A lesser bowl
was provided for each of the company, with horn spoons, and a loaf of
good wheaten bread, and a tankard of excellent ale. Randall declared
that his Perronel made far daintier dishes than my Lord Archbishop's
cook, who went every day in silk and velvet.

He explained to her his views on the armourer, to which she agreed with
all her might, the old gentleman in bed adding something which the boys
began to understand, that there was no worthier nor more honourable
condition than that of an English burgess, specially in the good town of
London, where the kings knew better than to be ever at enmity with their
good towns.

"Will the armourer take both of you?" asked Mistress Randall.

"Nay, it was only for Stephen we devised it," said Ambrose.

"And what wilt thou do?"

"I wish to be a scholar," said Ambrose.

"A lean trade," quoth the jester; "a monk now or a friar may be a right
jolly fellow, but I never yet saw a man who throve upon books!"

"I had rather study than thrive," said Ambrose rather dreamily.

"He wotteth not what he saith," cried Stephen.

"Oh ho! so thou art of that sort!" rejoined his uncle. "I know them! A
crabbed black and white page is meat and drink to them! There's that
Dutch fellow, with a long Latin name, thin and weazen as never was
Dutchman before; they say he has read all the books in the world, and
can talk in all the tongues, and yet when he and Sir Thomas More and the
Dean of Saint Paul's get together at my lord's table one would think
they were bidding for my bauble. Such excellent fooling do they make,
that my lord sits holding his sides."

"The Dean of Saint Paul's!" said Ambrose, experiencing a shock.

"Ay! He's another of your lean scholars, and yet he was born a wealthy
man, son to a Lord Mayor, who, they say, reared him alone out of a round
score of children."

"Alack! poor souls," sighed Mistress Randall under her breath, for, as
Ambrose afterwards learnt, her two babes had scarce seen the light. Her
husband, while giving her a look of affection, went on--"Not that he can
keep his wealth. He has bestowed the most of it on Stepney church, and
on the school he hath founded for poor children, nigh to Saint Paul's."

"Could I get admittance to that school?" exclaimed Ambrose.

"Thou art a big fellow for a school," said his uncle, looking him over.
"However, faint heart never won fair lady."

"I have a letter from the Warden of Saint Elizabeth's to one