I am afraid the Lord Mayor had some stitches in his garment that were quite a quarter of an inch long.
The tailor glanced longingly at his slice of bread and jam once or twice, but when he looked the third time it was quite covered with flies, and a fine feast they were having off it.
This was too much for the little fellow. Up he jumped, crying:
“So you think I provide bread and jam for you, indeed! Well, we’ll very soon see! Take that!” and he struck the flies such a heavy blow with a duster that no fewer than seven lay dead upon the table, while the others flew up to the ceiling in great haste.
“Seven at one blow!” said the little man with great pride. “Such a brave deed ought to be known all over the town, and it won’t be my fault if folks fail to hear of it.”
So he cut out a wide belt, and stitched on it in big golden letters the words “Seven at one blow.” When this was done he fastened it round him, crying:
“I’m cut out for something better than a tailor, it’s quite clear. I’m one of the world’s great heroes, and I’ll be off at once to seek my fortune.”
He glanced round the cottage, but there was nothing of value to take with him. The only thing he possessed in the world was a small cheese.
“You may as well come, too,” said he, stowing away the cheese in his pocket, “and now I’m off.”
When he got into the street the neighbors all crowded round him to read the words on his belt.