Robin Hood And His Audio Books

Welcome back for the continuation of Robin Hood by J. Walker McSpadden,

Titled “Robin Hood”

Please make sure you BOOKMARK this sight for easy access. If you are not sure how to do it,
go to the page titled “How to Bookmark” at the top right hand of this page.

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CHAPTER IV

HOW LITTLE JOHN ENTERED THE SHERIFF’S SERVICE

List and hearken, gentlemen,
All ye that now be here,
Of Little John, that was Knight’s-man,
Good mirth ye now shall hear.

It had come around another Fair day at Nottingham town, and folk crowded there by all the gates. Goods of many kinds were displayed in gaily colored booths, and at every cross-street a free show was in progress. Here and there, stages had been erected for the play at quarter-staff, a highly popular sport.

There was a fellow, one Eric of Lincoln, who was thought to be the finest man with the staff for miles around. His feats were sung about in ballads through all the shire. A great boaster was he withal, and today he strutted about on one of these corner stages, and vaunted of his prowess, and offered to crack any man’s crown for a shilling. Several had tried their skill with Eric, but he had soon sent them spinning in no gentle manner, amid the jeers and laughter of the onlookers.

A beggar-man sat over against Eric’s stage and grinned every time a pate was cracked. He was an uncouth fellow, ragged and dirty and unshaven. Eric caught sight of his leering face at one of his boasts–for there was a lull in the game, because no man else wanted to come within reach of Eric’s blows. Eric, I say, noticed the beggar-man grinning at him rather impudently, and turned toward him sharply.

“How now, you dirty villain!” quoth he, “mend your manners to your betters, or, by our Lady, I’ll dust your rags for you.”

The beggar-man still grinned. “I am always ready to mend my manners to my betters,” said he, “but I am afraid you cannot teach me any better than you can dust my jacket.”

“Come up! Come up!” roared the other, flourishing his staff.

“That will I,” said the beggar, getting up slowly and with difficulty. “It will pleasure me hugely to take a braggart down a notch, an some good man will lend me a stout quarter-staff.”

At this a score of idlers reached him their staves–being ready enough to see another man have his head cracked, even if they wished to save their own–and he took the stoutest and heaviest of all. He made a sorry enough figure as he climbed awkwardly upon the stage, but when he had gained it, he towered full half a head above the other, for all his awkwardness. Nathless, he held his stick so clumsily that the crowd laughed in great glee.

Now each man took his place and looked the other up and down, watching warily for an opening. Only a moment stood they thus, for Eric, intent on teaching this rash beggar a lesson and sweeping him speedily off the stage, launched forth boldly and gave the other a sounding crack on the shoulder. The beggar danced about, and made as though he would drop his staff from very pain, while the crowd roared and Eric raised himself for another crushing blow. But just then the awkward beggar came to life. Straightening himself like a flash, he dealt Eric a back-handed blow, the like of which he had never before seen. Down went the boaster to the floor with a sounding thump, and the fickle people yelled and laughed themselves purple; for it was a new sight to see Eric of Lincoln eating dust.

But he was up again almost as soon as he had fallen, and right quickly retreated to his own ringside to gather his wits and watch for an opening. He saw instantly that he had no easy antagonist, and he came in cautiously this time.

And now those who stood around saw the merriest game of quarter-staff that was ever played inside the walls of Nottingham town. Both men were on their guard and fenced with fine skill, being well matched in prowess. Again and again did Eric seek to force an opening under the other’s guard, and just as often were his blows parried. The beggar stood sturdily in his tracks contenting himself with beating off the attack.

For a long time their blows met like the steady crackling of some huge forest fire, and Eric strove to be wary, for he now knew that the other had no mean wits or mettle. But he grew right mad at last, and began to send down blows so fierce and fast that you would have sworn a great hail-storm was pounding on the shingles over your head. Yet he never so much as entered the tall beggar’s guard.

Then at last the stranger saw his chance and changed his tune of fighting. With one upward stroke he sent Eric’s staff whirling through the air. With another he tapped Eric on the head; and, with a third broad swing, ere the other could recover himself, he swept him clear off the stage, much as you would brush a fly off the window pane.

