olly, hectoring Tom Button fast i' the pillory--and by
this good ale, a woeful sight, his eyes blacked, his nose a-bleeding,
his jerkin torn and a dead cat about his neck, oho--aha! Tom
Button--big Tom, fighting Tom so loud o' tongue and ready o' fist--Tom
as have cowed so many--there is he fast by the neck and a-groaning, see
ye, gossips, loud enough for six, wish I may die else! And the best o'
the joke is--the key be gone, as I'm a sinner! So they needs must
break the lock to get him out. Big Tom, as have thrashed every man for
miles." But here merry voice and laughter ceased and a buxom woman
thrust smiling face from the window, and face (like her voice) was
kindly when she addressed me:

"What would ye, young master?"

"A little food, mistress," says I, touching my weather-worn hat and
pulling it lower over my bruised and swollen features.

"Why come in, master, come in--there be none here but my Roger and
Godby the peddler, as knoweth everyone."

So I entered forthwith a small, snug chamber, and seating myself in the
darkest corner, acknowledged the salutations of the two men while the
good-looking woman, bustling to and fro, soon set before me a fine
joint of roast beef with bread and ale, upon which I incontinent fell
to.

The two men sat cheek by jowl at the farther end of the table, one a
red-faced, lusty fellow, the other, a small, bony man who laughed and
ate and ate and laughed and yet contrived to talk all the while, that
it was a wonder to behold.

"Was you over to Lamberhurst way, master?" says he to me, all at once.

"Aye!" I nodded, busy with the beef.

"Why then, happen ye saw summat o' the sport they had wi' the big gipsy
i' the pillory--him as 'saulted my Lady Brandon and nigh did for her
ladyship's coz?"

"Aye," says I again, bending over my platter.

"'Tis ill sport to bait a poor soul as be helpless, I think--nay I
know, for I've stood there myself ere now, though I won't say as I
didn't clod this fellow once or twice to-day myself--I were a rare
clodder in my time, aha! Did you clod this big rogue, master?"

"No!"

"And wherefore not?"

"Because," says I, cutting myself more beef, "I happened to be that
same rogue." Here Roger the landlord stared, his buxom wife shrank
away, and even the talkative peddler grew silent awhile, viewing me
with his shrewd, merry eyes.

"Aha!" says he at last, "'Twas you, was it?"

"It was!"

"And why must ye 'sault a noble lady?"

"I ne