In the time of swords and periwigs and full-skirted coats with flowered lappets-when gentlemen wore ruffles, and gold-laced waistcoats of paduasoy and taffeta-there lived a tailor in Gloucester.He sat in the window of a little shop in Westgate Street, cross-legged on a table, from morning till dark.All day long while the light lasted he sewed and snippeted, piecing out his satin and pompadour, and lutestring; stuffs had strange names, and were very expensive in the days of the Tailor of Gloucester.But although he sewed fine silk for his neighbours, he himself was very, very poor-a little old man in spectacles, with a pinched face, old crooked fingers, and a suit of thread-bare clothes.