WITCHES' LOAVES

Miss Martha Meacham kept a little bakery on the corner. Miss Martha was forty and rather rich. She had two false teeth and a good heart. Many people had got married who had not so many chances as Miss Martha.

Two or three times a week a customer came to her bakery in whom she began to take an interest. He was a middle-aged man wearing glasses and a brown beard. His clothes were worn, but he looked neat and had good manners.

He always bought two loaves of stale bread. Fresh bread was five cents a loaf. Stale loaves were two for five. He never bought anything but stale bread. Miss Martha was trying to guess his occupation.

Once Miss Martha saw a red-and-brown spot on his fingers. She thought then that he was an artist and very poor. She was sure he lived in a small room, where he painted his pictures, and ate stale bread and thought of the good things to eat in Miss

Martha's bakery dinner she thought about the poor artist and wanted him to share her meal instead of eating his stale bread. Often now when Miss Martha sat down to her dinner she thought about the poor artist and wanted him to share her meal instead of eating his stale bread.

Miss Martha sighed deeply every time she thought of it, be­ cause her heart, as I have said, was a kind one.

She wasn't curious but she wanted to know more about the customer. One day, to find out his occupation, she brought from her room a painting she had bought at a sale and hung it on the wall.

Miss Martha was sure that if he was a painter, the picture would attract his attention. Two days later the customer came again.

"Two loaves of stale bread, if you please," he said as usual and added, "You've got a new picture, madam."

"Yes," said Miss Martha, "I like art and... (no, she did not dare to say 'artists' so early) and paintings. " She was afraid that he might notice how embarrassed she was and went on speak­ ing quickly. "Do you think it's a good picture?" she asked pointing to it.

"No, I'm afraid it isn't. I don't like the colours." He took his bread, said good-bye, and hurried out. Yes, her guess was right. He was an artist, just as she had suspected.

Often now when he came to her bakery, he talked for a while with Miss Martha. He was always very polite and nice to her. And he kept on buying stale bread, never a cake, never a pie. Miss Martha was too shy to offer him anything else.