“I doe gif you a present each of a mule. Commende me to your good
master the Abbot, and begge hym to give us hys company in the merrie
Maye dayes, and he shall meet with cheer over and above that which
you have received. Fare ye welle.”
Then the robbers dyd thwacke us again, tyll Robert Baldrow dyd slyp
from hys mule by ye breakynge of hys strappes, and dyd begge Robyn to
allow hym to remain and become one of hys menne.
Atte which Robyn dyd laugh and give hys consent right readilie,
striking hym on ye backe with hys palm to showe hys pleasure thereat.
In three dayes we dyd return us to Crowlande Abbey, hungry nigh untoe
dethe, and sore; where being kindlie entreated we dyd recover, and in
the quiet of mine owne cell, I have written thys parchement to cleare
my character of guilt.
Shoulde ever I com across that rascal robber, Robyn Hode, I will soe
bange hys carcase with my staffe, that hys skin shall be like a poke
filled with odde bones.
“Syned, ROGER AYLMER,
“Jany. 10, 1197.”
“CROWLANDE ABBEY,
“_Marche, 1495_.
“I, John Wybourne, a monk of Crowlande Abbey, dyd fynde, in a strong
chist of ye Ladye Chapelle, a document written by one Roger Aylmer
in 1197, which dyd showe how he was taken by ye thief Robyn Hode and
dyd spend ten dayes with hym in Wintertyde: the sayd document being
soe badlie written and so badelie spelt that I have corrected itte to
conform with oure modern spellynge.
“Althoughe I have altered the wordes I have not altered the sense of
the document, but merely for the sayk of our Abbey, I have set my
hande to yts correction, that those who com after doe not blushe for
shayme at Roger Alymer hys badde spellynge.”
* * * * *
My old friend the antiquarian would have me drive him to Coventry on
my way thither, as he was particularly anxious that I should not miss
visiting the shop at which he had made such discoveries of ancient
parchments--parchments which, but for his discovery, would have gone,
sooner or later, to form the heads of children’s toy drums.
I cannot refrain from mentioning one little incident which took place
before we parted. My friend, in showing me the lions of Coventry,
took me into the Public Hall, where we found the old fellow in charge
busy cleaning the windows. We asked permission to look round, and
in speaking to the old custodian who was on the ladder I had some
difficulty in making myself understood. I said, “My friend, I am
afraid, although this is a fine hall, that its acoustics are very bad.”
To my surprise he gave a lengthy sniff and replied, “I don’t know about
that, sir, I’ve never had a complaint before, _I can’t smell anything_!”
I did not smile, but passed out quickly, for fear of an attack of
apoplexy.
In travelling from place to place I come across some strange incidents,
some of which are merely the outcome of simplicity or kindness of heart.
Thus at one village I visited, I happened to mention to the landlord of
the inn I was staying at that I had omitted to pack a tooth-brush with
my other impedimenta.
“Oh, I’ll soon set that right,” he replied, and darting from the room
quickly returned with a face beaming with pleasure.
“Here’s one, sir,” and he held out a tooth-brush; “you’ll find it’s a
very good one, for _I’ve only used it a few times_!”
Simplicity of manner frequently runs hand in hand with simplicity of
speech; as an illustration of the latter I may give a few words I once
heard delivered from the pulpit of a Primitive Methodist chapel, by a
good-natured, but somewhat illiterate preacher. He said--
“My dear frinds, coming to worshup this mornin’, I had a curious idea
come inter my head. I likened this chapel to a gret iron biler, and
you, my frinds, I likened to the dumplin’s a-being biled, while I was
the long wooden spune a-stirring on yer up! There, my dear frinds,
them were my thoughts when I was a-walking here this werry mornin’.”
What could be more graphic than such a charming and flattering
discourse? There could be no comparison between Cicero and this village
Hampden!