The Old Mans Bag | Page 2

said the red policeman, "what have you got in that bag?"
"Nothing," said the old man.
"Oh, you wicked old person," said the red policeman. "You know perfectly well that you have a hen in it. But you must come back with me, and we will soon find out."
So the red policeman took the old man back to the place where he had dropped the bag. The bag was there, and the red policeman picked it up and opened it with great care. But the hen had got away. There was a big hole in the corner of the bag, and through this the hen had squeezed herself and run home as fast as ever she could. When the policeman found that the bag was empty he looked much puzzled. The old man for his part smiled a great deal. "I told you there was nothing in it," he said.
The red policeman said, "Well, I expect I shall have to let you go this time. BUT MIND YOU DON'T DO IT AGAIN."
And the old man went home quite cheerfully with his bag under his arm.
CHAPTER II.
When the old man got home to his house in the wood he hung the bag up tidily on a nail. Then he sat down in a chair and began to laugh. He laughed for nearly a quarter of an hour by the clock. At length his wife came in to him from the garden and said,
"Whatever are you laughing at?"
[Illustration: "Whatever are you laughing at?"]
"Oh," replied the old man, holding his sides, "I am so amused!" Then he went on laughing. He laughed so much indeed that the tears came into his eyes and he nearly choked. His wife had to pat his back and give him a drink of water to put him right.
Then he told her what had happened. How he had put a hen in his bag, how the red policeman had run after him, how he dropped the bag and let the policeman catch him, and how when the policeman took him back to the bag, the hen was gone.
"Did she open the bag and fly away?" said the old woman.
"No," said the old man. "She got out through that hole in the corner."
"Ah," said the old woman, "I must sew up that hole."
And she took the bag down from its nail and sewed up the hole. For she was a very neat woman and she did not like to see holes in bags.
[Illustration: She took the bag down and sewed up the hole.]
CHAPTER III.
The next day was market day. On market day people who have butter or cheese to sell take it into the market to sell it. And 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.
[Illustration: "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