"May I, dame ?" said he beseechingly.
"Why not ?" said she.
The question was evidently another surprise, though less startling than its predecessors.
Coming to the stove, Gerard found the oven door obstructed by "the rammish clowns." They did not budge.

He hesitated a moment.

The landlady saw, calmly put down her work, and coming up, pulled a hircine man or two hither, and pushed a hircine man or two thither, with the impassive countenance of a housewife moving her furniture.

"Turn about is fair play," she said; "ye have been dry this ten minutes and better." Her experienced eye was not deceived; Gorgonii had done stewing, and begun baking.

Debarred the stove, they trundled home, all but one, who stood like a table, where the landlady had moved him to, like a table.
And Gerard baked his pudding; and getting to the stove, burst into steam.
The door opened, and in flew a bundle of straw.
It was hurled by a hind with a pitchfork.