“Hee haw! hee haw!” went the boatman.
“Do not throw stones,” said Ulenspiegel.
The boatman said a word in the ear of the lad hee-hawing beside him on the boat, and with the help of a boat hook, which he handled dexterously, came to the bank. When he was quite close, he said, standing proudly upright:
“My baes asks if you dare to come on board his boat and wage battle with him with fist and foot. These goodmen and goodwives will be witnesses.”
“We will,” said Ulenspiegel with much dignity.
“We accept the combat,” said Lamme with great stateliness.
It was noon; the workmen, navvies, paviours, ship-makers, their wives armed with their husbands’ luncheons, the children that came to see their fathers refresh themselves with beans or boiled meat, all laughed and clapped their hands at the idea of a battle at hand, gaily hoping that one or the other of the combatants would have a broken head or would fall into the river all in pieces for their delectation.
“My son,” said Lamme in a low voice, “he will throw us into the water.”
“Let yourself be thrown,” said Ulenspiegel.
“The big man is afraid,” said the crowd of workmen.