"Master Smith may fill for himself, if he wishes for liquor,"
answered the youthful Celt. "The son of my father has demeaned
himself enough already for one evening."

"That's well crowed for a cockerel," said Henry; "but thou art so
far right, my lad, that the man deserves to die of thirst who will
not drink without a cupbearer."

But his entertainer took not the contumacy of the young apprentice
with so much patience. "Now, by my honest word, and by the best
glove I ever made," said Simon, "thou shalt help him with liquor
from that cup and flagon, if thee and I are to abide under one
roof."

Conachar arose sullenly upon hearing this threat, and, approaching
the smith, who had just taken the tankard in his hand, and was raising
it to his head, he contrived to stumble against him and jostle him
so awkwardly, that the foaming ale gushed over his face, person,
and dress. Good natured as the smith, in spite of his warlike
propensities, really was in the utmost degree, his patience failed
under such a provocation. He seized the young man's throat, being
the part which came readiest to his grasp, as Conachar arose from
the pretended stumble, and pressing it severely as he cast the lad
from him, exclaimed: "Had this been in another place, young gallows
bird, I had stowed the lugs out of thy head, as I have done to some
of thy clan before thee."

Conachar recovered his feet with the activity of a tiger, and
exclaimed: "Never shall you live to make that boast again!" drew a