"She was pretty nimble, however.

That churl must have kicked your horse sharply to make him plunge as he did." "Trod on his fetlock most likely," I answered.

"Clumsy knave." "Well, that huntsman knows how to use a lash, at all events, and he will have a care in future.

But how my head does ache!" "That is likely enough," I said, laughing.

"It was a shrewd knock, and it kept you in that hole for the longest hour and a half I have ever known." "It does take somewhat out of the common to hurt me much," he said simply.
"Well, by tomorrow you will be famed all over Glastonbury as the man who fell over Cheddar cliffs and escaped by reason of lighting on the thickest part of him," I answered.
It was a poor jest enough, but it set him laughing.