Someone on the street asked the poet how he liked the music which he had heard inside.
"Music?" replied the bard with a sneer. "Is that what Morgan is trying? Why! I thought it was first the lowing of an aged cow, and then the yelping of a blind dog, unable to find its way. Do you call that music?"
The truth was that when the soloist had so filled himself with strong ale that his brain was fuddled, then it was hard to tell just what kind of a noise he was making. It took a wise man to discover the tune, if there was any.
One evening, when Morgan thought his singing unusually fine, and felt sorry that no one heard him, he heard a knock.
[Illustration: THE MORE MORGAN PLAYED, THE MADDER THE DANCE]
Instead of going to the door to inquire, or welcome the visitor, he yelled out "Come in!"
The door opened and there stood three tired looking strangers. They appeared to be travelers. One of them said:
"Kind sir, we are weary and worn, and would be glad of a morsel of bread. If you can give us a little food, we shall not trouble you further."
"Is that all?" said Morgan. "See there the loaf and the cheese, with a knife beside them. Take what you want, and fill your bags. No man shall ever say that Taffy Morgan denied anyone food, when he had any himself."
Whereupon the three travelers sat down and began to eat.