dealt him another blow upon the ribs.

"Hold!" roared Little John. "Wouldst thou strike a man when he is down?"

"Ay, marry would I," quoth the Tanner, giving him another thwack with
his staff.

"Stop!" roared Little John. "Help! Hold, I say! I yield me! I yield me,
I say, good fellow!"

"Hast thou had enough?" asked the Tanner grimly, holding his staff
aloft.

"Ay, marry, and more than enough."

"And thou dost own that I am the better man of the two?"

"Yea, truly, and a murrain seize thee!" said Little John, the first
aloud and the last to his beard.

"Then thou mayst go thy ways; and thank thy patron saint that I am a
merciful man," said the Tanner.

"A plague o' such mercy as thine!" said Little John, sitting up and
feeling his ribs where the Tanner had cudgeled him. "I make my vow, my
ribs feel as though every one of them were broken in twain. I tell thee,
good fellow, I did think there was never a man in all Nottinghamshire
could do to me what thou hast done this day."

"And so thought I, also," cried Robin Hood, bursting out of the thicket
and shouting with laughter till the tears ran down his cheeks. "O man,
man!" said he, as well as he could for his mirth, "'a didst go over
like a bottle knocked from a wall. I did see the whole merry bout, and
never did I think to see thee yield thyself so, hand and foot, to any
man in all merry England. I was seeking thee, to chide thee for leaving
my bidding undone; but thou hast been paid all I owed thee, full
measure, pressed down and overflowing, by this good fellow. Marry, 'a
did reach out his arm full length while thou stood gaping at him, and,
with a pretty rap, tumbled thee over as never have I seen one tumbled
before." So spoke bold Robin, and all the time Little John sat upon the
ground, looking as though he had sour curds in his mouth. "What may be
thy name, good fellow?" said Robin, next, turning to the Tanner.

"Men do call me Arthur a Bland," spoke up the Tanner boldly, "and now
what may be thy name?"

"Ha, Arthur a Bland!" quoth Robin, "I have heard thy name before, good
fellow. Thou didst break the crown of a friend of mine at the fair at
Ely last October. The folk there call him Jock o' Nottingham; we call
him Will Scathelock. This poor fellow whom thou hast so belabored is
counted the best hand at the quarterstaff in all merry England. His name
is Little John, and mine Robin Hood."

"How!" cried the Tanner, "art thou indeed the great Robin Hoo