Of My Shameful Sufferings and How I Was Delivered Therefrom

Then, all at once, the knowledge of my situation rushed upon me; I was in the pillory.

"Huroor! 'E be a-coming' round!" cried a voice.

"Time, too!" shouted a great, strapping fellow near by. "'Tis sinful shame to waste good bad-eggs on rogue as knoweth not when 'e do be hit! He be a mark as babe couldn't miss--a proper big 'un!" So saying, the fellow let fly an egg at me, the which, striking the board within an inch of my face, filled the air with suffocating stench.

This was a signal for me to become a target for all the garbage of the village. And now, indeed, good cause had I to be thankful for my thick mane of hair which (in some sort) saved me from sundry cuts and bruises, howbeit my face was soon clotted with blood and filth.

Vain were it to tell all the frenzy of rage that possessed me as I stood thus helpless against my howling tormentors, chief of whom was the great fellow I have mentioned, who (by reason of height and length of arm) struck me oftenest; once indeed when (beside myself with fury) I raised my head to curse him, he took me a blow in the mouth with some vile missile that set my very gums a-bleeding.

"Lord love ye, shipmate--that's the spirit!" said a voice below me, "But keep the wind o' them--don't let 'em rake ye--douse your figure-head. Lie low, shipmate, lie low and trust to your comrade Adam Penfeather--and that's me. Patience is the word!"