I go eat till I
can contrive you a pot worthy the name." And I bent to my work again;
but missing her from beside me, turned to see her seated upon the
grassy bank and with two roasted steaks set out upon two great green
leaves, a delectable sight.

"Pray lend me your knife, Martin."

"What, have you brought dinner hither?" says I.

"To be sure, Martin."

"Why then--!" says I, and laving the clay from my hands came beside her
and, using our knife alternately, a very pleasant meal we made of it.

All that afternoon I wrought at our pots until I had made a dozen or so
of all sizes, and each and every furnished with one or more handles;
and though I scowled at a crack here and there, they looked none the
less serviceable on the whole, and hardening apace.

"And now, comrade," quoth I, rising, "now we will fire them." So
having collected wood sufficient, I reached for my biggest pot (the
which being made first was the hardest-set), and taking it up with
infinite care off tumbled the handles. At this I was minded to dash
the thing to pieces, but her touch restrained me and I set it down,
staring at it mighty discomfited and downcast; whereat she laughs right
merrily.

"O Martin," says she, "never gloom so, 'tis an excellent pot even
without handles, indeed I do prefer it so!"

"No," says I, "handles you wanted and handles you shall have!" So
taking a stick that lay handy, I sharpened it to a point and therewith
bored me two holes beneath the lip of the pot and other two opposite.
"This pot shall have iron handle," says I, "unless it perish in the
fire." Then setting the pots as close as might be, I covered them with
brushwood and thereupon (and with infinite caution) builded a fire and
presently had it a-going. Now I would have stayed to tend the fire but
my companion showed me the sun already low, vowed I had done enough,
that I was tired, etc. So, having set upon the fire wood enough to
burn good time, I turned away and found myself weary even as she said.

"Goat's-flesh," says I as we sat side by side after supper,
"goat's-flesh is an excellent, wholesome diet and, as you cook it,
delicious."

"'Tis kind of you to say so, Martin, but--"

"We have had it," says I, "we have had it boiled and baked--"

"And roast and stewed, and broiled across your iron bolts, Martin, and
yet 'tis always goat's-flesh and I do yearn for a change, and so do
you."

"Lord!" says I, "You do read my very thoughts sometimes."