“‘A saddle! What will I do with a saddle?’ asked the youngest son, whose name was Tip-Top.
“‘Make your fortune with it.’
“‘If I had a horse—’
“‘A head is better than a horse,’ the father replied.
“Not long after, the old man died. The land was divided up among the four older sons, and Tip-Top was left with the saddle. He slung it on his back and set out to make his fortune. It was not long before he came to a large town. He rested for a while and then he went into the town. He remembered that his father had said a head was better than a horse, so, instead of carrying the saddle on his back, he put it on his head. At first the people thought he was carrying the saddle because he had sold his horse for a good price, or because the animal had died. But he went through street after street still carrying the saddle on his head, never pausing to look around or to speak to anybody, and at last the people began to wonder. Some said he was a simpleton, some said he was a saddle-maker advertising his wares, and some said he was a tramp who ought to be arrested and put in the workhouse.
“This talk finally reached the ears of the Mayor of the town, and he sent for Tip-Top to appear before him.”
“What is a Mayor?” asked Sweetest Susan suddenly.
“He de head patter-roller,” said Drusilla, before anybody else could reply.
“That’s about right,” Mr. Thimblefinger declared. “Well, the Mayor sent for Tip-Top. But instead of going to the place where the Mayor held his court, Tip-Top inquired where his house was and went there. Now, when Tip-Top knocked at the Mayor’s door the servant, seeing the man with a saddle on his head, began to scold him.
“‘Do you think the Mayor keeps his harness in the parlor? Go in the side gate and carry the saddle in the cellar where it belongs. Hang it on the first peg you see.’