Was chatting over supper to one of the language students from whom the Archdruid is making a tidy sum ("There's nothing to worry about: they've all signed the Porvoo Agreement"), and he was joining in the excitement about Young Keith's poetry machine.
He seemed a little confused, and seemed to think it was some sort of mechanism for slaughtering and roasting small chickens. As he explained in his heavily accented English: "I am big bantam-eater."
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