there, good and bad. There is love for honour and beauty, laughter
for a jest, impatience for a dreary tale, ridicule for a worn-out
one, good-fellowship and joy in the open air, loose tongues and
travellers' stories, drinking by the way, and mishaps by the road.
Travelling was difficult, for the roads were full of holes and very
muddy and dirty, and a man must either walk or go on horseback. Some
of the party had bad horses and some were anything but expert riders,
so that it took four days to ride the fifty-six miles from London to
Canterbury. The nights were spent at inns where many shared one room,
and beds were not as clean as they might have been. But the pilgrims
made a happy party, as you will see, for they beguiled the way with
stories. Chaucer tells these stories in his account of his
pilgrimage. He never completed the account, however, but left some
gaps in the story. The general plan of the work is clear enough, and
in this little book the gaps have been bridged in a manner consistent
with Chaucer's account of the journey.

Chaucer's language is different from ours of today, and although easy
to read when one is used to it, is difficult at first. Therefore
these tales are retold in this little book in our present-day
language and in prose instead of verse. They lose much of Chaucer's
vivacity and spirit by this translation, but try and read the
originals for yourself one day, and learn to love one who has been
dear for his humanity, kindliness and humour to poets and ordinary
folk alike, from 1370 to now.



CONTENTS