Michael
Produced by Donald Lainson MICHAEL by E. F. Benson CHAPTER I Though there was nothing visibly graceful about Michael Comber, he apparently had the art of giving gracefully. He had already told his cousin Francis, who sat on the arm of the sofa by his table, that there was no earthly excuse for his having run into debt; but now when the moment came for giving, he wrote the cheque quickly and eagerly, as if
The chyld may rue that ys un-born,
It was the mor pittA".
The dryvars thorowe the woodA"s went,
For to reas the dear;
Bomen byckarte uppone the bent
With ther browd aras cleare.
Then the wyld thorowe the woodA"s went,
On every sydA" shear;
Grea-hondes thorowe the grevis glent,
For to kyll thear dear.
The begane in Chyviat the hyls above,
Yerly on a monnynday;
Be that it drewe to the oware off none,
A hondrith fat hartes ded ther lay.
The blewe a mort uppone the bent,
The semblyd on sydis shear;
To the quyrry then the PersA" went
To se the bryttlynge off the deare.
He sayd, "It was the Duglas promys
This day to meet me hear;
But I wyste he wold faylle, verament:"
Produced by Donald Lainson MICHAEL by E. F. Benson CHAPTER I Though there was nothing visibly graceful about Michael Comber, he apparently had the art of giving gracefully. He had already told his cousin Francis, who sat on the arm of the sofa by his table, that there was no earthly excuse for his having run into debt; but now when the moment came for giving, he wrote the cheque quickly and eagerly, as if