A synthetic folk tale, with standardized folk-type cartoons featuring geese, cozy peasant huts, and a Bartholemew-Cubbins-type hat. The boy, who wants to be a hero like the ones in his old mother's stories, occupies himself in the meantime playing his fiddle and admiring himself in the mirror. When at last he sets off on his own, he finds himself chased by a pair of detached legs and pulled into a cottage by a loose pair of arms. It's his chance to be a hero all right, but the witch who comes together from these spare parts has in mind a hero sandwich. (How she ever heard of hero sandwiches is less a problem than what kids in Michigan or Manitoba will make of the term.) Lewis ties the story up with the would-be hero's method of escape: he puts out his mirror to distract the head, and his fiddle to keep the arms busy and the legs dancing, as he runs off. Neat, but without spark or substance--rather like an assignment methodically fulfilled.