Part 57 (2/2)

Filemon scoffed at her caution. ”Probably not! Mikelaus has the gut of a salamander! Let me verify the temperature.” He took the bowl and raised it to his lips. ”That is excellent soup, but you are right; it is far too hot for Mikelaus.”

”There is little left in the bowl,” said Sir Pom-Pom.

Mikelaus said: ”Gamkarch noop. Bosumelists.”

”You must not be greedy!” admonished Dame Corcas. ”This young gentleman will surely make up more soup if there is not enough.”

Madouc, seeing the way the wind blew, heaved a sigh. ”Very well, Sir Pom-Pom. Serve around the soup. I cannot eat with these hungry creatures watching my every mouthful.”

Sir Pom-Pom growled: ”I made only enough for our needs.”

”No problem whatever!” declared Filemon with enthusiasm. ”When good comrades meet along the road, they share each with each, and all rejoice in mutual amplitude! I notice yonder a fine b.u.t.t of ham, onions, bread, cheese, and unless my eyes deceive me, a bottle of wine! We shall have a true banquet, here along the road, to which each shall give of his best! Corcas, you must make yourself useful! a.s.sist this young gentleman with the fine boots!”

Dame Corcas sprang to her feet, and so swiftly that Sir Pom Pom could hardly follow the movement of her hands, she had thrown great chunks of ham into the pot, along with half a dozen onions, and three handfuls of oaten flour. While Sir Pom-Pom and Madouc watched in bemus.e.m.e.nt, Filemon had brought out the bottle of wine, and had tasted its contents.

Mikelaus said: ”Arum. Cangel.”

”Why not?” said Filemon. ”You are poor, miserable, and misshapen, and only two feet tall; still, why should you not enjoy a sip of wine from time to time, along with the rest of your merry comrades?” He pa.s.sed the bottle to Mikelaus, who tilted it high into the air.

”Enough!” cried Dame Corcas. ”While I stand here stirring the pot, and smoke finding the sure way to my eyes, you two consume all the wine! Put the bottle aside! Entertain these two fine folk with your jolly antics.”

”Just one more swallow,” begged Filemon. ”It will lubricate my lips for the fife.”

He drank more wine, then brought a fife from his pocket. ”Now then, Mikelaus! You must earn your soup! Show us your best hornpipe!”

Filemon played a lively tune, of skirling runs and quick returns, with trills high and warbles low, while Mikelaus danced a wild jig of kicking legs and knees brought high, ending all with a forward and backward somersault.

”Good work, Mikelaus!” cried Dame Corcas. ”Perhaps our friends will favor you with a coin or two, as is the habit of the gentry!”

Sir Pom-Pom growled: ”Be content that you devour our food and swill our wine.”

Filemon put on a face of moist reproach, his eyes large and round. ”We are comrades of the road-vagabonds of the same far horizons! Is it not share with one, share with all? Those are the rules of the gallant wayfarers!”

”If this is true, I prefer otherwise,” muttered Sir Pom-Pom. Dame Corcas emitted a sudden groan. ”Ah! How the pangs do bite! It is my ailment; I have overexerted myself, as is my wont! Always I do too much for others! Filemon, my potion: where is it?”

”In your pouch, my dear, as always!”

”Ah indeed! I must limit my exertions, or I may well become ill!

Sir Pom-Pom said: ”We saw you at the fair. You were bounding about with great agility. Filemon threw Mikelaus high in the air, and you ran like the wind to catch him in the net.”

Mikelaus said: ”Gurgo arraska, selvo sorarsio!” Dame Corcas said: ”Yes, it was a shameful failure, for which we can blame the dog.”

”Bismal darstid: mango ki-yi-yi.”

”Whatever the case,” said Dame Corcas, ”the trick takes much out of me! I suffer for days afterward, but our public demands the spectacle; they know us of yore and we cannot disappoint them!”

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