The Birmingham age-herald., 1908-12-27


 less art which makes the tales of the great Arabic, Persian and Indian story tellers so perfect.
 IN a considerable city of Germany
 there once dwelled an honest shoe A maker with his wife. He sat all day at the corner of the street patching shoes and slippers or, sometimes, making new ones on the rare occasions when any one happened to give him such an order; but this was not often. for he was too poor to have a good supply of leather and other attractive materials to tempt GUS toners.
 His wife sold vegetables and fruits, which she cultivated in a little garden beyond the city gate. People liked to trade with her because she was always neat and clean and knew how to display her wares.
 The good couple had one son. a tall handsome lad of 12. He often helped his mothers customers to carry the pur- chases home, and generally he returned with little gift, for the rich people liked to see the boy.
 One day the shoemaker's wife sat in her place as usual. Before her was an array of baskets containing cabbages and other vegetables, fragrant herbs and early pears and apples. Little Jacob sat be- side her and helped her cry her wares from time to time.
 Suddenly an old woman crossed the market place She was rather ragged of dress, had little, sharp face, wrinkled by age, red eyes and a pointed, curved nose that seemed trying to reach her chin. She supported herself with a long stick, but one could not say just how she moved. She limped, slid and stag gered as if she had wheels on her legs and was on the point every minute of topping forward and smiting the pave ment with her hooked nose.
 The shoemaker's wife looked at the woman with great curiosity. She had been in the market every day for 16 years and never had seen the strange figure before. She shrank involuntarily when the old crone limped to her place and stood before her baskets. Are you Hannah, the vegetable wom- an?' asked the creature with a horrible, creaking voice, while her head wagged and trembed continually.
 "Yes," answered Hannah. Gan I serve you?"
 we shall see, we shall see'' replied the woman. She bent ovGr the baskets and darted pair of uglJ brown hands into the pretty display of herbs, clutched the dainty things with long fingers that looked terribly like spiders legs, and sniffed at them with her long nose. The shoemakers wife was aggrieyed at the rough treatment that was accorded to her precious herbs, but she felt an odd hor- TOT of the woman that forbade her to voice any objections.
 When the hag had clawed over the whole basket she muttered: Poor stuff, miserable greensl Nothing at all that I want. Things were much better 50 years ago. Poor stuff Miserable herbs!" Her speech angered little Jacob. You are rude old woman!" cried hein child ish wrath. First you crush our pretty herbs with your nasty brown fingers, then you hold them to your long nose so
 
 you call our wares miserable stuff, al- though the Grand Dukes cook purchases everything that he uses from us''
 The old woman squinted evilly at the lad, cackled hoarsely, and crooked: Lit tie son! Little sonl So you are not pleased with my nose, my long, pretty nose? You shall have one yourself to reach below your chin"
 She slid and tottered to the other basket and took up the beautiful cab bages, squeezed them till they groaned, tossed them back roughly into the basket and repeated, Poor stuff Miserable wares"
 Don't waggle your head sol" ex- claimed the boy. Your neck is as thin as a cabbage stalk, and if it breaks off and your head falls into the basket, no one will buy our thingsr'
 DO you not admire them. the long, thin necks?" croaked the hag. You shall have none at all. Your head shall sit be- tween your shoulders, hard and fast, that 1t may not fall from your little body"
 Don't talk such nonsense!" cried the shoemaker's wife. If you intend to buy anything, please do it. You are driving away all my customers"
 Every well!' said the old woman, shoot ing a furious glance at Hannah, "I will buy six cabbages; but I cannot carry them myself. You must send your son home with me. I will pay him for it."
 Jacob did not wish to go. He sobbed, for he was mortally afraid of the hid eous woman; hut his mother ordered him to go, for she esteemed 1t a sin to burden an old person with such a load. Still half crying he obeyed, wrapped the cab bage in a sack and followed the crone.
 She moved very slowly and it was all most three quarters of an hour before they arrived at very distant and lonely quarter of the town and stopped before . little, half-ruinous house.
 She drew a rusty hook from her pock- ct thrust it skillfully into the keyhole and the door sprang open with startling crack. What was little Jacobs surprise when he entered. The interior of the old house was splendid with marble walls and ceilings, while the furniture was of the finest teak and ebony and inlaid with rold and precious stones. The floor was of glass and co wonderfully smooth that Jacob slipped and fell several times.
 The old woman drew silver whistle from her dress and sounded a deafening peal Instantly number of guinea pigs