it,
comrade. Th' knight would be a-riding up at all times and in all
weather, and somehow 't gets out i' th' village (though not through my
lass, I warrant ye) as how he doth in verity seek to espouse my Keren.
Well, o' all th' tirrits and to-do's as e'er you heard on!

Methought when Mistress Lemon found out that th' girl had refused th'
gallant's offer th' house would be a tighter fit for us three than its
shell for an unhatched chick. 'Twas worry, worry, worry, from morn till
night, and from night till morn it was worry, worry, worry, till I
scarce knew whether 'twould be better to murder my wife and hang for 't,
or leave her alone and live with her.

"Th' hussy!" quoth she--"th' ungrateful hussy! a ought to be tossed in a
blanket," quoth she, "and thou along with her, thou jack-pudding, thou
ravelling!" quoth she.

"If I be a jack-pudding," saith I, "I ha' more descendants than most
such," saith I.

"Yea," quoth she, "verily," quoth she; "and all nine o' th' lads be
jacks," saith she, "and th' wench as very a pudding as e'er fell to
pieces for want o' being held together," saith she. "Out on ye both!
I'm done with ye!"

"For that, God be praised!" saith I, and left ere she could answer.

But one day as I sate i' th' kitchen, a-cosseting o' my lame arm as
though 't had been a babe, I hear a sound o' wheels and a clatter o'
horses' hoofs; and, lo! there be a chariot pulled up afore the door,
with four gray horses a-making play with their trappings, and a
coachman, all wig and gilding, a-sitting on th' box. And ere a could
move, out steps a fine dame, with her hair all in hillocks, as 'twere,
and a paling o' lace round about her head, like as 't had been a
flower-garden, and a farthingale to 'a' covered th' big malt-pot with as
little to-do as a hen covers an egg. And up comes she to th' door, and
her tire-woman a-holding of her robes, and two footmen going before, and
in she comes--like as though Riches and Death had a' th' same right to
enter a poor man's house without knocking. And saith she to me, saith
she, a-filling up o' the room with her finery, like a cuckoo ruffling
out its feathers in another bird's nest, saith she,

"Be this th' cottage o' Humfrey Lemon th' farrier?" saith she.

"It be so; and I be he," saith I.

"And be thou th' father o' th' wench they call th' Farrier Lass o'
Piping Pebworth?" saith she.

"I be, an' proud o't," say I, a-beginning to think that she might 'a'
knocked at th' do