Now the people danced and shouted and made so much ado that the shop-keepers left their stalls and others came running from every direction. The victory of the queer beggar made him immensely popular. Eric had been a great bully, and many had suffered defeat and insult at his hands. So the ragged stranger found money and food and drink everywhere at his disposal, and he feasted right comfortably till the afternoon.

Then a long bow contest came on, and to it the beggar went with some of his new friends. It was held in the same arena that Robin had formerly entered; and again the Sheriff and lords and ladies graced the scene with their presence, while the people crowded to their places.

When the archers had stepped forward, the herald rose and proclaimed the rules of the game: how that each man should shoot three shots, and to him who shot best the prize of a yoke of fat steers should belong. A dozen keen-eyed bowmen were there, and among them some of the best fellows in the Forester’s and Sheriff’s companies. Down at the end of the line towered the tall beggar-man, who must needs twang a bow-string with the best of them.

The Sheriff noted his queer figure and asked: “Who is that ragged fellow?”

“‘Tis he that hath but now so soundly cracked the crown of Eric of Lincoln,” was the reply.

The shooting presently began, and the targets soon showed a fine reckoning. Last of all came the beggar’s turn.

“By your leave,” he said loudly, “I’d like it well to shoot with any other man here present at a mark of my own placing.” And he strode down the lists with a slender peeled sapling which he stuck upright in the ground. “There,” said he, “is a right good mark. Will any man try it?”

But not an archer would risk his reputation on so small a target.

Whereupon the beggar drew his bow with seeming carelessness and split the wand with his shaft.

“Long live the beggar!” yelled the bystanders.

The Sheriff swore a full great oath, and said: “This man is the best archer that ever yet I saw.” And he beckoned to him, and asked him: “How now, good fellow, what is your name, and in what country were you born?”

“In Holderness I was born,” the man replied; “men call me Reynold Greenleaf.”

“You are a sturdy fellow, Reynold Greenleaf, and deserve better apparel than that you wear at present. Will you enter my service? I will give you twenty marks a year, above your living, and three good suits of clothes.”

“Three good suits, say you? Then right gladly will I enter your service, for my back has been bare this many a long day.”

Then Reynold turned him about to the crowd and shouted: “Hark ye, good people, I have entered the Sheriff’s service, and need not the yoke of steers for prize. So take them for yourselves, to feast withal.”

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This concludes the Chapter IVa.

Next post will be the conclusion to Chapter IVb.

*************************************************************

To Get the various collections of Robin Hood Audio Books,
CLICK on Robin Hood Audio Books web site.

For even more great Audio Books Like this, go to the
GREAT AUDIO BOOKS LIST store for even more enjoyment.

**************************************************************

Welcome back for the continuation of Robin Hood by J. Walker McSpadden,

Titled “Robin Hood”

Please make sure you BOOKMARK this sight for easy access. If you are not sure how to do it,
go to the page titled “How to Bookmark” at the top right hand of this page.

*************************

Chapter III continued,

…After grace was said, and while the servants clattered in with the meat platters, Robin stood up and said:

“An amen say I to my lord Bishop’s thanks! How, now, my fine fellows, be merry and drink deep; for the shot I’ll pay ere I go my way, though it cost me five pounds and more. So my lords and gentlemen all, spare not the wine, but fall to lustily.”

“Hear! hear!” shouted the butchers.

“Now are you a right jolly soul,” quoth the Sheriff, “but this feast is mine own. Howbeit you must have many a head of horned beasts, and many an acre of broad land, to spend from your purse so freely.”

“Aye, that have I,” returned Robin, his eyes all a twinkle, “five hundred horned beasts have I and my brothers, and none of them have we been able to sell. That is why I have turned butcher. But I know not the trade, and would gladly sell the whole herd, an I could find a buyer.”

At this, the Sheriff’s greed ‘gan to rise. Since this fool _would_ be plucked, thought he, why should not he do the plucking?

“Five hundred beasts, say you?” he queried sharply.

“Five hundred and ten fat beasts by actual count, that I would sell for a just figure. Aye, to him who will pay me in right money, would I sell them for twenty pieces of gold. Is that too much to ask, lording?”

