"Lord! lord! no more cursed wine will I drink!" Then at ten paces distant, a clumsy attendant let fall a trencher-- "Take it off my foot, you knave!" Afar off another entered gallanting a calabash--"Look out for my toe, you hound!" During all this, the attendants tenderly nursed him.

And in good time, with its thousand fangs, the gout-fiend departed for a while.
Reprieved, the old king brightened up; by degrees becoming jolly as ever.
"Come! let us be merry again," he cried, "what shall we eat?
and what shall we drink?
that infernal gout is gone; come, what will your worships have ?" So at it once more we went.
But of our feast, little more remains to be related than this;--that out of it, grew a wondrous kindness between Borabolla and Jarl.
Strange to tell, from the first our fat host had regarded my Viking with a most friendly eye.

Still stranger to add, this feeling was returned.

But though they thus fancied each other, they were very unlike; Borabolla and Jarl.

Nevertheless, thus is it ever.