to
where they sat.

"Give thee good den, holy father," quoth the merry Beggar with a grin.
"But look thee, thy gown is too short. Thou hadst best cut a piece off
the top and tack it to the bottom, so that it may be long enough. But
come, sit beside us here and take a taste of ale, if thy vows forbid
thee not."

"Nay," quoth Little John, also grinning, "the blessed Saint Dunstan hath
given me a free dispensation for all indulgence in that line." And he
thrust his hand into his pouch for money to pay his score.

"Truly," quoth the Tinker, "without thy looks belie thee, holy friar,
the good Saint Dunstan was wise, for without such dispensation his
votary is like to ha' many a penance to make. Nay, take thy hand from
out thy pouch, brother, for thou shalt not pay this shot. Ho, landlord,
a pot of ale!"

So the ale was brought and given to Little John. Then, blowing the
froth a little way to make room for his lips, he tilted the bottom of
the pot higher and higher, till it pointed to the sky, and he had to
shut his eyes to keep the dazzle of the sunshine out of them. Then he
took the pot away, for there was nothing in it, and heaved a full deep
sigh, looking at the others with moist eyes and shaking his head
solemnly.

"Ho, landlord!" cried the Peddler, "bring this good fellow another pot
of ale, for truly it is a credit to us all to have one among us who can
empty a canakin so lustily."

So they talked among themselves merrily, until after a while quoth
Little John, "Who rideth those two nags yonder?"

"Two holy men like thee, brother," quoth the Beggar. "They are now
having a goodly feast within, for I smelled the steam of a boiled pullet
just now. The landlady sayeth they come from Fountain Abbey, in
Yorkshire, and go to Lincoln on matters of business."

"They are a merry couple," said the Tinker, "for one is as lean as an
old wife's spindle, and the other as fat as a suet pudding."

"Talking of fatness," said the Peddler, "thou thyself lookest none too
ill-fed, holy friar."

"Nay, truly," said Little John, "thou seest in me what the holy Saint
Dunstan can do for them that serve him upon a handful of parched peas
and a trickle of cold water."

At this a great shout of laughter went up. "Truly, it is a wondrous
thing," quoth the Beggar, "I would have made my vow, to see the masterly
manner in which thou didst tuck away yon pot of ale, that thou hadst not
tasted clear water for a brace of months. Has no