Then Robin pulled his bugle horn from beneath his coat and blew a long blast, and threescore and ten of his followers quickly appeared—­

  All making obeysance to Robin Hood,
    ’Twas a comely sight to see;
  “What is the matter, master?” said Little John,
    “That you blow so heartily?”

Robin replied that the Bishop of Hereford refused all pardon for slaying the deer, and had said they must at once accompany him to the King.  Little John then suggested that they should cut off the Bishop’s head and throw him in a grave; but the Bishop craved pardon of the outlaw for his interference, and declared that had he known who was on the road, “he would have gone some other way.”

  “No pardon, no pardon,” said bold Robin Hood,
    “No pardon I thee owe;
  Therefore make haste and come along with me,
    For to merry Barnsdale you shall go.”

So thither they led the Bishop, and made him sup with them right merrily and royally.

  “Call in a reckoning,” said the Bishop,
    “For methinks it grows wondrous high;”
  “Lend me your purse, master,” said Little John,
    “And I’ll tell you by and bye!”

  Little John took the Bishop’s cloak
    And spread it upon the ground. 
  And out of the Bishop’s portmanteau
    He told three hundred pound.

  “Here’s money enough, master,” said Little John,
    “And a comely sight to see;
  It makes me in charity with the Bishop,
    Though he heartily loveth not me.”

  Robin took the Bishop by the hand,
    And he caused the music to play;
  And he made the Bishop to dance in his boots. 
    And glad he could get away!

[Illustration:  DONCASTER RACECOURSE.  “We had walked for five days over the broad acres of Yorkshire and had seen many fine horses, for horse-breeding was a leading feature of that big county, and horses a frequent subject of conversation.”]

We heard all sorts of stories from the roadmen, some of which might not be true; but in any case about seven miles from Doncaster we reached Robin Hood’s Well, at the side of the road.  It was quite a substantial structure, built of soft limestone, and arched over, with a seat inside—­on which doubtless many a weary wayfarer had rested before us.  The interior was nearly covered with inscriptions, one dated 1720 and some farther back than that.  We had a drink of water from the well, but afterwards, when sitting on the seat, saw at the bottom of the well a great black toad, which we had not noticed when drinking the water.  The sight of it gave us a slight attack of the horrors, for we had a particular dread of toads.  We saw at the side of the road a large house which was formerly an inn rejoicing in the sign of “Robin Hood and Little John,” one of the oldest inns between York and London.  We called at a cottage for tea, and here we heard for the first time of the Yorkshireman’s coat-of-arms, which the lady of the house told us every Yorkshireman was entitled to place on his carriage free of tax!  It consisted of a flea, and a fly, a flitch of bacon, and a magpie, which we thought was a curious combination.  The meaning, however, was forthcoming, and we give the following interpretation as given to us: