s.

Up rose Robin Hood one merry morn when all the birds were singing
blithely among the leaves, and up rose all his merry men, each fellow
washing his head and hands in the cold brown brook that leaped laughing
from stone to stone. Then said Robin, "For fourteen days have we seen no
sport, so now I will go abroad to seek adventures forthwith. But tarry
ye, my merry men all, here in the greenwood; only see that ye mind well
my call. Three blasts upon the bugle horn I will blow in my hour of
need; then come quickly, for I shall want your aid."

So saying, he strode away through the leafy forest glades until he
had come to the verge of Sherwood. There he wandered for a long time,
through highway and byway, through dingly dell and forest skirts. Now he
met a fair buxom lass in a shady lane, and each gave the other a merry
word and passed their way; now he saw a fair lady upon an ambling pad,
to whom he doffed his cap, and who bowed sedately in return to the
fair youth; now he saw a fat monk on a pannier-laden ass; now a gallant
knight, with spear and shield and armor that flashed brightly in the
sunlight; now a page clad in crimson; and now a stout burgher from good
Nottingham Town, pacing along with serious footsteps; all these sights
he saw, but adventure found he none. At last he took a road by the
forest skirts, a bypath that dipped toward a broad, pebbly stream
spanned by a narrow bridge made of a log of wood. As he drew nigh this
bridge he saw a tall stranger coming from the other side. Thereupon
Robin quickened his pace, as did the stranger likewise, each thinking to
cross first.

"Now stand thou back," quoth Robin, "and let the better man cross
first."

"Nay," answered the stranger, "then stand back shine own self, for the
better man, I wet, am I."

"That will we presently see," quoth Robin, "and meanwhile stand thou
where thou art, or else, by the bright brow of Saint AElfrida, I will
show thee right good Nottingham play with a clothyard shaft betwixt thy
ribs."

"Now," quoth the stranger, "I will tan thy hide till it be as many
colors as a beggar's cloak, if thou darest so much as touch a string of
that same bow that thou holdest in thy hands."

"Thou pratest like an ass," said Robin, "for I could send this shaft
clean through thy proud heart before a curtal friar could say grace over
a roast goose at Michaelmastide."

"And thou pratest like a coward," answered the stranger, "for thou
standest there wi