Most of the entries in the 'Chronicle' are bare and brief, but sometimes, especially in the accounts of Alfred's own splendid exploits, a writer is roused to spirited narrative, occasionally in verse; and in the tenth century two great battles against invading Northmen, at Brunanburh and Maldon, produced the only important extant pieces of Anglo-Saxon poetry which certainly belong to the West
Saxon period.
Guests also were invited in great numbers; and in the necessity in which he then found himself of courting popularity, Prince John had extended his invitation to a few distinguished Saxon and Danish families, as well as to the Norman nobility and gentry of the neighbourhood.
Cedric and Athelstane were both dressed in the ancient Saxon garb, which, although not unhandsome in itself, and in the present instance composed of costly materials, was so remote in shape and appearance from that of the other guests, that Prince John took great credit to himself with Waldemar Fitzurse for refraining from laughter at a sight which the fashion of the day rendered ridiculous.
``By St Anthony!'' answered the black-brow'd giant, ``I will consent that your highness shall hold me a Saxon, if either Cedric or Wilfred, or the best that ever bore English blood, shall wrench from me the gift with which your highness has graced me.''
``Whoever shall call thee Saxon, Sir Baron,'' replied Cedric, offended at a mode of expression by which the Normans frequently expressed their habitual contempt of the English, ``will do thee an honour as great as it is undeserved.''
``Their singular abstemiousness and temperance,'' said De Bracy, forgetting the plan which promised him a Saxon bride.
While, with smooth and smiling cheek, the courtiers, each in turn, followed their Prince's example, and aimed a shaft of ridicule at Cedric, the face of the Saxon became inflamed with passion, and he glanced his eyes fiercely from one to another, as if the quick succession of so many injuries had prevented his replying to them in turn; or, like a baited bull, who, surrounded by his tormentors, is at a loss to choose from among them the immediate object of his revenge.
``have been the follies and vices of our race, a Saxon would have been held nidering,'' * (the most emphatic
"You know that little, wrinkly Mexican that sells wire puzzles?" Saxon queried.
"There's Bert now," Saxon whispered, as they came around the second time.
But Saxon noted the heightened color in the other's cheek, and felt her quicker breathing.
"Did you see that other one?" Mary asked, as she backed Saxon in a long slide across the far end of the pavilion.
Bert and Mary addressed each other by their given names, but to Saxon Bert was "Mr.
Her first name's Saxon. Ain't it a scream of a name?"
Saxon appraised the suit on the instant, and her secret judgment was NOT A CENT LESS THAN FIFTY DOLLARS.
