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—to cut off her right foot, boil away the flesh, and sell the precious Golden Bones.

“Here is what I have been keeping for my old age,” she said, bestowing the money upon her son. “Use this wisely for it costs me dearly to give.”

The Tailor was a bit muddled with ale and didn't see well, but he did notice how she limped now on a crutch.

“Been dallying with the Devil, Mama?” he inquired. “That rascal made off with your foot. Shall I chase him and bring it back?”

The Widow laughed and pinched her love-struck boy. “Oh, my dear, if I pointed out the Devil, you wouldn't know him.”

“I wonder,” said the man.