But there was no one there! Not
even one little brown mouse!

But upon the table--oh joy! the
tailor gave a shout--there, where he
had left plain cuttings of silk--there
lay the most beautiful coat and
embroidered satin waistcoat that ever
were worn by a Mayor of Gloucester!


Everything was finished except just
one single cherry-coloured buttonhole,
and where that buttonhole was
wanting there was pinned a scrap of
paper with these words--in little
teeny weeny writing--

NO MORE TWIST.


And from then began the luck of
the Tailor of Gloucester; he grew quite
stout, and he grew quite rich.

He made the most wonderful
waistcoats for all the rich merchants
of Gloucester, and for all the fine
gentlemen of the country round.