ter of verse; and men and women
began to point him out to each other and talk about him. In those
days, however, it was quite impossible for any man to make literature
his profession, and all his life, therefore, he could only take poetry
as the business of his leisure hours. Then, no doubt, he really worked
at it more than at the employment by which he lived; and no doubt,
also, as he went about through the world, he was always learning
something for his art. If this had not been the case, the name of
Chaucer would not be what it now is in English literature.

At about this period Edward the Third set off for one of his many
warlike expeditions into France. Young Chaucer, who was ready for
everything, and who perhaps thought he should like to see a little of
a soldier's life, entered the army and followed the king.

But the young soldier's experiences were not to be all of nights spent
beneath clear starlit skies, and cheery communing with his comrades,
and the eager glow of battle. Through an unlucky chance of war Chaucer
was taken prisoner.

His prepossessing manners, and his knowledge of the French language
and customs, gained during his stay in Paris probably, made his
captivity a very easy one. But he had to sit still with folded hands
while his countrymen were fighting, and in this season of forced
inactivity he had time to repent past follies and to make good
resolves for the future. At length, through an exchange of prisoners,
the poet was set free. After that he never tried a soldier's life
again, having most likely had quite enough of it.

Soon after his return to England, he got an appointment about the
Court which brought him a settled income. He now began to think of
making himself a home. Among those who followed in the train of
Edward's queen, Philippa, when she came to England, were a certain
knight of Hainault, called Roet, and his two little daughters. These
children were now grown up into very comely young women. One,
Catherine, had married an English gentleman, named Swynford. The
other, Philippa, was maid of honor to the queen. According to Fanny
Burney, a maid of honor has quite enough to do in the labors of
dressing her mistress and herself; yet this industrious damsel,
Philippa Roet, found spare time sufficient (between the business of
clasping on jewels and arranging gracefully royal mantles, and
contriving how to make an old dress look like new) to fall in love
with Geoffrey Chaucer, and,