'I am going, O mammy, to fill up my pot.'
As for the corn-chandler he brings more skill to it than any; he dances and sings,
'O Keener,[FN#623] 0 sweetheart, thou fallest not short'
and he leaves no one's vitals sound for laughing at him. But the scavenger sings so that the birds stop to listen to him and dances and sings,
'News my wife wots is not locked in a box!'[FN#624]
And he hath privilege, for 'tis a shrewd rogue[FN#625] and a witty; and speaking of his excellence I am wont to say,
My life for the scavenger! right well I love him, * Like a waving bough he is sweet to my sight: Fate joined us one night, when to him quoth I * (The while I grew weak and love gained more might) 'Thy love burns my heart!' 'And no wonder,' quoth he * 'When the drawer of dung turns a stoker wight.'[F
