His hinder heel was wrapt in a clout,
For with great cold he had got the gout:
There at the door he cast me down his pack,
And laid him down, and groaned, "Alack! alack!
Ah! dear Lord! and sweet Saint Charity!
That some good body would once pity me!"
Well heard Kiddie all this sore constraint,
And long'd to know the cause of his complaint;
Then, creeping close behind the wicket's clink,
Privily he peeped out through a chink,