put it between his teeth, and bit down on it. The metal was soft, which proved that it contained silver. He thrust it into his pocket and said, “All right, I will take it. But you still need to clean up the mess.”

“Let me go and get some rags and a mop,” said the farmer. “I will be right back.”

“No,” said the shopkeeper. “I want you to clean it up right away. It smells so bad that I am going to be sick. Take off your coat and wipe up the mess.”

“Please don’t ask me to do that!” cried the farmer. “This is the only quilted coat I have, and if I use it to wipe up the mess, it will be ruined. I won’t be able to wear it anymore.”

“That’s your problem, not mine!” said the shopkeeper. “In fact, the coat you are wearing is no better than rags. If you don’t do what I say, I am going to take you to court.”

The farmer pleaded with him to reconsider, but the shopkeeper would not relent.

Just then they heard, “Make way for the magistrate! Make way for the magistrate!”