Aye, this is indeed a pied merlin, and with a leveret under its claws, as I am a living woman.

By the rood of Waltham! but thy touch is deft and dainty." "And see the red eye of it!" cried the maid.
"Aye, and the open beak." "And the ruffled wing," added Hordle John.
"By my hilt!" cried the archer, "it is the very bird itself." The young clerk flushed with pleasure at this chorus of praise, rude and indiscriminate indeed, and yet so much heartier and less grudging than any which he had ever heard from the critical brother Jerome, or the short-spoken Abbot.

There was, it would seem, great kindness as well as great wickedness in this world, of which he had heard so little that was good.

His hostess would hear nothing of his paying either for bed or for board, while the archer and Hordle John placed a hand upon either shoulder and led him off to the board, where some smoking fish, a dish of spinach, and a jug of milk were laid out for their breakfast.
"I should not be surprised to learn, mon camarade," said the soldier, as he heaped a slice of fish upon Alleyne's tranchoir of bread, "that you could read written things, since you are so ready with your brushes and pigments." "It would be shame to the good brothers of Beaulieu if I could not," he answered, "seeing that I have been their clerk this ten years back." The bowman looked at him with great respect.

"Think of that!" said he.
"And you with not a hair to your face, and a skin like a girl.