rundled home, all but one, who
stood like a table, where the landlady had moved him to, like a table.
And Gerard baked his pudding; and getting to the stove, burst into
steam.

The door opened, and in flew a bundle of straw.

It was hurled by a hind with a pitchfork. Another and another came
flying after it, till the room was like a clean farmyard. These were
then dispersed round the stove in layers, like the seats in an arena,
and in a moment the company was all on its back.

The beds had come.

Gerard took out his pudding, and found it delicious. While he was
relishing it, the woman who had given it him, and who was now abed,
beckoned him again. He went to her bundle side. "She is waiting for
you," whispered the woman. Gerard returned to the stove, and gobbled.
the rest of his sausage, casting uneasy glances at the landlady, seated
silent as fate amid the prostrate multitude. The food bolted, he went to
her, and said, "Thank you kindly, dame, for waiting for me."

"You are welcome," said she calmly, making neither much nor little of
the favour; and with that began to gather up the feathers. But Gerard
stopped her. "Nay, that is my task;" and he went down on his knees, and
collected them with ardour. She watched him demurely.

"I wot not whence ye come," said she, with a relic of distrust; adding,
more cordially, "but ye have been well brought up;--y' have had a good
mother, I'll go bail."

At the door she committed the whole company to Heaven, in a formula, and
disappeared. Gerard to his straw in the very corner-for the guests lay
round the sacred stove by seniority, i.e. priority of arrival.

This punishment was a boon to Gerard, for thus he lay on the shore of
odour and stifling heat, instead of in mid-ocean.

He was just dropping off, when he was awaked by a noise; and lo there
was the hind remorselessly shaking and waking guest after guest, to ask
him whether it was he who had picked up the mistress's feathers.

"It was I," cried Gerard.

"Oh, it was you, was it?" said the other, and came striding rapidly over
the intermediate sleepers. "She bade me say, 'One good turn deserves
another,' and so here's your nightcap," and he thrust a great oaken mug
under Gerard's nose.

"I thank her, and bless her; here goes--ugh!" and his gratitude ended in
a wry face; for the beer was muddy, and had a strange, medicinal twang
new to the Hollander.

"Trinke aus!" shouted the hind reproachfully.

"Enow is as good