[Footnote 1: The name is spelled variously, Ethelney, Æthelney,
Ethelingay, &c. It was in Somersetshire, between the rivers Thone and
Parrot.]

[Footnote 2: As this incident has been so famous, it may amuse the
reader to peruse the different accounts which are given of it in the
most ancient records which now remain. They were written in Latin and
in Saxon, and, of course, as given here, they are translations. The
discrepancies which the reader will observe in the details illustrate
well the uncertainty which pertains to all historical accounts that go
back to so early an age.

"He led an unquiet life there, at his cow-herd's. It happened that, on
a certain day, the rustic wife of the man prepared to bake her bread.
The king, sitting then near the hearth, was making ready his bow and
arrows, and other warlike implements, when the ill-tempered woman
beheld the loaves burning at the fire. She ran hastily and removed
them, scolding at the king, and exclaiming, 'You man! you will not
turn the bread you see burning, but you will be very glad to eat it
when it is done!' This unlucky woman little thought she was addressing
the King Alfred."

In a certain Saxon history the story is told thus:

"He took shelter in a swain's house, and also him and his evil wife
diligently served. It happened that, on one day, the swain's wife
heated her oven, and the king sat by it warming himself by the fire.
She knew not then that he was the king. Then the evil woman was
excited, and spoke to the king with an angry mind. 'Turn thou these
loaves, that they burn not, for I see daily that thou art a great