KENILWORTH - Penn State University

Sir Walter Scottthee, as men peel and eat a roasted chestnut.”“Had he done so,” replied the boy, “he would have hadmore brains in his guts than ever he had in his noddle. Butthe giant is a courteous monster, and more grateful than manyother folk whom I have helped at a pinch, Master WaylandSmith.”“Beshrew me, Flibbertigibbet,” replied Wayland, “but thouart sharper than a Sheffield whittle! I would I knew by whatcharm you muzzled yonder old bear.”“Ay, that is in your own manner,” answered Dickie; “youthink fine speeches will pass muster instead of good-will. However,as to this honest porter, you must know that when wepresented ourselves at the gate yonder, his brain was overburdenedwith a speech that had been penned for him, andwhich proved rather an overmatch for his gigantic faculties.Now this same pithy oration had been indited, like sundryothers, by my learned magister, Erasmus Holiday, so I hadheard it often enough to remember every line. As soon as Iheard him blundering and floundering like a fish upon dryland, through the first verse, and perceived him at a stand, Iknew where the shoe pinched, and helped him to the nextword, when he caught me up in an ecstasy, even as you sawbut now. I promised, as the price of your admission, to hideme under his bearish gaberdine, and prompt him in the hourof need. I have just now been getting some food in the Castle,and am about to return to him.”“That’s right—that’s right, my dear Dickie,” repliedWayland; “haste thee, for Heaven’s sake! else the poor giantwill be utterly disconsolate for want of his dwarfish auxiliary.Away with thee, Dickie!”“Ay, ay!” answered the boy—”away with Dickie, when we havegot what good of him we can. You will not let me know thestory of this lady, then, who is as much sister of thine as I am?”“Why, what good would it do thee, thou silly elf?” saidWayland.“Oh, stand ye on these terms?” said the boy. “Well, I carenot greatly about the matter—only, I never smell out a secretbut I try to be either at the right or the wrong end of it, andso good evening to ye.”“Nay, but, Dickie,” said Wayland, who knew the boy’s restlessand intriguing disposition too well not to fear his enmity—”stay,my dear Dickie—part not with old friends so317