Was there ever such an idiot butcher? thought the Sheriff; and he so far forgot his dignity as to nudge the Bishop in his fat ribs.

“Nay, good fellow,” quoth he chuckling, “I am always ready to help any in my shire. An you cannot find a buyer for your herd at this just figure, I will e’en buy them myself.”

At this generosity Robin was quite overcome, and fell to praising the Sheriff to the skies, and telling him that he should not have cause to forget the kindness.

“Tut, tut,” said the Sheriff, “’tis naught but a trade. Drive in your herd tomorrow to the market-place and you shall have money down.”

“Nay, excellence,” said Robin, “that can I not easily do, for they are grazing in scattered fashion. But they are over near Gamewell, not more than a mile therefrom at most. Will you not come and choose your own beasts tomorrow?”

“Aye, that I will,” said the Sheriff, his cupidity casting his caution to the winds. “Tarry with me over night, and I will go with you in the morning.”

This was a poser for Robin, since he liked not the idea of staying over night at the Sheriff’s house. He had hoped to appoint a meeting-place for the other, but now saw that this might excite doubt. He looked around at the company. By this time, you must know, the feast had progressed far, and the butchers were deep in their cups. The Sheriff and Robin had talked in a low voice, and my lord Bishop was almost asleep.

“Agreed,” said Robin presently, and the words were no sooner out of his mouth than the door opened and a serving-man entered bearing tray of mulled wine. At sight of the fellow’s face, Robin gave an involuntary start of surprise which was instantly checked. The other also saw him, stood still a moment, and as if forgetting something turned about and left the hall.

It was Little John.

A dozen questions flashed across Robin’s mind, and he could find answer for none of them. What was Little John doing in the Sheriff’s house? Why had he not told the band? Was he true to them? Would he betray him?

But these questions of distrust were dismissed from Robin’s open mind as soon as they had entered. He knew that Little John was faithful and true.

He recovered his spirits and began again upon a vein of foolish banter, for the amusement of the Sheriff and his guests, all being now merry with wine.

“A song!” one of them shouted, and the cry was taken up round the table. Robin mounted his chair and trolled forth:

“A lass and a butcher of Nottingham
Agreed ‘twixt them for to wed.
Says he, ‘I’ll give ye the meat, fair dame,
And ye will give me the bread.”

Then they joined in the chorus amid a pounding of cups upon the board:

“With a hey and a ho
And a hey nonny no,
A butcher of Nottingham!”

While the song was at its height, Little John reappeared, with other servants, and refilled the cups. He came up to Robin and, as if asking him if he would have more wine, said softly, “Meet me in the pantry to-night.”

Robin nodded, and sang loudly. The day was already far spent, and presently the company broke up with many hiccupy bows of the Sheriff and little notice of the drowsy Bishop.

When the company was dispersed, the Sheriff bade a servant show Robin to his room, and promised to see him at breakfast the next day.

Robin kept his word and met Little John that night, and the sheriff next day; but Little John has been doing so much in the meantime that he must be allowed a chapter to himself.

So let us turn to another story that was sung of, in the ballads of olden time, and find out how Little John entered the Sheriff’s service.

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This concludes the Chapter 3.

Next post will be Chapter 4.

*************************************************************

To Get the various collections of Robin Hood Audio Books,
CLICK on Robin Hood Audio Books web site.

For even more great Audio Books Like this, go to the
GREAT AUDIO BOOKS LIST store for even more enjoyment.

**************************************************************

Welcome back for the continuation of Robin Hood by J. Walker McSpadden,

Titled “Robin Hood”

Please make sure you BOOKMARK this sight for easy access. If you are not sure how to do it,
go to the page titled “How to Bookmark” at the top right hand of this page.

*************************

Chapter III continued,

…When he came to Nottingham he greeted the scowling gate-keeper blithely and proceeded to the market- place. Boldly he led his shuffling horse to the place where the butchers had their stalls.

He had no notion of the price to ask for his meat, but put on a foolish and simple air as he called aloud his wares:

“Hark ye, lasses and dames, hark ye,
Good meat come buy, come buy,
Three pen’orths go for one penny,
And a kiss is good, say I!”

