Her earliest recollections
were those of the old nursery rhymes, with which Agnes had not failed to
store her memory. But the giant killers and their champions now failed
to interest and excite. Other feelings than those of terror and of
wonder were in operation, requiring a fresh class of stimulants for
their support--tales of chivalry and of love, that all-enduring passion,
where maidens and their lovers sighed for twice seven years, and all too
brief a trial of their truth and constancy! As she listened, her soul
seemed to hang on the minstrel's tongue; that erratic troubadour, Gaffer
Gee, being a welcome and frequent visitor at Grislehurst.
One night he had tarried late in the little chamber, where she was wont
to give him audience. She seemed more wishful to protract his stay than
heretofore.
"Now for the ballad of Sir Bertine, the famous Lancashire knight, who
was killed at St Alban's, fighting for the glorious red rose of
Lancaster."
Nothing loth, he commenced the following ditty:--
"The brave Sir Bartine Entwisel
Hath donned his coat of steel,
And left his hall and stately home,
To fight for Englond's weal.
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