Then he lustily trolls
As he onward strolls,
A rollicking song for the saving of souls.
When the wind doth blow,
With the coming of snow,
There's a place by the fire
For the fatherly friar,
And a crab in the bowl for his heart's desire_."
Thus Friar Tuck sang in a rich and mellow voice, rolling his head from
side to side in time with the music, and when he had done, all clapped
their hands and shouted with laughter, for the song fitted him well.
"In very sooth," quoth Little John, "it is a goodly song, and, were I
not a yeoman of Sherwood Forest, I had rather be a strolling friar than
aught else in the world."
"Yea, it is a goodly song," said Robin Hood, "but methought those two
burly beggars told the merrier tales and led the merrier life. Dost thou
not remember what that great black-bearded fellow told of his begging at
the fair in York?"
"Yea," said Little John, "but what told the friar of the harvest home in
Kentshire? I hold that he led a merrier life than the other two."
"Truly, for the honor of the cloth," quoth Friar Tuck, "I hold with my
good gossip, Little John.
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