Now when the folk found what a simple butcher he was, they crowded around his cart; for he really did sell three times as much for one penny as was sold by the other butchers. And one or two serving-lasses with twinkling eyes liked his comely face so well that they willingly gave boot of a kiss.

But the other butchers were wroth when they found how he was taking their trade; and they accordingly put their heads together.

One said, “He is a prodigal and has sold his father’s land, and this is his first venture in trading.”

Another said, “He is a thief who has murdered a butcher, and stolen his horse and meat.”

Robin heard these sayings, but only laughed merrily and sang his song the louder. His good-humor made the people laugh also and crowd round his cart closely, shouting uproariously when some buxom lass submitted to be kissed.

Then the butchers saw that they must meet craft with craft; and they said to him, “Come, brother butcher, if you would sell meat with us, you must e’en join our guild and stand by the rules of our trade.”

“We dine at the Sheriff’s mansion to-day,” said another, “and you must take one of our party.”

“Accurst of his heart,” said jolly Robin,
“That a butcher will deny.
I’ll go with you, my brethren true,
And as fast as I can hie.”

Whereupon, having sold all his meat, he left his horse and cart in charge of a friendly hostler and prepared to follow his mates to the Mansion House.

It was the Sheriff’s custom to dine various guilds of the trade, from time to time, on Fair days, for he got a pretty profit out of the fees they paid him for the right to trade in the market-place. The Sheriff was already come with great pomp into the banqueting room, when Robin Hood and three or four butchers entered, and he greeted them all with great condescension; and presently the whole of a large company was seated at a table groaning beneath the good cheer of the feast.

Now the Sheriff bade Robin sit by his right hand, at the head of the board; for one or two butchers had whispered to the official, “That fellow is a right mad blade, who yet made us much sport to-day. He sold more meat for one penny than we could sell for three; and he gave extra weight to whatsoever lass would buss him.” And others said, “He is some prodigal who knows not the value of goods, and may be plucked by a shrewd man right closely.”

The Sheriff was will to pluck a prodigal with the next man, and he was moreover glad to have a guest who promised to enliven the feast. So, as I have told you, he placed Robin by his side, and he made much of him and laughed boisterously at his jests; though sooth to say, the laugh were come by easily, for Robin had never been in merrier mood, and his quips and jests soon put the whole table at a roar.

Then my lord Bishop of Hereford came in, last of all, to say a ponderous grace and take his seat on the other side of the Sheriff–the prelate’s fat body showing up in goodly contrast to the other’s lean bones.

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This concludes the Chapter 3b.

Next post will be Chapter 3c.

*************************************************************

To Get the various collections of Robin Hood Audio Books,
CLICK on Robin Hood Audio Books web site.

For even more great Audio Books Like this, go to the
GREAT AUDIO BOOKS LIST store for even more enjoyment.

**************************************************************

Welcome back for the continuation of Robin Hood by J. Walker McSpadden,

Titled “Robin Hood”

Please make sure you BOOKMARK this sight for easy access. If you are not sure how to do it,
go to the page titled “How to Bookmark” at the top right hand of this page.

*************************

CHAPTER III

HOW ROBIN HOOD TURNED BUTCHER, AND ENTERED THE SHERIFF’S SERVICE

The butcher he answered jolly Robin,
“No matter where I do dwell,
For a butcher am I, and to Nottingham
Am I going, my flesh to sell.”

The next morning the weather had turned ill, and Robin Hood’s band stayed close to their dry and friendly cave. The third day brought a diversion in the shape of a trap by a roving party of the Sheriff’s men. A fine stag had been struck down by one Of Will Stutely’s fellows, and he and others had stepped forth from the covert to seize it, when twenty bowmen from Nottingham appeared at the end of the glade.

Down dropped Will’s men on all fours, barely in time to hear a shower of arrows whistle above their heads. Then from behind the friendly trees they sent back such a welcome that the Sheriff’s men deemed it prudent not to tarry in their steps. Two of them, in sooth, bore back unpleasant wounds in their shoulders, from the encounter.

When they returned to town the Sheriff waxed red with rage.

“What,” he gasped, “do my men fear to fight this Robin Hood, face to face? Would that I could get him within my reach, once. We should see then; we should see!”

