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"Aw'm a beamer," replied the old man, "a twister-in, when there's ought doin'. But it's nowt ov a trade neaw. Aw'll tell yo what ruins me; it's these lung warps. They maken 'em seven an' eight cuts in, neaw an' then. There's so mony 'fancies' an' things i' these days; it makes my job good to nought at o' for sich like chaps as me.
He is a constant recreation and delight. I put him in my own room, and went up to look at him two or three times the first evening. Every time I looked he would be quite still, but his little black beads of eyes shone wide open in the candle-light, and I recalled how Chaucer's "Smale foules maken melodie That slepen alle night with open eye,"
Penticost frankly; "but he'm like all men, naught but a cheild that cries for the moon, and a woman as has a heart would sooner see a man getten' what he wants, even when 'tes bad for 'en, than see him eaten' his soul away with longing. There's a deal of satisfaction in maken' our own unhappiness, and a man has that to console him."
So saying, he strode away toward the forest, talking to himself, while the landlord and his worthy dame and Maken stood looking after him, and laughed when he had fairly gone. "Robin and I stripped yon ass of his pack main neatly," quoth the landlord.
And there besyde, is the hille of Garasoun, where the Samaritanes maken here sacrifice: in that hille wolde Abraham have sacrificed his sone Ysaac. And there besyde is the vale of Dotaym: and there is the cisterne, where Josephe was cast in of his bretheren, which thei solden; and that is a 2 myle fro Sychar.
In the Prologue to the "Canterbury Tales," the Cook of London and his qualifications are thus emblazoned: "A Cook thei hadde with hem for the nones, To boylle chyknes, with the mary bones, And poudre marchaunt tart, and galyngale; Wel cowde he knowe a draugte of London ale. He cowde roste, and sethe, and broille, and frie Maken mortreux, and wel bake a pie.
And aftre thei maken to come in, other damyselles, bryngynge coupes of gold, fulle of mylk of dyverse bestes, and zeven drynke to lordes and to ladyes.
Do you mean out in Finsbury Moor, Father Chaucer? They were sweet along the banks of the Walbrook, I know, for among them "maken melodye" were the skylark, ethereal minstrel! and the nightingale. But, Father Chaucer, you should have heard the wood-thrushes, the orchard-orioles this whole morning chorus singing along the creek!
"'Well, you is a wonderful man, Mr Sorrow, sais Miss Phillis, 'I do really tink dat stands to reason and experience. When I married my fiff husband no, it warn't my fiff, it was my sixth I had lubly baby tree month old, and my old man killed it maken speriments. He would give it soup and minced veal to make it trong. "'I is most afeard she is too much a slave to fashion, sais I.
Pay me that thou owest me in broad money, or else leave thy coat and bag and hammer; yet, I wot they are not worth ten shillings, and I shall lose thereby. Nay, an thou stirrest, I have a great dog within and I will loose him upon thee. Maken, open thou the door and let forth Brian if this fellow stirs one step."
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