g somewhere deep in the woods of Arden; cart-wheels ruttled on the stony road; a blackbird whistle

ely fisherman down by the Avon started a wild duck from the sedge, and away it went pattering up-stream with frightened wings and red fee

m hedges pink and white with hawthorn bloom. The thought of being pent up on such a day grew more a

oger suddenly, startled by a thought coming i

that the burgesses woul

I see,

yes--the Mayor'

h, an' make the earth quake fearful wi' a barrel full o' stones? Or wull it be Sin in a motley gown a-thumping the Black Man over the pate wi' a bladder full o' peasen--a

rom London town, and I hope they'll play a right good English history-play, lik

no furder if they turn me to a goose. I wunnot be turned

orld could turn thee bigger goose than thou art now. C

hesitated Hodge. "Good, then; I be na

Burgess John Shakspere leave h

d Muster Robin Bowles it was na r

hakspere always liked to fish. But they burn witches in London, Hodge,

great man?" said he. "Why, a's name be cut on the old beech-tree up Snitterfield lane, where'

o. Dost think that a man's greatness hangs on so little a t

great man, Nick Attwood, a might do a l

e things, but parlous few the big. So some one must be bigging it, or folks would all sing

stly geese," said

calling Master Will Shakspere goose. He marrie

he long-necked fowls in Warrickshire for all I care. And, anyway, I'd like to know, Nick A

dressed, and had a heap of good gold nobles in his purse. And he gave Ric

ge; "a fool and a's m

e a peck o' money there in London town, and 's going to buy

eat a man amongst the lords and earlses, a 'd na come bac

s, "that 'tis a shame for a lout like thee to so miscall thy thousand-time betters. And wh

s were scarcely out of his mouth when he found himself

Now come, take that back, or I wi

had scattered to the four winds. "Whoy," said he, va

his feet. "I'll na go wi' thee," said he,

heel without a wo

im, "thy Muster Wully Shaxper be-eth an

he thin hedge, and galloped across the

e not the time to catch thee now. But mind ye this, Hodge Dawson: when I do

ockerel!" on a sudden called a keen,

in time to see a stranger leap the