The Tailor of Gloucester

We celebrate Christmas with a delightful reading of Beatrix Potter's classic, "The Tailor of Gloucester." Set against the backdrop of Gloucester's charming streets, this episode whisks us back to a time of elegance and artistry, where a humble tailor is faced with the daunting task of crafting a magnificent coat and waistcoat for the mayor, despite missing a crucial skein of cherry-colored silk. So snuggle up in your blankets and have sweet dreams. 

The music in this episode is Open Window by Franz Gordon.

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Dreamful is produced and hosted by Jordan Blair. Edited by Katie Sokolovska. Theme song by Joshua Snodgrass. Cover art by Jordan Blair. ©️ Dreamful LLC

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:21):
Welcome to Dreamful Podcast bedtime stories for
slumber.
I would like to start off thisspecial holiday episode by
thanking Rebecca Kozak, chrisCook and Becca.
Thank you all so much and Ihope you have the sweetest of
dreams and the happiest ofholidays.
Many of you have beenrequesting more Beatrix Potter

(00:45):
stories and I thought what abetter holiday gift to you than
to read a lovely Christmas storyby Beatrix Potter called the
Tailor of Gloucester.
So snuggle up in your blanketsand have sweet dreams.

(01:41):
In the time of swords andperiwigs and full-skirted coats
with flowered lapets, whengentlemen wore ruffles and
gold-laced waistcoats of pedosoiand taffeta, there lived a
tailor in Gloucester.
He sat in the window of alittle shop in Westgate Street,

(02:15):
cross-legged on a table, frommorning till dark, all day long,
while the light lasted.
He sewed and snippeted, piecingout his satin and pompadour and
lute, string Stuffed hadstrange names and they were very

(02:35):
expensive in the days of thetailor of Gloucester.
But although he sewed fine silkfor his neighbors, he himself
was very, very poor, a littleold man in spectacles with a
pinched face, old, crookedfingers and a suit of threadbare

(02:56):
clothes.
He cut his coats without waste.
According to his embroideredcloth they were very small ends
and snippets that lay about onthe table, two narrow breads for
naught, except waistcoats formice, said the tailor.

(03:20):
One bitter cold day nearChristmas time the tailor began
to make a coat, a coat ofcherry-colored corded silk

(03:45):
embroidered with pansies androses, and a cream-colored satin
waistcoat trimmed with gauzeand green worsted chenille for
the mayor of Gloucester.
The tailor worked and workedand he talked to himself.
He measured the silk and turnedit round and round and trimmed
it into shape with his shears.
The table was all littered withcherry-colored snippets no

(04:09):
breadth at all, and cut on thecross it is no breadth at all
tippets for mice and ribbons formobs for mice, said the tailor
of Gloucester, when thesnowflakes came down against the

(04:29):
small leaded window panes andshut out the light.
The tailor had done his day'swork and all the silk and satin
lay cut out upon the table.
There were twelve pieces forthe coat and four pieces for the
waistcoat and there were pocketflaps and cuffs and buttons,

(04:55):
all in order.
For the lining of the coatthere was a fine yellow taffeta
and for the buttonholes of thewaistcoat there was a
cherry-colored twist, andeverything was ready to sew
together in the morning.
All measured and sufficient,except that there was wanting

(05:19):
just one single skein ofcherry-colored twisted silk.
The tailor came out of his shopat dark for he did not sleep
there at nights.
He fastened the window andlocked the door and took away
the key.
No one lived there at night,but little brown mice, and they

(05:43):
run in and out without any keys.
For behind the wooden wainscotsof all the old houses in
Gloucester there are littlemouse staircases and secret trap
doors and the mice run fromhouse to house through those
long, narrow passages.

(06:03):
They can run all over townwithout going into the streets.
But the tailor came out of hisshop and shuffled home through
the snow.
He lived quite nearby, inCollege Court, next to the
doorway to College Green, andalthough it was not a big house,

(06:35):
the tailor was so poor he onlyrented the kitchen.
He lived alone with his cat atwork.
Simpkin kept house by himselfand he was also fond of the mice
, though he gave them no satinfor coats.

(06:56):
Meow, said the cat when thetailor opened the door.
Meow, said the cat when thetailor opened the door.
Meow, the tailor repliedSimpkin, we shall make our
fortune, but I am warned who areraveling?
Take this groat which is ourlast four pence.

(07:19):
And Simpkin, take a chinapipkin, buy a pen of the bread,
a pen worth of milk and a penworth of sausages and, oh,

(07:42):
simpkin, with the last penny ofour fourpence.
Simkin, or I am undone and wornto a thread of paper or I have
no more twist.
Then Simkin again said yeah,and he took the groat and the

(08:03):
pipkin and went out into thedark.
The tailor was very tired andbeginning to be ill.
He sat down by the hearth andtalked to himself about that
wonderful coat I shall make myfortune to be cut by us.

(08:26):
The mayor of Gloucester is tobe married on Christmas day in
the morning and he hath ordereda coat and an embroidered
waistcoat to be lined withyellow taffeta.
And the taffeta sufficeth.
There is no more left over insnippets than will serve to make

(08:47):
tippets from ice.
Then the tailor started forsuddenly interrupting him, from
the dresser at the other side ofthe kitchen came a number of
little noises Tip-tap, tip-tap,tip-tap-tip.
Now what can that be said?

