Beatrix Potter Books

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But although he sewed fine silk for his neighbours, he himself was
very, very poor—a little old man in spectacles, with a pinched face,
old crooked fingers, and a suit of thread-bare clothes.
He cut his coats without waste, according to his embroidered cloth;
they were very small ends and snippets that lay about upon the
table—"Too narrow breadths for nought—except waistcoats for
mice," said the tailor.