…From the south came Long-Horn O’Leary and his host.
“Hail, the flame-hot hammerer: wielder of the red mallet,” said Father Fish as he lolloped alongside O’Leary’s company on foot, “When the men of Albion return from foreign lands you protect their rear so that an assailant may not spring past you, nor over you, what then should prevent the Champion’s Portion of Red-Hill-Hall being yours ?”
Said Long-Horn O’Leary, “why, if it isn’t that dullard Fish Face, come to pester me with his eccentric wit,” he laughed aloud and his company set up a roar and raised their swords.
“Truly, the Champion’s Portion of the house I built is not that of a dullard’s house,” smiled Father Fish, “belonging to it are five-score cakes of wheat cooked in honey, and a cow-lord full seven years old; since it was a calf neither heather nor twig-tops have entered its lips, nothing…
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