“If it suit me, I should let them fly by as they should; otherwise I should pluck them bald.”

“Potter, hold in your horse a little while I look at your stock.”

The potter stopped and displayed his goods.

“Can you make any such for me?”

“How many?”

“Ten cartloads.”

“How long will you require?”

“One month.”

“In a fortnight I can bring them into the town. I suit you and you suit me.”

“Thank you, potter.”