Then John Collins would shake his
head, and vow he could pass no cannon for the King's
service that were not perfect. Saints! How Sebastian
stormed! I know, for we sat on this bench sharing our
sorrows inter-common.
'When Sebastian had fumed away six weeks at Lindens
and gotten just six serpentines, Dirk Brenzett, Master of
the Cygnet hoy, sends me word that the block of stone he
was fetching me from France for our new font he'd hove
overboard to lighten his ship, chased by Andrew Barton
up to Rye Port.'
'Ah! The pirate!' said Dan.
'Yes. And while I am tearing my hair over this,
Ticehurst Will, my best mason, comes to me shaking, and
vowing that the Devil, horned, tailed, and chained, has
run out on him from the church-tower, and the men
would work there no more. So I took 'em off the foundations,
which we were strengthening, and went into the
Bell Tavern for a cup of ale. Says Master John Collins:
"Have it your own way, lad; but if I was you, I'd take the
sinnification o' the sign, and leave old Barnabas' Church
alone!" And they all wagged their sinful heads, and
agreed. Less afraid of the Devil than of me - as I saw later.
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