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He was all dressed in leather, only his hood and tippet were of black frieze, and tied with scarlet; his face was like a walnut-shell, both for colour and wrinkles; but his old grey eye was still clear enough, and his sight unabated.
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He, at the least, would know, and they hailed him and begged him to explain. Sir Daniel had sent for every man that could draw a bow or carry a bill to go post-haste to Kettley, under pain of his severe displeasure; but for whom they were to fight, or of where the battle was expected, Dick knew nothing.
He drew bridle willingly enough — a young fellow not yet eighteen, sun-browned and grey-eyed, in a jacket of deer’s leather, with a black velvet collar, a green hood upon his head, and a steel cross-bow at his back. Sir Oliver would come shortly himself, and Bennet Hatch was arming at that moment, for he it was who should lead the party.“It is the ruin of this kind land,” a woman said.
“If the barons live at war, ploughfolk must eat roots.”“Nay,” said Dick, “every man that follows shall have sixpence a day, and archers twelve.”“If they live,” returned the woman, “that may very well be; but how if they die, my master?
”“They cannot better die than for their natural lord,” said Dick.“No natural lord of mine,” said the man in the smock. But now, what with Sir Daniel and what with Sir Oliver — that knows more of law than honesty — I have no natural lord but poor King Harry the Sixt, God bless him!
”“Clipsby,” said Richard, “you speak what I cannot hear with honour. ”“I know not,” said Dick, colouring a little; for his guardian had changed sides continually in the troubles of that period, and every change had brought him some increase of fortune.“Ay,” returned Clipsby, “you, nor no man. Nance,” he added, to one of the women, “is old Appleyard up town? “In his field, for sure.”So the group dispersed, and while Clipsby walked leisurely over the bridge, Bennet and young Shelton rode up the road together, through the village and past the church.“Ye will see the old shrew,” said Bennet.Sir Daniel is my good master, and my guardian.”“Come, now, will ye read me a riddle? For, indeed, he is one that goes to bed Lancaster and gets up York.”Just then the bridge rang under horse-shoe iron, and the party turned and saw Bennet Hatch come galloping — a brown-faced, grizzled fellow, heavy of hand and grim of mien, armed with sword and spear, a steel salet on his head, a leather jack upon his body. Look to it: he that is last at the lych-gate Sir Daniel shall reward. “He will waste more time grumbling and prating of Harry the Fift than would serve a man to shoe a horse. ”The house to which they were bound was the last in the village, standing alone among lilacs; and beyond it, on three sides, there was open meadow rising towards the borders of the wood.He was a great man in these parts; Sir Daniel’s right hand in peace and war, and at that time, by his master’s interest, bailiff of the hundred.“Clipsby,” he shouted, “off to the Moat House, and send all other laggards the same gate. Hatch dismounted, threw his rein over the fence, and walked down the field, Dick keeping close at his elbow, to where the old soldier was digging, knee-deep in his cabbages, and now and again, in a cracked voice, singing a snatch of song. There are a number of phone call rules when you are dating a girl.
The men's heart is the brain, while the women's heart is the mouth.I have watched with interest, with pain, and at length with amusement, your unavailing attempts to peruse The Black Arrow; and I think I should lack humour indeed, if I let the occasion slip and did not place your name in the fly-leaf of the only book of mine that you have never read — and never will read. Those who read volumes and those who read story papers belong to different worlds. Tunstall hamlet at that period, in the reign of old King Henry VI., wore much the same appearance as it wears to-day.