Now after these knaveries came Owlglass unto Stade, and there he again hired him unto a shoemaker. And when that he began the first day to work, his master went unto market, and of a boor bought a load of wood, and then came home, and commanded that the boor should have a soup given unto him. But he found no one at home; for the goodwife and the maid had gone forth, and Owlglass was alone within the house; and he was sewing shoes. And the master was obliged again to go to the market. So spake he to Owlglass, and said, that he should make ready a soup for the boor; for that had he promised him into their bargain. And Owlglass answered: “Yea;” then the boor unloaded the wood, and came into the house. But when that Owlglass sought in the cupboard, and had made ready the soup, he found nothing to flavour it save shoemaker’s oil; so he took the bottle, and poured therefrom a goodly measure into the soup, and a fine flavour was there then therein. And when that the boor began to eat, he tasted that it was very evil; but he was an hungered, and he soon ate up the soup. In no long time thereafter came the shoemaker home, and asked the boor how the soup tasted. And the boor answered him: “That it was good all but one thing, and that was, that it savoured woundily of new shoes.” Then departed the boor. And the shoemaker laughed, and said unto Owlglass: “What didst thou put in the soup thou gavest to the boor?” And Owlglass answered, and said: “Thou commandest me that I should take that I found and put in the soup; and I found nought but the shoemaker’s oil. Therefore put I that in.” And the shoemaker said: “It is well, and quite good enough to give for a bargain to a boor.” And so were the two knaves contented; but as two of a trade never can agree together, in no long time parted they, and Owlglass continued his journey.