She said the formula, to satisfy them, but the door staid firmly shut.
Evidently the Chinese Ambassador would have to stay where he was until
morning, unless he had the Mayor snip his queue off, which was not to
be thought of.

So the Mayor, who was something of a philosopher, set about
accommodating himself, or rather his friend, to the situation.

"It is inevitable," said he to the Ambassador. "I am very sorry, but
everybody has to conform to the customs of the institutions of the
countries which they visit. I will go and get you some dinner, and an
extra coat. I will keep you company through the night, and morning
will come before you know it."

"Well," sighed the Chinese Ambassador, standing on tiptoe so his queue
should not pull so hard. He was a patient man, but after he had eaten
his dinner the time seemed terrible long.

"Why don't you talk?" said he to the Mayor, who was dozing beside him
in an easy-chair. "Can't you tell me a story?"

"I never did such a thing in my life," replied the Mayor, rousing
himself; "but I am very sorry for you, dear sir; perhaps the Patchwork
Woman can."

So he asked the Patchwork Woman through the keyhole.

"I never told a story in my life," said she; "but there's a boy here
that I heard telling a beautiful one the other day. Here, Julia,"
called she, "come and tell a story to the Chinese Ambassador."