What it was the Sheriff would see, he did not state. But he was to have his wish granted in short space, and you and I will see how he profited by it.

The fourth day and the one following this friendly bout, Little John was missing. One of his men said that he saw him talking with a beggar, but did not know whither they had gone. Two more days passed. Robin grew uneasy. He did not doubt the faith of Little John, but he was fearful lest a roving band of Foresters had captured him.

At last Robin could not remain quiet. Up sprang he, with bow and arrows, and a short sword at his side.

“I must away to Nottingham town, my men,” he cried. “The goodly Sheriff has long desired to see me; and mayhap he can tell me tidings of the best quarter-staff in the shire”–meaning Little John.

Others of the band besought him to let them go with him, but he would not.

“Nay,” he said smilingly, “the Sheriff and I are too good friends to put doubt upon our meeting. But tarry ye in the edge of the wood opposite the west gate of the town, and ye may be of service ere to-morrow night.”

So saying he strode forward to the road leading to Nottingham, and stood as before looking up and down to see if the way was clear. Back at a bend in the road he heard a rumbling and a lumbering, when up drove
a stout butcher, whistling gaily, and driving a mare that sped slowly enough because of the weight of meat with which the cart was loaded.

“A good morrow to you, friend,” hailed Robin. “Whence come you and where go you with your load of meat?”

“A good morrow to you,” returned the butcher, civilly enough. “No matter where I dwell. I am but a simple butcher, and to Nottingham am I going, my flesh to sell. ‘Tis Fair week, and my beef and mutton should fetch a fair penny,” and he laughed loudly at his jest. “But whence come you?”

“A yeoman am I, from Lockesley town. Men call me Robin Hood.”

“The saints forefend that you should treat me ill!” said the butcher in terror. “Oft have I heard of you, and how you lighten the purses of the fat priests and knights. But I am naught but a poor butcher, selling this load of meat, perchance, for enough to pay my quarter’s rent.”

“Rest you, my friend, rest you,” quoth Robin, “not so much as a silver penny would I take from you, for I love an honest Saxon face and a fair name with my neighbors. But I would strike a bargain with you.”

Here he took from his girdle a well-filled purse, and continued, “I would fain be a butcher, this day, and sell meat at Nottingham town. Could you sell me your meat, your cart, your mare, and your good-will,
without loss, for five marks?”

“Heaven bless ye, good Robin,” cried the butcher right joyfully, “that can I!” And he leaped down forthwith from the cart, and handed Robin the reins in exchange for the purse.

“One moment more,” laughed Robin, “we must e’en change garments for the nonce. Take mine and scurry home quickly lest the King’s Foresters try to put a hole through this Lincoln green.”

So saying he donned the butcher’s blouse and apron, and, climbing into the cart, drove merrily down the road to the town.

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This concludes the Chapter 3a.

Next post will be Chapter 3b.

*************************************************************

To Get the various collections of Robin Hood Audio Books,
CLICK on Robin Hood Audio Books web site.

For even more great Audio Books Like this, go to the
GREAT AUDIO BOOKS LIST store for even more enjoyment.

**************************************************************

Welcome back for the continuation of Chapter 1 of Robin Hood by J. Walker McSpadden,

Titled “Robin Hood”

Please make sure you BOOKMARK this sight for easy access. If you are not sure how to do it,
go to the page titled “How to Bookmark” at the top right hand of this page.

Chapter 2,

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CHAPTER II

HOW ROBIN HOOD MET LITTLE JOHN

“O here is my hand,” the stranger reply’d,
“I’ll serve you with all my whole heart.
My name is John Little, a man of good mettle,
Ne’er doubt me for I’ll play my part.”

“His name shall be altered,” quoth William Stutely,
“And I will his godfather be:
Prepare then a feast, and none of the least,
For we will be merry,” quoth he.

All that summer Robin Hood and his merry men roamed in Sherwood Forest, and the fame of their deeds ran abroad in the land. The Sheriff of Nottingham waxed wroth at the report, but all his traps and excursions failed to catch the outlaws.

