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 and 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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