CHAPTER II
NICHOLAS ATTWOOD’S HOME

ICK Attwood’s father came home that night bitterly
wroth.

The burgesses of the town council had ordered him to
build a chimney upon his house, or pay ten shillings fine;
and shillings were none too plenty with Simon Attwood,
the tanner of Old Town.

“Soul and body o’ man!” said he, “they talk as if they
owned the world, and a man could na live upon it save by
their leave. I must build my fire in a pipe, or pay ten
shillings fine? Things ha’ come to a pretty pass—a pretty
pass, indeed!” He kicked the rushes that were strewn
upon the floor, and ground the clay with his heel. “This
litter will ha’ to be all took out. Atkins will be here at
six ? the morning to do the job, and a lovely mess he will
make o’ the house!”

“ Do na fret thee, Simon,” said Mistress Attwood, gen-
tly. “The rushes need a changing, and I ha’ pined this
long while to lay the floor wi’ new clay from Shottery
common. "T is the sweetest earth! Nick shall take the

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