of them will wear folks teeth out, and there is a trade for the
man who can draw them."

A general laugh followed this sally at the dentist's expense, in
the midst of which the gleeman placed his battered harp upon his
knee, and began to pick out a melody upon the frayed strings.

"Elbow room for Floyting Will!" cried the woodmen. "Twang us a
merry lilt."

"Aye, aye, the `Lasses of Lancaster,'" one suggested.

"Or `St. Simeon and the Devil.'"

"Or the `Jest of Hendy Tobias.'"

To all these suggestions the jongleur made no response, but sat
with his eye fixed abstractedly upon the ceiling, as one who
calls words to his mind. Then, with a sudden sweep across the
strings, he broke out into a song so gross and so foul that ere
he had finished a verse the pure-minded lad sprang to his feet
with the blood tingling in his face.

"How can you sing such things?" he cried. "You, too, an old man
who should be an example to others."

The wayfarers all gazed in the utmost astonishment at the
interruption.

"By the holy Dicon of Hampole! our silent clerk has found his