Thursday, July 26, 2007
Sir Doon writes to his companions...
It be te year 564 in of Our Lord Jesu Christ to Camelot an udder partes be this lettre tayke.
Oy thar Hounds!
I hope this lettre fynds ye well and whole. A ten year a come synce I last heerd of ye an I been busy. I took the good Sir Bradwen's example and kilt all te cats and sprayed ther bloode on me fields and won'tcha know it worked! Fields bloom ryte quick after tha, so now we have a new plantynge tradition here at Black Hills called The Cattin'. Priest got his loincloth all knotted up o'er it, but he eats the bread and drinks the beer, so he hasn't a ryte te be fussy, like.
Me ladye, the Goodlye Alyce of Crediton, been breedin' pups like a champion. Now I gots six children, and I'm proud te say tha I've a third son, whom I named Leodigrance after my former sponser and friend, and when he grows he'll be the Knight of the White Hen. I'll miss Peck, but she'll lay the tin anew for him. Bless the littl' chick.
I'm havin' the priest scratch this here lettre to tell ye that I'm throwin me support behynde King Arthur and am musterynge for next summer. I hope ye will be thar te meete and togethyr we'll fyte that bastarte Mordred. He tryd te levy troops and taxes from Devon, beyond our yearly tribute, an we ain't hearin none of tha. Arthur's our man.
You'll see me hort unner the Banner of te Whyte Hen as usual, but look for Black Hills on a Green Field an you'll fyn us. Looks like two black tits, like. Ye canna miss it.
Evver yer Doon.
Oy thar Hounds!
I hope this lettre fynds ye well and whole. A ten year a come synce I last heerd of ye an I been busy. I took the good Sir Bradwen's example and kilt all te cats and sprayed ther bloode on me fields and won'tcha know it worked! Fields bloom ryte quick after tha, so now we have a new plantynge tradition here at Black Hills called The Cattin'. Priest got his loincloth all knotted up o'er it, but he eats the bread and drinks the beer, so he hasn't a ryte te be fussy, like.
Me ladye, the Goodlye Alyce of Crediton, been breedin' pups like a champion. Now I gots six children, and I'm proud te say tha I've a third son, whom I named Leodigrance after my former sponser and friend, and when he grows he'll be the Knight of the White Hen. I'll miss Peck, but she'll lay the tin anew for him. Bless the littl' chick.
I'm havin' the priest scratch this here lettre to tell ye that I'm throwin me support behynde King Arthur and am musterynge for next summer. I hope ye will be thar te meete and togethyr we'll fyte that bastarte Mordred. He tryd te levy troops and taxes from Devon, beyond our yearly tribute, an we ain't hearin none of tha. Arthur's our man.
You'll see me hort unner the Banner of te Whyte Hen as usual, but look for Black Hills on a Green Field an you'll fyn us. Looks like two black tits, like. Ye canna miss it.
Evver yer Doon.
