knew he was in London, not an arm's length from the King's throne. It
was a grander sight than he had seen in any other country. The hall was
filled entirely with lords and ladies; and the great doors were open
for the poor and the homeless to come in and warm themselves by the
King's fire and feast from the King's table. And many a hungry soul did
the King serve with his own hands.

Those that had anything to give gave it in return. It might be a bit of
music played on a harp or a pipe, or it might be a dance or a song; but
more often it was a wish, just, for good luck and safekeeping.

Teig was so taken up with the watching that he never heard the fairies
when they wished themselves on; moreover, he never saw the wee girl
that was fed, and went laughing away. But he heard a bit of her song as
she passed through the door:

"Feed ye the hungry an' rest ye the weary,
This ye must do for the sake of Our Mary."

Then the anger had Teig. "I'll stop your pestherin' tongue, once an'
for all time!" and, catching the cap from his head, he threw it after
her. No sooner was the cap gone than every soul in the hall saw him.
The next moment they were about him, catching at his coat and crying:

"Where is he from, what does he here? Bring him before the King!" And
Teig was dragged along by a hundred hands to the throne where the King
sat.

"He was stealing food," cried one.