Quoth he to himself, "I would I had Willie Wynkin's wishing
coat; I know right well what I should wish for, and this it should be."
Here he marked upon the fingers of his left hand with the forefinger of
his right hand those things which he wished for. "Firstly, I would have
a sweet brown pie of tender larks; mark ye, not dry cooked, but with a
good sop of gravy to moisten it withal. Next, I would have a pretty
pullet, fairly boiled, with tender pigeons' eggs, cunningly sliced,
garnishing the platter around. With these I would have a long, slim loaf
of wheaten bread that hath been baked upon the hearth; it should be warm
from the fire, with glossy brown crust, the color of the hair of mine
own Maid Marian, and this same crust should be as crisp and brittle as
the thin white ice that lies across the furrows in the early winter's
morning. These will do for the more solid things; but with these I must
have three potties, fat and round, one full of Malmsey, one of Canary,
and one brimming full of mine own dear lusty sack." Thus spoke Robin to
himself, his mouth growing moist at the corners with the thoughts of the
good things he had raised in his own mind.
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