laughing, "thou hast a quaint
tongue betwixt thy teeth. But hast thou truly nought but a dry crust
about thee? Methinks thy bags and pouches are fat and lusty for such
thin fare."

"Why, mayhap there is some other cold fare therein," said the Beggar
slyly.

"And hast thou nought to drink but cold water?" said Robin.

"Never so much as a drop," quoth the Beggar. "Over beyond yon clump of
trees is as sweet a little inn as ever thou hast lifted eyelid upon; but
I go not thither, for they have a nasty way with me. Once, when the good
Prior of Emmet was dining there, the landlady set a dear little tart of
stewed crabs and barley sugar upon the window sill to cool, and, seeing
it there, and fearing it might be lost, I took it with me till that I
could find the owner thereof. Ever since then they have acted very ill
toward me; yet truth bids me say that they have the best ale there that
ever rolled over my tongue."

At this Robin laughed aloud. "Marry," quoth he, "they did ill toward
thee for thy kindness. But tell me truly, what hast thou in thy
pouches?"

"Why," quoth the Beggar, peeping into the mouths of his bags, "I find
here a goodly piece of pigeon pie, wrapped in a cabbage leaf to hold the
gravy. Here I behold a dainty streaked piece of brawn, and here a fair
lump of white bread. Here I find four oaten cakes and a cold knuckle of
ham. Ha! In sooth, 'tis strange; but here I behold six eggs that must
have come by accident from some poultry yard hereabouts. They are raw,
but roasted upon the coals and spread with a piece of butter that I see--"

"Peace, good friend!" cried Robin, holding up his hand. "Thou makest my
poor stomach quake with joy for what thou tellest me so sweetly. If thou
wilt give me to eat, I will straightway hie me to that little inn thou
didst tell of but now, and will bring a skin of ale for thy drinking and
mine."

"Friend, thou hast said enough," said the Beggar, getting down from the
stile. "I will feast thee with the best that I have and bless Saint
Cedric for thy company. But, sweet chuck, I prythee bring three quarts
of ale at least, one for thy drinking and two for mine, for my thirst is
such that methinks I can drink ale as the sands of the River Dee drink
salt water."

So Robin straightway left the Beggar, who, upon his part, went to a
budding lime bush back of the hedge, and there spread his feast upon the
grass and roasted his eggs upon a little fagot fire, with a deftne