ring end while Jack turned his back on the table and took the pole again, this time in his left hand with reversed grip. He gave a little grunt and lifted the pole once more, the pole stretched out behind him. This time he bent slightly from the waist to help with the awkward angle, and the pole rose again, still straightand level with the table. Again he held it for a short while, then lowered it easily to the table.
Now Molly challenged the company: let him who could lift the stick level with the tabletop, and hold it for three breaths, and lower it smoothly, step forward and try; and double the bet for the reverse lift immediately after. A clamor arose among the local stalwarts, farm boys mostly, and one of the shire-reeve’s men and even Ernald, who had failed at the attempt the last two times Molly’s caravan had come by. His brothers cheered him on with good-natured malice, and then raised their bets on Jack.
Two carters, strong of body from the constant loading and unloading of cargo, placed their bets with Osbert and stepped into the line that formed by the table. Carters were often at the inn: Osbert traded his hospitality—lodging for cartmen and their beasts, security for their wains and cargo—in exchange for free transport of goods needed to supply the inn.
One by one the young men stepped up to the table. Now they discovered that ten pounds held close to the body is not at all like ten pounds a good English yard away. They grasped; they strained; usually the bar rose not at all, but sometimes it began to rise, faster at the end nearer the lifter, and wobbled, and the head sank quickly back to rest. Ernald managed to clear the table for a moment, only to have the weighted end dip and dive back downward, to hit the table edge with a sharp crack, while his faithless brothers hooted and slapped one another on the shoulders. One of the carters lost his hold entirely, and the weight and stick thumped to the rush-strewn floor on the far side, narrowly missing one of the deerhounds that lay beneath the tables. The hound bounded to its feet and scuttled aside, then turned a look of reproach on Nemain, who stood nearest the fallen weight: plainly it thought she had thrown it.
As the first contestants tried and failed, the men toward the endof the line jeered, and the first two lads looked surprised and ashamed at the difficulty. But as more and more of them struggled and huffed and cursed and failed, and laid down their copper piece before Molly or went to Osbert to borrow a coin against a mark on his tally stick, the first to lose began to recover their good cheer. That so many had not succeeded in even clearing the table demonstrated the difficulty of the feat, which had appeared so easy just a short while ago. The last few grasped the handle with a kind of grim resignation, and grunted, and joined the rest in defeat.
S O THE EVENING PASSED . The villagers left in two groups, one shortly after the other, and Hob wandered out after them into the cold night air to see the gates swung back by the dog handlers. They swung the gates outward, forcing the dogs back into the run, until the edge of each gate touched the outer wall, making a safe passage through the run. The outer gates were then opened, and the crowd of folk from the farms and from Bywood Old End set forth, several men bearing torches. They walked to the road and turned to the right, and were out of sight behind the trees, although for a brief time Hob could hear their calls to one another, some ragged attempts at song, and once a general burst of laughter.
The outer gates were swung shut and locked, and then the inner, which once again allowed the dogs to circle freely around the ring. Hob scurried back to the inn, glad to return to the fire’s warmth. But Molly sent him right out again, along with Nemain, to return the musical instruments and the weight and stick to the wagons.
When they returned, Hob managed to wheedle a bowl of peas and lentils
Now Molly challenged the company: let him who could lift the stick level with the tabletop, and hold it for three breaths, and lower it smoothly, step forward and try; and double the bet for the reverse lift immediately after. A clamor arose among the local stalwarts, farm boys mostly, and one of the shire-reeve’s men and even Ernald, who had failed at the attempt the last two times Molly’s caravan had come by. His brothers cheered him on with good-natured malice, and then raised their bets on Jack.
Two carters, strong of body from the constant loading and unloading of cargo, placed their bets with Osbert and stepped into the line that formed by the table. Carters were often at the inn: Osbert traded his hospitality—lodging for cartmen and their beasts, security for their wains and cargo—in exchange for free transport of goods needed to supply the inn.
One by one the young men stepped up to the table. Now they discovered that ten pounds held close to the body is not at all like ten pounds a good English yard away. They grasped; they strained; usually the bar rose not at all, but sometimes it began to rise, faster at the end nearer the lifter, and wobbled, and the head sank quickly back to rest. Ernald managed to clear the table for a moment, only to have the weighted end dip and dive back downward, to hit the table edge with a sharp crack, while his faithless brothers hooted and slapped one another on the shoulders. One of the carters lost his hold entirely, and the weight and stick thumped to the rush-strewn floor on the far side, narrowly missing one of the deerhounds that lay beneath the tables. The hound bounded to its feet and scuttled aside, then turned a look of reproach on Nemain, who stood nearest the fallen weight: plainly it thought she had thrown it.
As the first contestants tried and failed, the men toward the endof the line jeered, and the first two lads looked surprised and ashamed at the difficulty. But as more and more of them struggled and huffed and cursed and failed, and laid down their copper piece before Molly or went to Osbert to borrow a coin against a mark on his tally stick, the first to lose began to recover their good cheer. That so many had not succeeded in even clearing the table demonstrated the difficulty of the feat, which had appeared so easy just a short while ago. The last few grasped the handle with a kind of grim resignation, and grunted, and joined the rest in defeat.
S O THE EVENING PASSED . The villagers left in two groups, one shortly after the other, and Hob wandered out after them into the cold night air to see the gates swung back by the dog handlers. They swung the gates outward, forcing the dogs back into the run, until the edge of each gate touched the outer wall, making a safe passage through the run. The outer gates were then opened, and the crowd of folk from the farms and from Bywood Old End set forth, several men bearing torches. They walked to the road and turned to the right, and were out of sight behind the trees, although for a brief time Hob could hear their calls to one another, some ragged attempts at song, and once a general burst of laughter.
The outer gates were swung shut and locked, and then the inner, which once again allowed the dogs to circle freely around the ring. Hob scurried back to the inn, glad to return to the fire’s warmth. But Molly sent him right out again, along with Nemain, to return the musical instruments and the weight and stick to the wagons.
When they returned, Hob managed to wheedle a bowl of peas and lentils
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