She thought the Cherry-man quite wise. He was a
very pretty young fellow, and he brought cherries to sell in
graceful little straw baskets lined with moss. So she stood in the
kitchen-door, one morning, and told him all about the great trouble
that had come upon the city. He listened in great astonishment; he had
never heard of it before. He lived several miles out in the country.
"How did the Costumer look?" he asked respectfully; he thought
Violetta the most beautiful lady on earth.
Then Violetta described the Costumer, and told him of the unavailing
attempts that had been made to find him. There were a great many
detectives out, constantly at work.
"I know where he is!" said the Cherry-man. "He's up in one of my
cherry-trees. He's been living there ever since cherries were ripe,
and he won't come down."
Then Violetta ran and told her father in great excitement, and he at
once called a meeting of the Aldermen, and in a few hours half the
city was on the road to the Cherry-man's.
He had a beautiful orchard of cherry-trees, all laden with fruit.
And, sure enough, in one of the largest, way up amongst the topmost
branches, sat the Costumer in his red velvet short-clothes and his
diamond knee-buckles. He looked down between the green boughs.
"Good-morning, friends," he shouted.
The Aldermen shook their gold-headed canes at him, and the people
danced round the tree in a rage.
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