(09:11):
The tailor of Gloucesterjumping up from his chair.
The dresser was covered withcrockery and pipkins, willow
pattern plates and teacups andmugs.
The tailor crossed the kitchenand stood quite still beside the
dresser listening and peeringthrough his spectacles.

(09:35):
Again, from under a teacup camethose funny little noises
Tip-tap, tip-tap, tip-tap-tip.
This is very peculiar, said thetailor of Gloucester.
And he lifted up the teacupwhich was upside down, out

(10:00):
stepped the little live ladymouse and made a curtsy to the
tailor.
Then she hopped away down offthe dresser and under the
wainscot.
The tailor sat down again by thefire, warming his poor cold
hands and mumbling to himselfthe wainscot is cut out from

(10:24):
peach-colored satin tambourstitch and rosebuds and
beautiful floss silk.
Was I wise to entrust my lastfour pence to Simkin One and
twenty buttonholes ofcherry-colored twist.
But all at once from thedresser there came other little

(10:47):
noises tip, tap, tip, tap, tip,tap, tip.
This is passing extraordinary,said the tailor of Gloucester,
and turned over another teacupwhich was upside down.
Out stepped a little gentlemanmouse and turned over another

(11:09):
teacup which was upside down.
Out stepped a little gentlemanmouse and made a bow to the
tailor.
And then from all over thedresser came a chorus of little
tappings, all sounding togetherand answering one another like
watch beetles in an oldworm-eaten window shutter

(11:29):
Tip-tap, tip-tap, tip-tap-tip.
And out from under teacups andfrom under bowls and basins
stepped other and more littlemice who hopped away down off
the dresser and under thewainscot.
The tailor sat down close overthe fire lamenting One and

(11:57):
twenty buttonholes ofcherry-colored silk to be
finished by noon of Saturday,and this, this is Tuesday
evening.
Was it right to let loose thosemice, undoubtedly the property
of Simkin Alack, I am undone for.
I have no more twist.

(12:21):
The little mice came out againand listened to the tailor.
They took notice of the patternof that wonderful coat.
They whispered to one anotherAbout the taffeta lining and
about the little mouse tippets.
And then all at once they allran away together down the

(12:44):
passage behind the wainscot,squeaking and calling to one
another as they ran from houseto house and not one mouse was
left in the tailor's kitchen andSimpkin came back with a pipkin
of milk.
Simpkin opened the door andbounced in with an angry Grima,

(13:12):
like a cat that is vexed, for hehated the snow and there was
snow in his ears and snow on hiscollar, at the back of his neck
.
He put down the loaf and thesausages upon the dresser and
sniffed.
Simpkin, said the tailor, whereis my twist?

(13:34):
But Simpkin set down the pipkinof milk upon the dresser and
looked suspiciously at theteacups.
He wanted his supper, fatlittle mouse, simpkin, said the
tailor, where is my twist?
But Simpkin hid a little parcelprivately in the teapot and

(14:01):
spit and growled at the tailorGloucester and went sadly to bed

(14:22):
.
All that night long Simpkinhunted and searched through the
kitchen, peeping into cupboardsand under the wainscot and into
the teapot where he had hiddenthat twist.
But still he never found amouse.

(14:45):
Whenever the tailor mutteredand talked in his sleep, simpkin
said Mia, grrr, and madestrange, horrid noises, as cats
do at night.
For the poor old tailor wasvery ill with fever, tossing and

(15:11):
turning in his four-post bed.
And still in his dreams hemumbled no more twist, no more
twist.
All that day he was ill, andthe next day and the next.

(15:32):
And what should become of thecherry-colored coat?
In the tailor shop in WestgateStreet the embroidered silk and
satin lay cut upon the table,one in twenty buttonholes.
And who should come to sew themwhen the window is barred and

(15:52):
the door was fast locked?
But that does not hinder thelittle brown mice.
They run in and out without anykeys through all the old houses
in Gloucester.
Out of doors the market folkswent trudging through the snow

(16:14):
to buy their geese and turkeysand to bake their Christmas pies
.
But there would be no Christmasdinner for Simpkin and the poor
old tailor of Gloucester.
The tailor lay ill for threedays and nights and then it was
Christmas Eve and very late atnight the moon climbed up over

(16:40):
the roofs and chimneys andlooked down over the gateway
into College Court.
There were no lights in thewindows nor any sound in the
houses.
All the city of Gloucester wasfast asleep under the snow.
And still Simpkin wanted hismice and he mewed as he stood

(17:06):
beside the four-post bed.
But it is in this old storythat all the beasts can talk in
the night between Christmas Eveand Christmas Day.
In the morning, though, thereare very few folk that can hear
them or know what it is thatthey say.

