Thomas Hooper was his name, and I remember how he looked at me.

My mother had made that little cut jerkin, in the quiet winter evenings.

And taken pride to loop it up in a fashionable way, and I was loth to soil it with blood, and good filberds were in the pocket.

Then up to me came Robin Snell (mayor of Exeter thrice since that), and he stood very square, and looking at me, and I lacked not long to look at him.

Round his waist he had a kerchief busking up his small-clothes, and on his feet light pumpkin shoes, and all his upper raiment off.