The poor people began by fearing them, but when they found that the men in Lincoln green who answered Robin Hood’s horn meant them no harm, but despoiled the oppressor to relieve the oppressed, they ‘gan to have great liking for them. And the band increased by other stout hearts till by the end of the summer fourscore good men and true had sworn fealty.

But the days of quiet which came on grew irksome to Robin’s adventurous spirit. Up rose he, one gay morn, and slung his quiver over his shoulders.

“This fresh breeze stirs the blood, my lads,” quoth he, “and I would be seeing what the gay world looks like in the direction of Nottingham town. But tarry ye behind in the borders of the forest, within earshot of my bugle call.”

Thus saying he strode merrily forward to the edge of the wood, and paused there a moment, his agile form erect, his brown locks flowing and his brown eyes watching the road; and a goodly sight he made, as the wind blew the ruddy color into his cheeks.

The highway led clear in the direction of the town, and thither he boldly directed his steps. But at a bend in the road he knew of a by-path leading across a brook which made the way nearer and less open, into which he turned. As he approached the stream he saw that it had become swollen by recent rains into quite a pretty torrent. The log foot-bridge was still there, but at this end of it a puddle intervened which could be crossed only with a leap, if you would not get your feet wet.

But Robin cared little for such a handicap. Taking a running start, his nimble legs carried him easily over and balanced neatly upon the end of the broad log. But he was no sooner started across than he saw a tall
stranger coming from the other side. Thereupon Robin quickened his pace, and the stranger did likewise, each thinking to cross first. Midway they met, and neither would yield an inch.

“Give way, fellow!” roared Robin, whose leadership of a band, I am afraid, had not tended to mend his manners.

The stranger smiled. He was almost a head taller than the other.

“Nay,” he retorted, “fair and softly! I give way only to a better man than myself.”

“Give way, I say”, repeated Robin, “or I shall have to show you a better man.”

His opponent budged not an inch, but laughed loudly. “Now by my halidom!” he said good-naturedly, “I would not move after hearing that speech, even if minded to it before; for this better man I have sought my life long. Therefore show him to me, an it please you.”

“That will I right soon,” quoth Robin. “Stay you here a little while, till I cut me a cudgel like unto that you have been twiddling in your fingers.” So saying he sought his own bank again with a leap, laid aside his long bow and arrows, and cut him a stout staff of oak, straight, knotless, and a good six feet in length. But still it was a full foot shorter than his opponent’s. Then back came he boldly.

“I mind not telling you, fellow,” said he, “that a bout with archery would have been an easier way with me. But there are other tunes in England besides that the arrow sings.” Here he whirred the staff about his head by way of practice. “So make you ready for the tune I am about to play upon your ribs. Have at you! One, two–”

“Three!” roared the giant smiting at him instantly.

Well was it for Robin that he was quick and nimble of foot; for the blow that grazed a hair’s breadth from his shoulder would have felled an ox. Nevertheless while swerving to avoid this stroke, Robin was poising for his own, and back came he forthwith–whack!

Whack! parried the other.

Whack! whack! whack! whack!

The fight waxed fast and furious. It was strength pitted against subtlety, and the match was a merry one. The mighty blows of the stranger went whistling around Robin’s ducking head, while his own swift undercuts were fain to give the other an attack of indigestion. Yet each stood firmly in his place not moving backward or forward a foot for a good half hour, nor thinking of crying “Enough!” though some chance blow seemed likely to knock one or the other off the narrow foot-bridge.

The giant’s face was getting red, and his breath came snorting forth like a bull’s. He stepped forward with a furious onslaught to finish this audacious fellow. Robin dodged his blows lightly, then sprang in swiftly
and unexpectedly and dealt the stranger such a blow upon the short ribs that you would have sworn the tanner was trimming down his hides for market.

The stranger reeled and came within an ace of falling, but regained his footing right quickly.

“By my life, you can hit hard!” he gasped forth, giving back a blow almost while he was yet staggering.

This blow was a lucky one. It caught Robin off his guard. His stick had rested a moment while he looked to see the giant topple into the water, when down came the other upon his head, whack! Robin saw more stars in that one moment than all the astronomers have since discovered, and forthwith he dropped neatly into the stream.

