. Of the making of trestle tables "areared and set upon
feet," of playing boards "that men playe on at the dyes [dice] and
other gamys. And this maner of table is double and arrayd wyth dyerse
colours." Of the making of writing tables, of wood used for flooring
that "set in solar floors serue all men and bestys y{t} ben therein,
and ben treden of alle men and beestys that come therein," and so
strong that "they bende not nor croke [crack] whan they ben pressyd
w{t} heuy thynges layd on them." And also of boards used for ships,
bridges, hulks and coffers, and "in shypbreche [shipwreck] men fle to
bordes and ben ofte sauyd in peryll." Of the building of houses with
roofs of "trees stretchyd from the walles up to the toppe of ye
house," with rafters "stronge and square and hewen playne," and of
"the covering of strawe and thetche [thatch]." Of the making of linen
from the soaking of the flax in water till it is dried and turned in
the sun and then bound in "praty bundels" and "afterward knockyd,
beten and brayd and carflyd, rodded and gnodded; ribbyd and heklyd and
at the laste sponne," of the bleaching, and finally of its many uses
for making clothing, and for sails, and fish nets, and thread, and
ropes, and strings ("for bows"), and measuring lines, and sheets ("to
reste in"), and sackes, and bagges, and purses ("to put and to kepe
thynges in"). Of the making of tow "uneven and full of knobs," used
for stuffing into the cracks in ships, and "for bonds and byndynges
and matches for candelles, for it is full drye and takyth sone fyre
and brenneth." "And so," he concludes somewhat breathlessly, "none
herbe is so nedefull to so many dyurrse uses to mankynde as is the
flexe." Of the vineyard "closyd about wyth walles and wyth hegges,
with a wayte [watch] set in an hyghe place to kepe the vynyerde that
the fruyte be not dystroyed." Of the desolation of the vineyard in
winter, "but in harueste tyme many comyth and haunteth the vynyerde."
Of the delicious smell of a vineyard. Of the damage done by foxes and
swine and "tame hounds." "A few hounds," Bartholomew tells us, "wasten
and dystroye moo grapes that cometh and eteth therof theuylly
[thievishly]." "A vineyard," he concludes, "maye not be kepte nother
sauyd but by his socour and helpe that all thynge hath and possesseth
in his power and myghte. And kepyth and sauyth all lordly and
myghtily." And is there any other writer who in so few words tells us
of the woods in those days