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The family lived well. 

The Tailor sank into a pleasant oblivion of drink. His wife bragged to anyone who would listen about how smartly she had married. 
The neighbors wondered and watched.

So much for them. What of the Tailor’s old mother? 

The Widow passed her days, limbless, next to the hearth fire, swathed in wraps to disguise her condition. The children played near her, and sometimes with her, pretending she was a baby or a pet, one they might carry about during their games. 

The first and second born were girls, and the littlest one, a boy. Such beautiful children!