THE MURDER BY THE MERE For a while Sir John and his retainer rode in silence.

Then he laughed loudly.
"Jeffrey," he called, "that was a near touch.

Sir Priest was minded to stick his Spanish pick-tooth between our ribs, and shrive us afterwards, as we lay dying, to salve his conscience." "Yes, master; only, being reasonable, he remembered that English swords have a longer reach, and that his bullies are in the Ford ale-house seeing the Old Year out, and so put it off.

Master, I have always told you that old October of yours is too strong to drink at noon.

It should be saved till bed-time." "What do you mean, man ?" "I mean that ale spoke yonder, not wisdom.