(17:30):
When the cathedral clock strucktwelve there was an answer like
an echo of the chimes, andSimpkin heard it.
It came out of the tailor'sdoor and wandered about in the
snow.
From all the roofs and gablesand old wooden houses in

(17:54):
Gloucester came a thousand merryvoices singing the old
Christmas rhymes, all the songsthat I ever heard of and some
that I don't know, likeWhittington's bells.
First and loudest the roostercried out Dame, get up and bake

(18:18):
your pies.
Oh, dilly, dilly, sighedsimpkin.
And now in a garret there werelights and sounds of dancing and
cats came from over the way.
Hey, diddle, diddle, the catand the fiddle, all the cats in

(18:40):
gloucester except me, saidSimpkin.
Under the wooden eaves, thestarlings and sparrows sang of
Christmas pies, the jackdawswoke up in the cathedral tower
and although it was the middleof the night, the throstles and
robins sang.
The air was quite full oflittle twittering tunes, but it

(19:07):
was all rather provoking to poor, hungry Simpkin Particularly.
He was vexed with some littleshrill voices from behind a
wooden lattice.
I think that they were bats,because they always have very
small voices, especially in ablack frost where they talk in

(19:29):
their sleep like the tailor ofGloucester.
They said something mysteriousthat sounded like they said
something mysterious thatsounded like Buzz quoth the
bluefly, hum, quoth the bee,buzz and hum.
They cry, and so do we, andSimkin went away shaking his

(20:01):
ears as if he had a bee in hisbonnet.
From the tailor's shop inWestgate came a glow of light,
and when Simpkin crept up topeep in the window it was full
of candles.
There was a snippeting ofscissors and a snappeting of
thread, and little mouse voicessing loudly and gaily.
Four and twenty tailors went tocatch a snail.

(20:25):
The best man amongst them durstnot touch her tail.
She put out her horns like alittle kyla crow Run, tailors,
run, or she'll have you all innow.
Then, without a pause, thelittle mouse voices went on
again Sieve my lady's oatmeal,grind my lady's flour, put it in

(20:52):
a chestnut, let it stand anhour.
Mew mew interrupted Simkin andhe scratched at the door, but
the key was under the tailor'spillow.
He could not get in.
The little mice only laughedand tried another tune.

(21:14):
Mew mew, cried Simkin.
Hey, diddle-dinkity, answeredthe little mice.
They clicked their thimbles tomark the time, but none of the
songs pleased Simkin.
He sniffed and mewed at thedoor of the shop.
Mew mew, scratch, scratch,scuffled Simpkin on the

(21:40):
windowsill while the little miceinside sprang to their feet and
all began to shout at once inlittle twittering voices no more
twist, no more twist.
And they barred up the windowshutters and shut out Simpkin.
But still through the nicks inthe shutters he could hear the

(22:06):
click of thimbles and littlemouse voices singing.
No more twist, no more twist.
Simpkin came away from the shopand went home, considering in
his mind, he found the poor oldtailor without fever, sleeping

(22:28):
peacefully.
Then Simpkin went on tiptoe andtook a little parcel of silk
out of the teapot and looked atit in the moonlight and he felt
quite ashamed of his badnesscompared with those good little
mice.
When the tailor awoke in themorning, the first thing which

(22:56):
he saw upon the patchwork quiltwas a skein of cherry-colored
twisted silk, and beside his bedstood the repentant Simkin.
Alack, I am worn to a raveling,said the tailor of Gloucester,

(23:18):
but I have my twist.
The sun was shining on the snowwhen the tailor got up and
dressed and came out into thestreet with Simpkin running
before him.
The starlings whistled on thechimney stacks and the throstles

(23:38):
and the robins sang, but theysang their own little noises,
not the words they had sung inthe night.
Alack, said the tailor, I havemy twist, but no more strength
nor time than will serve to makeme one single buttonhole.

(23:59):
For this is Christmas Day inthe morning.
The mayor of Gloucester shall bemarried by noon, and where is
his cherry-colored coat?
He unlocked the door of thelittle shop in Westgate Street
and Simpkin ran in like a catthat expects something.

(24:21):
But there was no one there, noteven one little brown mouse.
The bores were were all tidiedaway and gone from the floor.
But upon the table, oh joy, thetailor gave a shout.

(24:45):
There, where he had left plaincuttings of silk, there lay the
most beautifulest coat, anembroidered satin waistcoat as
were ever worn by a mayor ofGloucester.
There were roses and pansiesupon the facings of the coat,
and the waistcoat was workedwith poppies and cornflowers.

(25:08):
Everything was finished, exceptjust one single cherry-colored
buttonhole.
And where that buttonhole waswanting there was pinned a scrap
of paper with these words inlittle teeny-weeny writing no

(25:31):
More Twist.
And from then began the luck ofthe tailor of Gloucester.
He grew quite stout and he grewquite rich.
He made the most wonderfulwaistcoats for all the rich
merchants of Gloucester and forall the fine gentlemen of the

(25:53):
country round.
Never were seen such ruffles orsuch embroidered cuffs and
lappets.
But his buttonholes were thegreatest triumph of it all.
The stitches of thosebuttonholes were so neat, so

(26:14):
neat.
I wonder how they could bestitched by an old man in
spectacles with crooked oldfingers and a tailor's thimble.
No-transcript.