But the greatest blow he received in that direction was when he found a much more modern story of “Robin Hood and Little John,” which gave Little John’s real name as John Little, saying that his name was changed to Little John because he was such a big man.  My brother was greatly annoyed at this until he discovered that this version was a comparatively modern innovation, dating from the time of Sir Walter Scott’s Talisman, published in 1825, and inserted there because the proper name would not have suited Sir Walter’s rhyme: 

  “This infant was called ‘John Little,’ quoth he;
    “Which name shall be changed anon. 
  The words we’ll transpose, so wherever he goes
    His name shall be called Little John.”

On our way from the “Fox House Inn” to Hathersage we passed some strange-looking rocks which were said to resemble the mouth of a huge toad; but as we had not studied the anatomy of that strange creature, and had no desire to do so, a casual glance as we walked along a down gradient into Hathersage was sufficient.  As we entered the village we saw a party of men descending a road on our right, from whom we inquired the way to Little John’s grave, which they told us they had just been to visit themselves.  They directed us to go up the road that they had just come down, and one of them advised us to call at the small inn which we should find at the top of the hill, while another man shouted after us, “Aye! and ther’s a mon theere ’ats getten ’is gun!” We found the inn, but did not ask to see the gun, being more interested at the time in bows and arrows, so we called at the inn and ordered tea.  It was only a cottage inn, but the back of it served as a portion of the churchyard wall, and the mistress told us that when Little John lay on his deathbed in the room above our heads, he asked for his bow and arrow, and, shooting through the window which we would see from the churchyard at the back of the inn, desired his men to bury him on the spot where they found his arrow.

[Illustration:  THE TOAD’S MOUTH.]

We went to see the grave while our tea was being prepared, and found it only a few yards from the inn, so presumably Little John was very weak when he shot the arrow.  The grave stood between two yew trees, with a stone at the head and another at the foot, the distance between them being ten feet.

The church was a very old one, dating from the early part of the fourteenth century.  It was said that a search for Little John’s skeleton had been made in 1784, when only a thigh-bone had been found; but as this measured twenty-nine and a half inches, a very big man must have been buried there.

On our right across the moor rose sharply what seemed to be a high, continuous cliff, which we were told was the “edge” of one of the thick, hard beds of millstone grit, and as we proceeded the edge seemed to be gradually closing in upon us.

After tea we walked slowly on to Castleton, where we selected a clean and respectable-looking private house to stay and rest over the week-end, until Monday morning.