With a nip and a snip, and snip and a nip,
And a very loud pip!
out came the little boy’s own little dog.
“Now I see through it all,” cried the nurse. And what she saw was what had really happened.
While the little dog was on his way to the little boy, a dog-seller snatched him up and carried him into a shop. There he tried to change him into a French poodle by sewing him into a skin-tight black jacket with curly trimming. But by great good luck it was down the street past this very shop the nurse walked and spied the little dog peeping out to see how he might escape.
“Oh, I’ll never forget thee again,” cried the little boy. And he didn’t. The two lived happy together ever after, and where one went the other followed.
—Angela M. Keyes
THE STORY OF THE TWO CAKES WHO LOVED EACH OTHER IN SILENCE
On the shop counter lay two gingerbread cakes. One was the shape of a man with a hat, the other of a maiden without a bonnet. Both their faces were on the side that was turned up, for they were to be looked at on that side, and not on the other. On the left the man wore a bitter almond—that was his heart. The maiden was honey-cake all over.