For in the winter time, so glarie is the ground, As neither grasse, nor other graine, in pastures may be found. In coms the cattell then, the sheepe, the colt, the cowe, Fast by his bed the Mowsike then a lodging doth allowe, Whom he with fodder feeds, and holds as deere as life: And thus they weare the winter with the Mowsike and his wife.
They vse neither broach nor spit, but when the stoue they heate, They put their victuals in a pan, and so they bake their meate. No pewter to be had, no dishes but of wood, No use of trenchers, cups cut out of birche are very good. They vse but wooden spoones, which hanging in a case Eache Mowsike at his girdle ties, and thinkes it no disgrace.