Pomfret was the local abbreviation of Pontefract, the name of the town, and “Pomfret Liquorice” claimed not only to be a sweetmeat, but a throat remedy as well, and was considered beneficial to the consumer.  The sample we purchased was the only sweet we had on our journey, for in those days men and women did not eat sweets so much as in later times, they being considered the special delicacies of the children.  The sight of a man or woman eating a sweet would have caused roars of ridicule.  Nor were there any shops devoted solely to the sale of sweets in the country; they were sold by grocers to the children, though in nothing like the variety and quantity that appeared in later years.  The most common sweet in those days was known as “treacle toffy,” which was sold in long sticks wrapped from end to end in white paper, to protect the children’s fingers when eating it, in spite of which it was no unusual sight to see both hands and faces covered with treacle marks, and thus arose the name of “treacle chops,” as applied to boys whose cheeks were smeared with treacle.  There was also toffy that was sold by weight, of which Everton toffee was the chief favourite.  My brother could remember a little visitor, a cousin of ours, who could not speak very plainly, and who always called a cup a “tup,” being sent to the village shop for a pound of coffee, and his delight when he returned laden with a pound of toffy, which was of course well-nigh devoured before the mistake was found out!

By this day we were ready for anything except walking as we crawled out of the town to find our way to Doncaster, and our speed, as might be imagined, was not excessive; for, including stoppages, which were necessarily numerous, we only averaged one mile per hour!  There was a great bazaar being held in Pontefract that day, to be opened by Lord Houghton, and we met several carriages on their way to it.  After we had walked some distance, we were told—­for we stopped to talk to nearly every one we met—­that we were now passing through Barnsdale Forest.  We could not see many trees, even though this was formerly the abode of Robin Hood and Little John, as well as Will Scarlett.

It was in this forest that Robin, hearing of the approach of the Bishop of Hereford, ordered his men to kill a good fat deer, and to make a repast of it by the side of the highway on which the Bishop was travelling.  Robin dressed himself and six of his men in the garb of shepherds, and they took their stand by the fire at which the venison was being roasted.  When the Bishop came up, with his retinue, he asked the men why they had killed the King’s deer, and said he should let the King know about it, and would take them with him to see the King.

  “Oh pardon, oh pardon,” said bold Robin Hood,
    “Oh pardon, I thee pray. 
  For it becomes not your Lordship’s coat
    To take so many lives away.”

  “No pardon, no pardon,” said the Bishop,
    “No pardon I thee owe;
  Therefore make haste and come along with me,
    For before the King ye shall go.”