ss
gained by long labor in that line. After a while back came Robin bearing
a goodly skin of ale upon his shoulder, which he laid upon the grass.
Then, looking upon the feast spread upon the ground--and a fair sight it
was to look upon--he slowly rubbed his hand over his stomach, for to his
hungry eyes it seemed the fairest sight that he had beheld in all his
life.

"Friend," said the Beggar, "let me feel the weight of that skin.

"Yea, truly," quoth Robin, "help thyself, sweet chuck, and meantime let
me see whether thy pigeon pie is fresh or no."

So the one seized upon the ale and the other upon the pigeon pie, and
nothing was heard for a while but the munching of food and the gurgle of
ale as it left the skin.

At last, after a long time had passed thus, Robin pushed the food from
him and heaved a great sigh of deep content, for he felt as though he
had been made all over anew.

"And now, good friend," quoth he, leaning upon one elbow, "I would have
at thee about that other matter of seriousness of which I spoke not long
since."

"How!" said the Beggar reproachfully, "thou wouldst surely not talk of
things appertaining to serious affairs upon such ale as this!"

"Nay," quoth Robin, laughing. "I would not check thy thirst, sweet
friend; drink while I talk to thee. Thus it is: I would have thee know
that I have taken a liking to thy craft and would fain have a taste of a
beggar's life mine own self."

Said the Beggar, "I marvel not that thou hast taken a liking to my
manner of life, good fellow, but 'to like' and 'to do' are two matters
of different sorts. I tell thee, friend, one must serve a long
apprenticeship ere one can learn to be even so much as a clapper-
dudgeon, much less a crank or an Abraham-man.[3] I tell thee, lad, thou
art too old to enter upon that which it may take thee years to catch the
hang of."

[3] Classes of traveling mendicants that infested England as late as the
middle of the seventeenth century. VIDE Dakkar's ENGLISH VILLAINIES,
etc.

"Mayhap that may be so," quoth Robin, "for I bring to mind that Gaffer
Swanthold sayeth Jack Shoemaker maketh ill bread; Tom Baker maketh ill
shoon. Nevertheless, I have a mind to taste a beggar's life, and need
but the clothing to be as good as any."

"I tell thee, fellow," said the Beggar, "if thou wert clad as sweetly as
good Saint Wynten, the patron of our craft, thou wouldst never make a
beggar. Marry, the first jolly traveler that