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Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"Peregrine's Progress"


"Well," said she again, "d'ye smell it?"
Starting, I glanced up, to find her busied with the comb again and
immediately recognised that here was neither goddess nor dryad but
merely a well-shaped, comely young woman with extraordinarily long
hair; which fact established, my hunger (momentarily forgotten)
returned with keener pang than ever.
"Are ye going to sleep again?" she enquired, finding me silent.
"No!"
"Well, don't you smell it?"
"Pray what is it?"
"A duck as I be roasting to our supper."
"Duck!" I repeated, mouth watering. "I have breathed its enticement
ever since I awoke."
"Wi' plenty o' sage and onion, a new loaf, and cheese!" she added,
with a nod of her shapely head at each item, "unless," said she,
eyeing me askance, "you're minded to starve--as you said?"
At this I grew very despondent and, sighing, watched her twist her
glossy hair into two long braids and tie up the ends with small
ribbands which I thought a very quaint and pretty fashion.
She now bade me help her to set up the supper table, which proved to
be a weather-beaten half-door propped upon baskets. This done, she
took the candle and descended below, I following; and here, within an
old cauldron pierced with many holes, burned a fire, above which was a
covered pot whence emanated that fragrance I have already mentioned,
but stronger and more savoury than ever now, so that my hunger was
wrought to a passionate yearning, more especially when, having removed
the pot from the fire, she lifted the cover.


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