“Excuse me, Mr. Cinnamon, but where did you get your seven-league boots?” asked the Vinegar Cruet.
“They grew on me, so I didn’t need to buy them. You can’t tease me that way. I can’t help it because I am long legged any more than you can help looking sour. When you turn sweet I’ll have short legs; that’s a bargain. Send me an invitation to your candy pull.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, please excuse this rude interruption, and I will proceed.
“When the cinnamon trees are almost two years old small branches are cut off and the outer bark removed, leaving the inner bark, which is then peeled off and dried.
“In drying it takes the form of rolls called quills, the smaller ones, as they dry, are thrust into the larger. Sometimes it is ground fine and packed in bags.
“I am not only used in flavouring food, but in many medicines.
“Now I think the spices have finished their tales, and we can have a complete change of programme.”
“Oh!” cried Allspice, “before we go on let’s have the Story Sprite again.”
“Is it your desire that the Story Sprite appear?” asked Cinnamon Stick. “If so, Allspice and I will break this wishbone I see hanging over the hearth.”