companion at eating that ever I had. Lo! I drink thy health." So saying,
he clapped the flask to his lips and cast his eyes aloft, while the good
wine flooded his throat. Then he passed the pottle to the Cook, who also
said, "Lo, I drink thy health, sweet fellow!" Nor was he behind Little
John in drinking any more than in eating.

"Now," quoth Little John, "thy voice is right round and sweet, jolly
lad. I doubt not thou canst sing a ballad most blithely; canst thou
not?"

"Truly, I have trolled one now and then," quoth the Cook, "yet I would
not sing alone."

"Nay, truly," said Little John, "that were but ill courtesy. Strike up
thy ditty, and I will afterward sing one to match it, if I can.

"So be it, pretty boy," quoth the Cook. "And hast thou e'er heard the
song of the Deserted Shepherdess?"

"Truly, I know not," answered Little John, "but sing thou and let me
hear."

Then the Cook took another draught from the pottle, and, clearing his
throat, sang right sweetly:


THE SONG OF THE DESERTED SHEPHERDESS

"_In Lententime, when leaves wax green,
And pretty birds begin to mate,