—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.