The blow struck our tailor insensible; and when his eyes again unclosed it was broad daylight. For a moment he stared about him, wondering how he came to be there; then, remembering the extraordinary events of the previous night, he hastily felt in his pouch, and drew out the miraculous jewel. It flamed in the sunlight like a bright diamond eye, and Bartlemy almost fancied he caught it winking at him. This idea lasted but a moment, and having taken a long and delighted stare at the much-desired Gold Stone, he replaced it carefully in his pouch, and started straight for London. As he passed the newly-opened bakers' shops, he could not help wishing that he had a half-penny in the world, so that he might change it into a crown on the spot, and buy a basketful of hot rolls; but as the Gold Stone was not warranted to make money, he was forced to take it out in wishing. Fortunately one of the bakers, seeing him gaze hungrily at the hot bread, had the kindness to toss him a large roll; and, munching this, he arrived at his master's shop.
After the way in which he had been turned out, he hadn't much hope of getting in again, but, afraid of disobeying the goblin's injunctions, he entered with as much courage as he could muster, and found the other tailors stitching away as usual, while his master cut out a coat.
Bartlemy took his cap humbly off, saying, "Please, master, if you will employ me as a workman now, I think I can please you. Do try me; I will be industrious; indeed, I will."
"Oh," grumbled the master tailor, "sleeping out in the fields and going without supper and breakfast has done you good, has it? Well, take this coat and sit you down; but I warn you, beforehand, that if you are not more industrious than usual, I will lay my yardstick over your shoulder, and clear you out again."
Bartlemy took the work, and having planted himself on the shop-board[A] in his favorite place, near a window, he put on his thimble, threaded his needle with a grand flourish, and began to stitch away for dear life. He sewed faster and better than he had ever done before, and found, to his joy, that the goblin's promises had begun to be fulfilled in reality. But bad habits are not to be conquered as one would pull up weeds: though both must be torn up by the roots, one might weed three gardens in the time it takes to destroy one fault; and so, without really meaning it, Bartlemy at last began to ply his needle less briskly; his thoughts wandered; he took a stitch that was three times too long, then another in a wrong place, a third and fourth all askew, and finally the work came to a dead stand-still. But, thimbles and thread! what happened? The instant his hand stopped, a long yellow yardstick came flying through the window, with no one holding it, hit him such a thwack on the shins that he roared again with the pain, and instantly vanished.
"Why, what's the matter?" asked the other tailors, startled, as they well might be.
"Matter!" cried Bartlemy. "Why, didn't you see that—that horrible yardstick coming at me?"
At this they all laughed at him for a fool; for nobody but our tailor could perceive this terrific weapon, which was doubtless invisible to common eyes. His conscience whispered, however, that his punishment was a reminder from the friendly goblin, and accordingly he set to work with renewed diligence. After a while, lost in dreams of his approaching wealth, he stopped stitching again, when, like a flash, in came the yardstick, touched him up with a vengeance, and vanished as before; and so it continued all the time he was sewing: the watchful yardstick would only allow him to stop to thread his needle or turn the work.
When he had stitched all the seams, he laid the coat on the table and heated his goose, that he might smooth them. He took care to post himself a good way from the window, in order to get rid of the ferocious yardstick; but the goblin was not to be baffled thus. The moment he stopped ironing and began to count the flies on the ceiling, the goose seemed to carry his hand up with it—irresistibly—to the end of his nose, and gave it a good scorching! This was no joke, I can tell you, and in a very short time Bartlemy began so to dread the visits of his two enemies that he never left working a minute, and his needle dashed along like magic. By sunset the coat was done, and sewed in a manner vastly superior to the other tailors, who looked at him with envious eyes. "What! finish a whole coat in one day?" they cried; "we never could do so well! Goose and cabbage! friend Bartlemy! you must have the assistance of some fairy!"
Bartlemy made no answer, but taking the coat in hand, carried it to his master, who viewed it in the greatest astonishment. Never before had a coat been made in a single day, and stitched, too, more finely than anything he had ever seen; but, not wishing to raise his late 'prentice's ideas of himself, he merely grumbled out, "For a wonder you have done your work this time; so now take your wages, and be sure to come early Monday morn."