people who have money and happen to want butter or cheese go into the market to buy it. The old man's wife had nothing to sell. Neither had she any money. But she wanted some butter very badly. So she took the old man's bag off the nail and carried it to market. She walked round the market with the bag under her arm and looked at all the stalls and enquired how much the strawberries were a pound; but she did not buy anything because she had no money. In a little while she came to a stall on which there were six rolls of fine fresh butter, and in front of them was a card on which the man who brought the butter to market had written—

Butter is Cheap To-Day.

"Butter is cheap to-day!"

"I am glad butter is cheap to-day," said the old woman to herself, and when the man who had brought the butter to market was not looking she picked up a roll and dropped it into her bag. Then she ran away as fast as she could.

When she got round the corner the red policeman saw her. He shouted out, "What have you got in that bag?"

"Nothing," said the old woman, still running.

But the policeman kept running after her. When they had run about five miles the old woman dropped the bag, so that she might run quicker. The policeman, however, had made up his mind to catch her, and when they had run about ten miles he caught her.

"Now," he said, "you must come back with me to your bag, and we will see if there is anything in it." The old man's wife said that she was sure there was nothing in it. "All right," said the policeman, "but if you don't mind we will go back and see." So they went back to the bag, and the policeman opened it with great care. Inside he found the roll of butter.

The old man's wife began to cry. "Oh dear, oh dear," she said, "what a pity it is that I sewed up that hole."

"Why?" asked the red policeman.

"Because if I had not sewn up the hole the butter might have got out, like my husband's hen."

"You are a very foolish old woman," said the policeman. "Do you not know that a roll of butter cannot walk like a hen?"

"You are a very foolish old woman."

"Is that really so?" said the old woman. "Well, well. But I have seen butter run when it was melted."

"Never mind that," said the red policeman, "you will have to come with me to prison."

"I am too busy to go with you just now," said the old woman, "and my husband wants the butter for his tea. But if you like to call for me in the morning and the weather is fine I will come with you with pleasure."

"You are very polite," said the red policeman. "If you had been rude I should have made you go with me now. As it is I will call for you in the morning providing it doesn't rain."

"Thank you so much," said the old woman.

And she shook the red policeman warmly by the hand and went off to her husband.

CHAPTER IV.

When she got home the old man was sat in his chair by the fire. She could see by his face that he was in a bad temper. But she went up to him and kissed him and said, "Please don't be grumpy, for I have brought you something very nice for your tea."

"What is it?" said the old man, "a hen?"

"No," she said, "people don't have hens for tea, do they?"

"Perhaps not," said the old man. "But if you had brought a hen she might have laid an egg, and I could have had that. You know very well that I am fond of new laid eggs."

"New laid eggs are all very fine," said the old woman, "but butter is cheap to-day. I have brought you a