For we did sally forth to the Wealden land this Sunday last to meet our brethren and talk amongst ourselves of the soon to be returning light and the longer days when we can once again sow our peas. But today was for merriment and much laughter with lanterns held aloft and merry-go-down to be supped. Upon our heads we wore wreaths of evergreen finery and watched as travelling minstrels dressed top to toe in the green of the forest did amuse us with tales of the hoodening horse
I was, I swear, a little carked of the other troupe for they spun and weaved like puca as the dimpse drew in. They must have been turngiddy...
But afore long I was to see that I was but a poop-noddy and need not be afeared for they were again players with mysteries of magical hunters and stags.
T'was a day of good lubberward and hum but tomorrow 'tis a day of darg once more.
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