Quoth Will Stutely, "Now if I mistake not there is some stout battle with

cudgels going forward not far hence. I would fain see this pretty sight."
So saying, he and the whole party turned their steps whence the noise came.

When they had come near where all the tumult sounded they heard the three
blasts of Robin's bugle horn.

"Quick!" cried young David of Doncaster. "Our master is in sore need!"
So, without stopping a moment, they dashed forward with might and main

and burst forth from the covert into the highroad.
But what a sight was that which they saw! The road was all white with meal,

and five men stood there also white with meal from top to toe, for much
of the barley flour had fallen back upon the Miller.

"What is thy need, master?" cried Will Stutely. "And what doth
all this mean?"

"Why," quoth Robin in a mightypassion, "yon traitor felt low
hath come as nigh slaying me as e'er a man in all the world.

Hadst thou not come quickly, good Stutely, thy master had been dead."
Hereupon, while he and the three others rubbed the meal from their eyes,

and Will Stutely and his men brushed their clothes clean, he told them all;
how that he had meant to pass a jest upon the Miller, which same had turned

so grievously upon them.
"Quick, men, seize the vile Miller!" cried Stutely, who was nigh choking

with laughter as were the rest; whereupon several ran upon the stout fellow
and seizing him, bound his arms behind his back with bowstrings.

"Ha!" cried Robin, when they brought the trembling Miller to him.
"Thou wouldst murder me, wouldst thou? By my faith"--

Here he stopped and stood glaring upon the, Miller grimly.
But Robin's anger could not hold, so first his eyes twinkled,

and then in spite of all he broke into a laugh.
Now when they saw their master laugh, the yeomen who stood around

could contain themselves no longer, and a mighty shout of laughter
went up from all. Many could not stand, but rolled upon the ground

from pure merriment.
"What is thy name, good fellow?" said Robin at last to the Miller,

who stood gaping and as though he were in amaze.
"Alas, sir, I am Midge, the Miller's son," said he in a frightened voice.

"I make my vow," quoth merry Robin, smiting him upon the shoulder,
"thou art the mightiest Midge that e'er mine eyes beheld.

Now wilt thou leave thy dusty mill and come and join my band?
By my faith, thou art too stout a man to spend thy days betwixt

the hopper and the till."
"Then truly, if thou dost forgive me for the blows I struck,

not knowing who thou wast, I will join with thee right merrily,"
said the Miller.

"Then have I gained this day," quoth Robin, "the three stoutest yeomen
in all Nottinghamshire. We will get us away to the greenwood tree, and there

hold a merry feast in honor of our new friends, and mayhap a cup or two
of good sack and canary may mellow the soreness of my poor joints and bones,

though I warrant it will be many a day before I am again the man I was."
So saying, he turned and led the way, the rest following, and so they

entered the forest once more and were lost to sight.
So that night all was ablaze with crackling fires in the woodlands,

for though Robin and those others spoken of, only excepting Midge,
the Miller's son, had many a sore bump and bruise here and there on

their bodies, they were still not so sore in the joints that they could not
enjoy a jolly feast given all in welcome to the new members of the band.

Thus with songs and jesting and laughter that echoed through the deeper
and more silent nooks of the forest, the night passed quickly along,

as such merry times are wont to do, until at last each man sought his
couch and silence fell on all things and all things seemed to sleep.

But Little John's tongue was ever one that was not easy
of guidance, so that, inch by inch, the whole story of his fight

with the Tanner and Robin's fight with Will Scarlet leaked out.
And so I have told it that you may laugh at the merry tale

along with me.
Robin Hood and Allan a Dale

IT HAS just been told how three unlucky adventures fell upon Robin Hood
and Little John all in one day bringing them sore ribs and aching bones.

So next we will tell how they made up for those ill happenings by a good
action that came about not without some small pain to Robin.

Two days had passed by, and somewhat of the soreness had passed
away from Robin Hood's joints, yet still, when he moved of a sudden

and without thinking, pain here and there would, as it were,
jog him, crying, "Thou hast had a drubbing, good fellow."

The day was bright and jocund, and the morning dew still lay upon the grass.
Under the greenwood tree sat Robin Hood; on one side was Will Scarlet,

lying at full length upon his back, gazing up into the clear sky,
with hands clasped behind his head; upon the other side sat Little John,

fashioning a cudgel out of a stout crab-tree limb; elsewhere upon the grass
sat or lay many others of the band.

"By the faith of my heart," quoth merry Robin, "I do bethink me
that we have had no one to dine with us for this long time.

Our money groweth low in the purse, for no one hath come to pay
a reckoning for many a day. Now busk thee, good Stutely, and choose

thee six men, and get thee gone to Fosse Way or thereabouts,
and see that thou bringest someone to eat with us this evening.

Meantime we will prepare a grand feast to do whosoever may come
the greater honor. And stay, good Stutely. I would have thee

take Will Scarlet with thee, for it is meet that he should become
acquaint with the ways of the forest."

"Now do I thank thee, good master," quoth Stutely, springing to his feet,
"that thou hast chosen me for this adventure. Truly, my limbs

do grow slack through abiding idly here. As for two of my six,
I will choose Midge the Miller and Arthur a Bland, for, as well

thou knowest, good master, they are stout fists at the quarterstaff.
Is it not so, Little John?"

At this all laughed but Little John and Robin, who twisted up his face.
"I can speak for Midge," said he, "and likewise for my cousin Scarlet.

This very blessed morn I looked at my ribs and found them as many colors
as a beggar's cloak."

So, having chosen four more stout fellows, Will Stutely and his band set
forth to Fosse Way, to find whether they might not come across some rich

guest to feast that day in Sherwood with Robin and his band.
For all the livelong day they abided near this highway.

Each man had brought with him a good store of cold meat and a bottle
of stout March beer to stay his stomach till the homecoming.

So when high noontide had come they sat them down upon the soft grass,
beneath a green and wide-spreading hawthorn bush, and held a hearty

and jovial feast. After this, one kept watch while the others napped,
for it was a still and sultry day.

Thus they passed the time pleasantly enow, but no guest such as they
desired showed his face in all the time that they lay hidden there.

Many passed along the dusty road in the glare of the sun:
now it was a bevy of chattering damsels merrily tripping along;

now it was a plodding tinker; now a merry shepherd lad;
now a sturdy farmer; all gazing ahead along the road,

unconscious of the seven stout fellows that lay hidden so near them.
Such were the travelers along the way; but fat abbot, rich esquire,

or money-laden usurer came there none.
At last the sun began to sink low in the heavens; the light

grew red and the shadows long. The air grew full of silence,
the birds twittered sleepily, and from afar came, faint and clear,

the musical song of the milkmaidcalling the kine home
to the milking.

Then Stutely arose from where he was lying. "A plague of such ill luck!"
quoth he. "Here have we abided all day, and no bird worth

the shooting, so to speak, hath come within reach of our bolt.