ABSTRACT
It is to be read or to be heard of how, in the punyship or nonage of Cerdick Sands, when the best houses and walls there were of mud or canvas or poldavy’s entiltments, a fisherman of Yarmouth, having drawn so many herrings he wist not what to do withal, hung the residue that he could not sell nor spend in the sooty roof of his shed a-drying. Or say thus: his shed was a cabinet in decimo sexto builded on four crutches, and he had no room in it but in that garret or excelsis to lodge them, where if they were dry, let them be dry; for in the sea they had drunk too much, and now he would force them do penance for it.
