“Then,” said Little John, “for joy of having gotten myself into thy service, I will give fat steers and brown ale to all these good folk, to make them merry withal.”  At this arose a great shout, many casting their caps aloft, for joy of the gift.

Then some built great fires and roasted the steers, and others broached the butt of ale, with which all made themselves merry.  Then, when they had eaten and drunk as much as they could, and when the day faded and the great moon arose, all red and round, over the spires and towers of Nottingham Town, they joined hands and danced around the fires, to the music of bagpipes and harps.  But long before this merrymaking had begun, the Sheriff and his new servant Reynold Greenleaf were in the Castle of Nottingham.

How Little John Lived at the Sheriff’s

Thus little John entered into the Sheriff’s service and found the life he led there easy enough, for the Sheriff made him his right-hand man and held him in great favor.  He sat nigh the Sheriff at meat, and he ran beside his horse when he went a-hunting; so that, what with hunting and hawking a little, and eating rich dishes and drinking good sack, and sleeping until late hours in the morning, he grew as fat as a stall-fed ox.  Thus things floated easily along with the tide, until one day when the Sheriff went a-hunting, there happened that which broke the smooth surface of things.

This morning the Sheriff and many of his men set forth to meet certain lords, to go a-hunting.  He looked all about him for his good man, Reynold Greenleaf, but, not finding him, was vexed, for he wished to show Little John’s skill to his noble friends.  As for Little John, he lay abed, snoring lustily, till the sun was high in the heavens.  At last he opened his eyes and looked about him but did not move to arise.  Brightly shone the sun in at the window, and all the air was sweet with the scent of woodbine that hung in sprays about the wall without, for the cold winter was past and spring was come again, and Little John lay still, thinking how sweet was everything on this fair morn.  Just then he heard, faint and far away, a distant bugle note sounding thin and clear.  The sound was small, but, like a little pebble dropped into a glassy fountain, it broke all the smooth surface of his thoughts, until his whole soul was filled with disturbance.  His spirit seemed to awaken from its sluggishness, and his memory brought back to him all the merry greenwood life—­how the birds were singing blithely there this bright morning, and how his loved companions and friends were feasting and making merry, or perhaps talking of him with sober speech; for when he first entered the Sheriff’s service he did so in jest; but the hearthstone was warm during the winter, and the fare was full, and so he had abided, putting off from day to day his going back to Sherwood, until six long months had