Then Simpkin went on tip-toe and took a little parcel of silk out of the tea-pot, and looked at it in the moonlight; and he felt quite ashamed of his badness compared with those good little mice!
When the tailor awoke in the morning, the first thing which he saw upon the patchwork quilt, was a skein of cherry-coloured twisted silk, and beside his bed stood the repentant Simpkin!
“Alack, I am worn to a ravelling,” said the Tailor of Gloucester, “but I have my twist!”
The sun was shining on the snow when the tailor got up and dressed, and came out into the street with Simpkin running before him.
The starlings whistled on the chimney stacks, and the throstles and robins sang — but they sang their own little noises, not the words they had sung in the night.
“Alack,” said the tailor, “I have my twist; but no more strength — nor time — than will serve to make me one single button-hole; for this is Christmas Day in the Morning! The Mayor of Gloucester shall be married by noon — and where is his cherry-coloured coat?”
He unlocked the door of the little shop in Westgate Street, and Simpkin ran in, like a cat that expects something
But there was no one there! Not even one little brown mouse!
The boards were swept clean; the little ends of thread and the little silk snippets were all tidied away, and gone from off the floor.
But upon the table — oh joy! the tailor gave a shout — there, where he had left plain cuttings of silk — there lay the most beautifullest coat and embroidered satin waistcoat that ever were worn by a Mayor of Gloucester.
There were roses and pansies upon the facings of the coat; and the waistcoat was worked with poppies and corn-flowers.
Everything was finished except just one single cherry-coloured button-hole, and where that button-hole was wanting there was pinned a scrap of paper with these words — in little teeny weeny writing —
NO MORE TWIST
And from then began the luck of the Tailor of Gloucester; he grew quite stout, and he grew quite rich.
He made the most wonderful waistcoats for all the rich merchants of Gloucester, and for all the fine gentlemen of the country round.
Never were seen such ruffles, or such embroidered cuffs and lappets! But his button-holes were the greatest triumph of it all.
The stitches of those button-holes were so neat — soneat — I wonder how they could be stitched by an old man in spectacles, with crooked old fingers, and a tailor’s thimble.
The stitches of those button-holes were so small — sosmall — they looked as if they had been made by little mice!

辛普金蹑手蹑脚地走到碗柜前，从茶壶里取出一小包捻线，在月光下细细打量着。想
起那些善良的小老鼠，他不禁为自己的行为感到羞愧。
第二天早上，裁缝一醒来，就在自己用碎布拼成的被子上看到一束卷好的樱桃色捻
线，辛普金正坐在他的床边，面带愧色。
“呜呜，虽然我筋疲力尽，”裁缝说，“但我有捻线了！”
裁缝起身穿上衣服，带着辛普金一前一后上了街。这时，太阳正在雪地上闪着耀眼的
光芒。
“噢，”裁缝说，“我有了捻线，可只有做一只纽扣扣眼的时间和力气了。现在已是圣诞
节的早上，格洛斯特市市长要在中午前结婚，到哪儿去找他的樱桃色外套啊？”
他打开西门大街的店门。辛普金马上充满期待地跑了进去。
里面什么也没有！那些棕色的小老鼠一只也不见了！
桌板被擦得干干净净，小线头和小布片被收拾得干干净净，门口也被打扫过了。
但是，就在台子上——天哪，简直太叫人开心了！——在台子上，裁缝放着裁好的绸
缎的位置，正摆放着最漂亮的外套和绣花缎纹马甲，随时等候着格洛斯特市市长的到来。
外套上绣着玫瑰和紫罗兰；马甲上装饰着罂粟花和玉米花。
一切都缝制得妥妥当当，除了一个樱桃色的纽扣扣眼。在那里别着一张小纸片，上面
用细得不能再细的字迹写着：
“没有捻线了。”
从那时开始，好运降临在格洛斯特的裁缝身上。他的身体越来越好，人也越来越富
有。
他为格洛斯特市所有的富商和全国的乡绅做最美的马甲。
这些褶边，还有那些绣花袖口和垂饰，都美得无与伦比！尽管如此，那些纽扣扣眼才
是最当之无愧的极品中的极品！
这些纽扣扣眼的针脚缝得多么整齐——我简直无法想象，一个戴着眼镜的老裁缝，用
他弯曲僵硬的手指和一个顶针，竟能创造出这样的奇迹！
这些纽扣扣眼的针脚缝得多么细致——看起来就像是一群小老鼠的杰作啊！
—完—

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