In the English city of Birmingham there lived a tailor by the name of Mr Talisman. He had a tailor’s workshop on the first floor of a grand building that belonged to him – right on the main street, if you please, though not in the centre – and a shop on the ground floor. If someone had their clothes made at Mr Talisman’s, it meant that they were a better class of people.

The Talismans had one son, Augustin, but only in a uniform in a framed photograph, because many years before he had been eaten by a leopard in Africa. That was perhaps the reason why Mr Talisman loved children so much, although Mrs Talisman could not stand the sight of them for the same reason. She looked after the shop and practically never went into the workshop, and if it was necessary to measure any girls over twelve years old for a dress, one of the seamstresses would do it.

When clothes were being made for children, the whole family would set off to the tailor’s. It looked like a trip to the doctor’s or to the photographer’s. However, this trip was a much more pleasant one. Although the children had to stand up straight as if they were at the photographer’s and not fidget when Mr Talisman was measuring them or trying new clothes on them, he then gave them some chewing gum as a reward. He was also referred to as little Mr Talisman because he was small in size, like a large baby.

(Translated by Graeme Dibble)