<p id="id00514" style="margin-top: 2em">THE TALE OF GINGER & PICKLES</p>
<p id="id00515">ONCE upon a time there was a village shop. The name over the window was<br/>
"Ginger and Pickles."<br/></p>
<p id="id00516">It was a little small shop just the right size for Dolls—Lucinda and<br/>
Jane Doll-cook always bought their groceries at Ginger and Pickles.<br/></p>
<p id="id00517">The counter inside was a convenient height for rabbits. Ginger and<br/>
Pickles sold red spotty pocket-handkerchiefs at a penny three farthings.<br/></p>
<p id="id00518">They also sold sugar, and snuff and galoshes.</p>
<p id="id00519">In fact, although it was such a small shop it sold nearly everything
—except a few things that you want in a hurry—like bootlaces,
hair-pins and mutton chops.</p>
<p id="id00520">Ginger and Pickles were the people who kept the shop. Ginger was a
yellow tom-cat, and Pickles was a terrier.</p>
<p id="id00521">The rabbits were always a little bit afraid of Pickles.</p>
<p id="id00522">The shop was also patronized by mice—only the mice were rather afraid
of Ginger.</p>
<p id="id00523">Ginger usually requested Pickles to serve them, because he said it made
his mouth water.</p>
<p id="id00524">"I cannot bear," said he, "to see them going out at the door carrying
their little parcels."</p>
<p id="id00525">"I have the same feeling about rats," replied Pickles, "but it would
never do to eat our own customers; they would leave us and go to Tabitha
Twitchit's."</p>
<p id="id00526">"On the contrary, they would go nowhere," replied Ginger gloomily.</p>
<p id="id00527">(Tabitha Twitchit kept the only other shop in the village. She did not
give credit.)</p>
<p id="id00528">Ginger and Pickles gave unlimited credit.</p>
<p id="id00529">Now the meaning of "credit" is this—when a customer buys a bar of soap,
instead of the customer pulling out a purse and paying for it—she says
she will pay another time.</p>
<p id="id00530">And Pickles makes a low bow and says, "With pleasure, madam," and it is
written down in a book.</p>
<p id="id00531">The customers come again and again, and buy quantities, in spite of
being afraid of Ginger and Pickles.</p>
<p id="id00532">But there is no money in what is called the "till."</p>
<p id="id00533">The customers came in crowds every day and bought quantities, especially
the toffee customers. But there was always no money; they never paid for
as much as a pennyworth of peppermints.</p>
<p id="id00534">But the sales were enormous, ten times as large as Tabitha Twitchit's.</p>
<p id="id00535">As there was always no money, Ginger and Pickles were obliged to eat
their own goods.</p>
<p id="id00536">Pickles ate biscuits and Ginger ate a dried haddock.</p>
<p id="id00537">They ate them by candle-light after the shop was closed.</p>
<p id="id00538">When it came to Jan. 1st there was still no money, and Pickles was
unable to buy a dog licence.</p>
<p id="id00539">"It is very unpleasant, I am afraid of the police," said Pickles.</p>
<p id="id00540">"It is your own fault for being a terrier; <i>I</i> do not require a licence,
and neither does Kep, the Collie dog."</p>
<p id="id00541">"It is very uncomfortable, I am afraid I shall be summoned. I have tried
in vain to get a licence upon credit at the Post Office;" said Pickles.
"The place is full of policemen. I met one as I was coming home."</p>
<p id="id00542">"Let us send in the bill again to Samuel Whiskers, Ginger, he owes 22/9
for bacon."</p>
<p id="id00543">"I do not believe that he intends to pay at all," replied Ginger.</p>
<p id="id00544">"And I feel sure that Anna Maria pockets things—Where are all the cream
crackers?" "You have eaten them yourself," replied Ginger.</p>
<p id="id00545">Ginger and Pickles retired into the back parlour.</p>
<p id="id00546">They did accounts. They added up sums and sums, and sums.</p>
<p id="id00547">"Samuel Whiskers has run up a bill as long as his tail; he has had an
ounce and three-quarters of snuff since October."</p>
<p id="id00548">"What is seven pounds of butter at 1/3, and a stick of sealing wax and
four matches?"</p>
<p id="id00549">"Send in all the bills again to everybody 'with compts'" replied Ginger.</p>
<p id="id00550">After a time they heard a noise in the shop, as if something had been
pushed in at the door. They came out of the back parlour. There was an
envelope lying on the counter, and a policeman writing in a note-book!</p>
<p id="id00551">Pickles nearly had a fit, he barked and he barked and made little
rushes.</p>
<p id="id00552">"Bite him, Pickles! bite him!" spluttered Ginger behind a sugar-barrel,
"he's only a German doll!"</p>
<p id="id00553">The policeman went on writing in his notebook; twice he put his pencil
in his mouth, and once he dipped it in the treacle.</p>
<p id="id00554">Pickles barked till he was hoarse. But still the policeman took no
notice. He had bead eyes, and his helmet was sewed on with stitches.</p>
<p id="id00555">At length on his last little rush—Pickles found that the shop was
empty. The policeman had disappeared.</p>
<p id="id00556">But the envelope remained.</p>
<p id="id00557">"Do you think that he has gone to fetch a real live policeman? I am
afraid it is a summons," said Pickles.</p>
<p id="id00558">"No," replied Ginger, who had opened the envelope, "it is the rates and
taxes, L 3 19 11 3/4."</p>
<p id="id00559">"This is the last straw," said Pickles, "let us close the shop."</p>
<p id="id00560">They put up the shutters, and left. But they have not removed from the
neighbourhood. In fact some people wish they had gone further.</p>
<p id="id00561">Ginger is living in the warren. I do not know what occupation he
pursues; he looks stout and comfortable.</p>
<p id="id00562">Pickles is at present a gamekeeper.</p>
<p id="id00563">The closing of the shop caused great inconvenience. Tabitha Twitchit
immediately raised the price of everything a half-penny; and she
continued to refuse to give credit.</p>
<p id="id00564">Of course there are the trades-men's carts—the butcher, the fishman and<br/>
Timothy Baker.<br/></p>
<p id="id00565">But a person cannot live on "seed wigs" and sponge-cake and
butter-buns—not even when the sponge-cake is as good as Timothy's!</p>
<p id="id00566">After a time Mr. John Dormouse and his daughter began to sell
peppermints and candles.</p>
<p id="id00567">But they did not keep "self-fitting sixes"; and it takes five mice to
carry one seven inch candle.</p>
<p id="id00568">Besides—the candles which they sell behave very strangely in warm
weather.</p>
<p id="id00569">And Miss Dormouse refused to take back the ends when they were brought
back to her with complaints.</p>
<p id="id00570">And when Mr. John Dormouse was complained to, he stayed in bed, and
would say nothing but "very snug;" which is not the way to carry on a
retail business.</p>
<p id="id00571">So everybody was pleased when Sally Henny Penny sent out a printed
poster to say that she was going to re-open the shop—"Henny's Opening
Sale! Grand co-operative Jumble! Penny's penny prices! Come buy, come
try, come buy!"</p>
<p id="id00572">The poster really was most 'ticing.</p>
<p id="id00573">There was a rush upon the opening day. The shop was crammed with
customers, and there were crowds of mice upon the biscuit canisters.</p>
<p id="id00574">Sally Henny Penny gets rather flustered when she tries to count out
change, and she insists on being paid cash; but she is quite harmless.</p>
<p id="id00575">And she has laid in a remarkable assortment of bargains.</p>
<p id="id00576">There is something to please everybody.</p>
<h5 id="id00577">THE END</h5>
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