"Aye," says the tinker, "it is three years since I had a combat with any man; I have challenged many a one, but none dare face me, so I think they are all cowards in this part of the country; but I hear there is a man lives hereabouts named Thomas Hickathrift, who has killed a giant, him I'd willingly see to have a bout with him."
"Aye," said Tom, "I am the man. What have you to say to me?"
"Truly," said the tinker, "I am very glad we are so happily met, that we may have one touch."
"Surely," said Tom, "you are but in jest."
"Marry," said the tinker, "but I am in earnest."
"A match," said Tom.
"It is done," said the tinker.
"But," said Tom, "will you give me leave to get me a twig?"
"Aye," said the tinker, "I hate him that fights with a man unarmed."
So Tom stepped to a gate and took a rail for a staff. So to it they fell. The tinker at Tom, and Tom at the tinker, like two giants. The tinker had a leather coat on, so that every blow Tom gave him made it roar again, yet the tinker did not give way an inch till Tom gave him such a bang on the side of the head that felled him to the ground.