in preparation for Christmas, this confectioner was surveying the day's handiwork. He was particularly pleased with two little sugar figures he had fashioned; they represented a lady and her gallant in Spanish dress, each draped in the heavy folds of a cloak. He was interrupted by a knock at the door, and in came two figures, in Spanish dress, cloak and all, a lady and her cavalier. The only thing strange about them were their faces: they were like masks, beautiful indeed, but lifeless. However, the couple were quite amiable; they took the proffered seats, and the gallant spoke. "Have you, good master [gramercies, gadzooks, etc., according to taste], a couple of sugar figures in Spanish dress, each draped in a cloak?" "Zounds!" or something equally effective (in Czech, please) from the confectioner, "here is the very article!" The little figures gave satisfaction; the gallant purchased them with much fine gold, then proffered a request for a favour in return. "Granted," or words to that effect, from the confectioner. "As it happens," continued the gallant, "we have lost our heads, and would be much obliged if you would recover them for us. You see, we called here about a hundred years ago and were murdered in our beds, here in this house. It was your great-grandfather's doing; he was a bit peevish that evening. We had arrived with all our trunks, had searched the whole town for lodgings; every place was crowded. Some one advised us to call here. The old gentleman, after a deal of grumbling, showed us into a room, the first floor front. I feel sure he really never liked us; in fact, we were no sooner asleep than he came in and cut our heads off. He put our bodies in one of our trunks, the contents of which he kept as souvenirs; you know he was a great collector. He mislaid our heads, and we have suffered much inconvenience in consequence. The ones we are wearing now are not real ones--wax, you know; quite good of their kind, but not what we have been used to. If you would be good enough to look around for those heads, put them in a coffin with our bodies and have our whole outfit decently buried, we should feel much relieved. By the way, our old trunks are somewhere about the premises still, down in the cellar; your great-grandfather was always keen on cold-storage--a collector should be." The confectioner promised to see to this little matter, the visitors tried to get up a smile of gratitude, and faded away. Right enough, after searching diligently amongst his ancestor's collection, the confectioner found the missing articles, carried out the instructions given him by his visitors, and never saw them again. They have left Prague for good and all, I gather.