take some disguise lest there be those there who may know thee."

"So be it, good master," quoth Little John, "yet all the disguise that I
wish is a good suit of scarlet instead of this of Lincoln green. I will
draw the cowl of my jacket about my head so that it will hide my brown
hair and beard, and then, I trust, no one will know me."

"It is much against my will," said Robin Hood, "ne'ertheless, if thou
dost wish it, get thee gone, but bear thyself seemingly, Little John,
for thou art mine own right-hand man and I could ill bear to have harm
befall thee."

So Little John clad himself all in scarlet and started off to the Fair
at Nottingham Town.

Right merry were these Fair days at Nottingham, when the green before
the great town gate was dotted with booths standing in rows, with tents
of many-colored canvas, hung about with streamers and garlands of
flowers, and the folk came from all the countryside, both gentle and
common. In some booths there was dancing to merry music, in others
flowed ale and beer, and in others yet again sweet cakes and barley
sugar were sold; and sport was going outside the booths also, where some
minstrel sang ballads of the olden time, playing a second upon the harp,
or where the wrestlers struggled with one another within the sawdust
ring, but the people gathered most of all around a raised platform where
stout fellows played at quarterstaff.

So Little John came to the Fair. All scarlet were his hose and jerkin,
and scarlet was his cowled cap, with a scarlet feather stuck in the side
of it. Over his shoulders was slung a stout bow of yew, and across his
back hung a quiver of good round arrows. Many turned to look after such
a stout, tall fellow, for his shoulders were broader by a palm's-breadth
than any that were there, and he stood a head taller than all the other
men. The lasses, also, looked at him askance, thinking they had never
seen a lustier youth.

First of all he went to the booth where stout ale was sold and, standing
aloft on a bench, he called to all that were near to come and drink with
him. "Hey, sweet lads!" cried he "who will drink ale with a stout
yeoman? Come, all! Come, all! Let us be merry, for the day is sweet
and the ale is tingling. Come hither, good yeoman, and thou, and thou;
for not a farthing shall one of you pay. Nay, turn hither, thou lusty
beggar, and thou jolly tinker, for all shall be merry with me."

Thus he shouted, and all crowded around,