Not many ages since a parson of a country village was accused to a committee that he was a great gamester at cards, being so addicted thereunto that he would ofttimes play on Sundays. The committee thus informed, sent for the parson to answer this accusation; who receiving the warrant made no excuse nor delay, but with all haste made his appearance before them; with him also came the informer to justify his accusation. Being thus met together, the committee began to reprove the parson for being addicted to such a vice, as to be noted for a common player at cards. "Indeed," said the parson, "I am so far from it, that I know not what a pair of cards meaneth." "Sir," quoth the informer, "if you please to search his pockets, I believe you will find a pair there at present, for he seldom goeth without such tackling." Whereupon the committee commanding his pocket to be searched, they found a pair of cards there indeed, but the parson denied them to be cards, saying, "They may be cards to you, but to me they are an almanack." And being demanded how he could make it appear, he answered thus: "First," quoth he, "here is as many suits of cards as there be quarters in a year, and as many court cards as there be months in a year, and as many cards as there be weeks in a year, and as many spots as there be days in a year. Then when I look upon the king it puts me in mind of the allegiance that I owe to my sovereign lord the king; looking upon the queen puts me in mind of the allegiance that I owe to the queen; the ten puts me in mind of the Ten Commandments; the nine, of the nine muses; the eight, of the eight altitudes; the seven, of the seven liberal sciences; the six, of six days we ought to labour in; the five, of the five senses; the four, of the four evangelists; the three, of the Trinity; the two, of the two sacraments; and the ace, that we ought to worship but one God." Quoth the committee, "If this be all the use you make of them we can find no fault with you. But Mr. Parson, of all the cards you have nominated, you have forgot the knave; pray, what use make you of him?" "O sir," said he (pointing to his accuser), "that is your worship's informer." "Poor Robin having ended his tale," says his friend, "I suppose that was the same parson that used to read his litany every day of the week excepting Sunday, and I being constant hearer of him, learnt it as perfectly as my pater noster." CHAPTER XIV. _Poor Robin's Litany._ From being turned out of doors, From town-rats, and ale-house scores, From lowsie queans and pocky bores, _Libera nos._ From tailors' bills and drapers' books, From sluttish maids and nasty cooks, From froward wives and crabbed looks, _Libera nos._ From breaking pipes and broken glasses, From drinking healths and drunken asses, From lying lubbers and lisping lasses, _Libera nos._