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 day as this, when the roads are filled with vagabonds and robbers?"

"My wife is in good hands," declared the tailor, "for our wealthy neighbor, Mads, promised to take care of her, and—"

"—And in the mean time you are forced to prick with your needle this whole splendid summer day!"

"A tailor must attend to his duties," said the shrivelled little fellow, looking helplessly into the blacksmith's large face with the blinking eyes and the curly beard. "When I was a boy I dreamed of becoming a great warrior. I was to win a golden helmet and ride on a stately steed, followed by a hundred brave men. Nothing ever came of it!"

"Why should you not yet live to see your dream realized?" pursued his friend, and nodded smilingly at him.

"I know one thing!" cried the tailor, straightening himself and striking his breast. "I possess a lion's courage and the force of a bear. Blood cannot frighten me! How often have I pricked my fingers with a needle without feeling either fear or pain! And oh, how I yet dream! Often I slay dragons and serpents and other fearful beasts, the very names of which would frighten you."

"Were I in your place," answered the blacksmith, "I would at once throw these rags aside and jump from the table, go into the wide world, seek those great monsters you spoke of, and slay them—slay them!"