would take off their hats to me too. As it was, they looked as though they did not even see me at all."
"Well, well!" said his friends, "if you are nothing else, you can't say you're not as black as a priest. And now we are about it, we can go to the sale of the old priest, who is dead, and have a glass, and meanwhile you can buy his gown and hood." That was what the neighbours said; and what they said he did, and when he got home he had not so much as a penny left.
"Now you have both means and money, I dare say," said his goody, when she heard he had sold his charcoal.
"I should think so. Means, indeed!" said the charcoal-burner, "for you must know I have been ordained priest. Here you see both gown and hood."
"Nay, I'll never believe that," said the goody; "strong ale makes big words. You are just as bad, whichever end of you turns up; that you are," she said.
"You shall neither scold nor sorrow for the pit, for its last coal is quenched and cold," said the charcoal-burner.
It fell out one day that many people in priests' robes passed by the charcoal-burner's cottage on their way to the king's palace, so that it was easy to see that there was something in the wind there. Yes! the charcoal burner would go too, and so he put on his gown and hood.
His goody thought it would be far better to stay at home; for even if he chanced to hold a horse for some great man, the drink-money he got would only go down his throat, like so much before it.
