And,
sure enough, the droll fancy of a mannikin no bigger than his father's
thumb tickled the Fairy Queen also, and she set about the task at once.

So behold the ploughman and his wife as happy as King and Queen over the
tiniest of tiny babies; and all the happier because the Fairy Queen,
anxious to see the little fellow, flew in at the window, bringing with
her clothes fit for the wee mannikin to wear.

An oak-leaf hat he