“Nay, good Little John,” quoth Robin gently, for he liked ill to have such a jest told of him.  “Why should we speak of this little matter?  Prythee, let us keep this day’s doings among ourselves.”

“With all my heart,” quoth Little John.  “But, good master, I thought that thou didst love a merry story, because thou hast so often made a jest about a certain increase of fatness on my joints, of flesh gathered by my abiding with the Sheriff of—­”

“Nay, good Little John,” said Robin hastily, “I do bethink me I have said full enough on that score.”

“It is well,” quoth Little John, “for in truth I myself have tired of it somewhat.  But now I bethink me, thou didst also seem minded to make a jest of the rain that threatened last night; so—­”

“Nay, then,” said Robin Hood testily, “I was mistaken.  I remember me now it did seem to threaten rain.”

“Truly, I did think so myself,” quoth Little John, “therefore, no doubt, thou dost think it was wise of me to abide all night at the Blue Boar Inn, instead of venturing forth in such stormy weather; dost thou not?”

“A plague of thee and thy doings!” cried Robin Hood.  “If thou wilt have it so, thou wert right to abide wherever thou didst choose.”

“Once more, it is well,” quoth Little John.  “As for myself, I have been blind this day.  I did not see thee drubbed; I did not see thee tumbled heels over head in the dust; and if any man says that thou wert, I can with a clear conscience rattle his lying tongue betwixt his teeth.”

“Come,” cried Robin, biting his nether lip, while the others could not forbear laughing.  “We will go no farther today, but will return to Sherwood, and thou shalt go to Ancaster another time, Little John.”

So said Robin, for now that his bones were sore, he felt as though a long journey would be an ill thing for him.  So, turning their backs, they retraced their steps whence they came.

The Adventure with Midge the Miller’s Son

When the four yeomen had traveled for a long time toward Sherwood again, high noontide being past, they began to wax hungry.  Quoth Robin Hood, “I would that I had somewhat to eat.  Methinks a good loaf of white bread, with a piece of snow-white cheese, washed down with a draught of humming ale, were a feast for a king.”

“Since thou speakest of it,” said Will Scarlet, “methinks it would not be amiss myself.  There is that within me crieth out, ’Victuals, good friend, victuals!’”

“I know a house near by,” said Arthur a Bland, “and, had I but the money, I would bring ye that ye speak of; to wit, a sweet loaf of bread, a fair cheese, and a skin of brown ale.”

“For the matter of that, thou knowest I have money by me, good master,” quoth Little John.

“Why, so thou hast, Little John,” said Robin.  “How much money will it take, good Arthur, to buy us meat and drink?”