Down at Osney Mead in oxford lived a carpenter called Oswald - a crusty old misery - just like him over there. But he had married a pretty young thing called Allison.

Now everyone was in love with Allison. She was as pert and pretty as a squirrel up a tree, though to tell the truth, she should not have flirted...

"Where's Nicholas?" said the Carpenter three days later. "He hasn't eaten with us since Monday."

Then Allison wrung her hands. "I'm worried about him, husband. He locked himself in his room on Monday with nothing to eat. He won't answer to knocking. He must be ill. But what can I do?"