"'Thank God, she is both good and clever.'
"'Aye, aye,' said the lad; 'every man is welcome to believe what he likes, but if you knew her as well as I do, you wouldn't say such words at random. Pretty women are like wind in warm summer weather.
'And love is such that, willy, nilly,
It takes up with a clerk as well as a lily.'
"'What's that you say?' said the man.
"'I have long thought I would tell you that there's a black bull that walks hoof to hoof and horn to horn with that milk-white cow in your mead, master—that's what I wanted to say.'
"'One can say much in a summer day,' said the man; 'but I can't understand what this points to.'
"'Is it so?' said the lad. 'Well, I have long thought of telling you that our clerk is often and ever in our house with the mistress, and how they lived as though there was a bridal every day, while we scarce get so much as the leavings of their good cheer.'
"'He who will ever taste and try,
Will burn his fingers in the pie,'
said his master. 'I don't believe a word of what you say.'
"'It's a strange ear that will never hear,' said the lad; 'but seeing is believing, and if you will listen to me, I'm ready to wager ten dollars that you shall soon have the proof in your own hands.'