Grim did not want for food, for he was a good fisherman both with net and hook, and he would go out in his boat and catch all manner of fish—­sturgeons, turbot, salmon, cod, herrings, mackerel, flounders, and lampreys, and he never came home empty-handed.  He had four baskets made for himself and his sons, and in these they used to carry the fish to Lincoln, to sell them, coming home laden with meat and meal, and hemp and rope to make new nets and lines.  Thus they lived for twelve years.  But Havelok saw that Grim worked very hard, and being now grown a strong lad, he bethought him “I eat more than Grim and all his five children together, and yet do nothing to earn the bread.  I will no longer be idle, for it is a shame for a man not to work.”  So he got Grim to let him have a basket like the rest, and next day took it out heaped with fish, and sold them well, bringing home silver money for them.  After that he never stopped at home idle.  But soon there arose a great dearth, and corn grew so dear that they could not take fish enough to buy bread for all.  Then Havelok, since he needed so much to eat, determined that he would no longer be a burden to the fisherman.  So Grim made him a coat of a piece of an old sail, and Havelok set off to Lincoln barefoot to seek for work.

It so befell that Earl Godrich’s cook, Bertram, wanted a scullion, and took Havelok into his service.  There was plenty to eat and plenty to do.  Havelok drew water and chopped wood, and brought twigs to make fires, and carried heavy tubs and dishes, but was always merry and blythe.  Little children loved to play with him; and grown knights and nobles would stop to talk and laugh with him, although he wore nothing but rags of old sail-cloth which scarcely covered his great limbs, and all admired how fair and strong a man God had made him.  The cook liked Havelok so much that he bought him new clothes, with shoes and hose; and when Havelok put them on, no man in the kingdom seemed his peer for strength and beauty.  He was the tallest man in Lincoln, and the strongest in England.

Earl Godrich assembled a Parliament in Lincoln, and afterward held games.  Strong men and youths came to try for mastery at the game of putting the stone.  It was a mighty stone, the weight of an heifer.  He was a stalwart man who could lift it to his knee, and few could stir it from the ground.  So they strove together, and he who put the stone an inch farther than the rest was to be made champion.  But Havelok, though he had never seen the like before, took up the heavy stone, and put it twelve feet beyond the rest, and after that none would contend with him.  Now this matter being greatly talked about, it came to the ears of Earl Godrich, who bethought him—­“Did not Athelwold bid me marry his daughter to the strongest man alive?  In truth, I will marry her to this cook’s scullion.  That will abase her pride; and when she is wedded to a bondsman she will be powerless to injure me.  That will be better than shutting