"To shoe my horse, good dame," answered Tressiliany; "you may see that he
has thrown a fore-foot shoe."

"Master Holiday!" exclaimed the dame, without returning any direct
answer--"Master Herasmus Holiday, come and speak to mon, and please
you."

"FAVETE LINGUIS," answered a voice from within; "I cannot now come
forth, Gammer Sludge, being in the very sweetest bit of my morning
studies."

"Nay, but, good now, Master Holiday, come ye out, do ye. Here's a mon
would to Wayland Smith, and I care not to show him way to devil; his
horse hath cast shoe."

"QUID MIHI CUM CABALLO?" replied the man of learning from within; "I
think there is but one wise man in the hundred, and they cannot shoe a
horse without him!"

And forth came the honest pedagogue, for such his dress bespoke him. A
long, lean, shambling, stooping figure was surmounted by a head thatched
with lank, black hair somewhat inclining to grey. His features had the
cast of habitual authority, which I suppose Dionysius carried with him
from the throne to the schoolmaster's pulpit, and bequeathed as a legacy
to all of the same profession, A black buckram cassock was gathered at
his middle with a belt, at which hung, instead of knife or weapon, a
goodly leathern pen-and-ink case. His ferula was stuck on the other
side, like Harlequin's wooden sword; and he carried in his hand the
tattered volume which he had been busily perusing.