Master Brigg was a townsman on a visit to his country relations, with whom he was journeying.
“Next, at the door of Robert Harpham,” he went on. “Then at Skeldergate End. After that, I don’t know. I’ve forgotten.”
Colin pricked up his ears.
“We shan’t have to wait long,” he whispered, leaning across to Margery. “Aunt Harpham lives close to Mikelgate.”
“And who plays the Creation this year?” his father was asking.
“The Plasterers,” replied Master Brigg.
“And Adam and Eve?”
“That I forget. But the Glovers have charge of Cain and Abel, and the Shipwrights this year are giving The Building of the Ark.”
“A good thought! ’Tis the best play for shipwrights!” declared the farmer, laughing. “I’ll be bound they’ll see it built well and truly. What of The Shepherds’ Play?”
“The Chandlers have the care of that, and the Goldsmiths of The Coming of the Three Kings to Herod.”