The cool rushing current quickly brought him to his senses, howbeit he was still so dazed that he groped blindly for the swaying reeds to pull himself up on the bank. His assailant could not forbear laughing
heartily at his plight, but was also quick to lend his aid. He thrust down his long staff to Robin crying, “Lay hold of that, an your fists whirl not so much as your head!”

Robin laid hold and was hauled to dry land for all the world like a fish, except that the fish would never have come forth so wet and dripping. He lay upon the warm bank for a space to regain his senses. Then he sat up and gravely rubbed his pate.

“By all the saints!” said he, “you hit full stoutly. My head hums like a hive of bees on a summer morning.”

Then he seized his horn, which lay near, and blew thereon three shrill notes that echoed against the trees. A moment of silence ensued, and then was heard the rustling of leaves and crackling of twigs like the coming of many men; and forth from the glade burst a score or two of stalwart yeomen, all clad in Lincoln green, like Robin, with good Will Stutely and the widow’s three sons at their head.

“Good master,” cried Will Stutely, “how is this? In sooth there is not a dry thread on your body.”

“Why, marry,” replied Robin, “this fellow would not let me pass the footbridge, and when I tickled him in the ribs, he must needs answer by a pat on the head which landed me overboard.”

“Then shall he taste some of his own porridge,” quoth Will. “Seize him, lads!”

“Nay, let him go free,” said Robin. “The fight was a fair one and I abide by it. I surmise you also are quits?” he continued, turning to the stranger with a twinkling eye.

“I am content,” said the other, “for verily you now have the best end of the cudgel. Wherefore, I like you well, and would fain know your name.”

“Why,” said Robin, “my men and even the Sheriff of Nottingham know me as Robin Hood, the outlaw.”

“Then am I right sorry that I beat you,” exclaimed the man, “for I was on my way to seek you and to try to join your merry company. But after my unmannerly use of the cudgel, I fear we are still strangers.”

“Nay, never say it!” cried Robin, “I am glad I fell in with you; though, sooth to say, I did all the falling!”

And amid a general laugh the two men clasped hands, and in that clasp the strong friendship of a lifetime was begun.

“But you have not yet told us your name,” said Robin, bethinking himself.

“Whence I came, men call me John Little.”

“Enter our company then, John Little; enter and welcome. The rites are few, the fee is large. We ask your whole mind and body and heart even unto death.”

“I give the bond, upon my life,” said the tall man.

Thereupon Will Stutely, who loved a good jest, spoke up and said: “The infant in our household must be christened, and I’ll stand godfather. This fair little stranger is so small of bone and sinew, that his old
name is not to the purpose.” Here he paused long enough to fill a horn in the stream. “Hark ye, my son,”- -standing on tiptoe to splash the water on the giant–”take your new name on entering the forest. I
christen you Little John.”

At this jest the men roared long and loud.

“Give him a bow, and find a full sheath of arrows for Little John,” said Robin joyfully. “Can you shoot as well as fence with the staff, my friend?”

“I have hit an ash twig at forty yards,” said Little John.

Thus chatting pleasantly the band turned back into the woodland and sought their secluded dell, where the trees were the thickest, the moss was the softest, and a secret path led to a cave, at once a retreat and a stronghold. Here under a mighty oak they found the rest of the band, some of whom had come in with a brace of fat does. And here they built a ruddy fire and sat down to the meat and ale, Robin Hood in the center with Will Stutely on the one hand and Little John on the other. And Robin was right well pleased with the day’s adventure, even though he had got a drubbing; for sore ribs and heads will heal, and ’tis not every day that one can find a recruit as stout of bone and true of soul as Little John.

**************************

This concludes the Chapter 2.

Next post will be Chapter 3.

*************************************************************

To Get the various collections of Robin Hood Audio Books,
CLICK on Robin Hood Audio Books web site.

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Welcome back for the continuation of Chapter 1 of Robin Hood by J. Walker McSpadden,

Titled “Robin Hood”
The title of the first chapter is “How Robin Hood Became an Outlaw”

Please make sure you BOOKMARK this sight for easy access. If you are not sure how to do it,
go to the page titled “How to Bookmark” at the top right hand of this page.

Chapter 1 continues,

*************************

…”The beggar! the beggar!” yelled the crowd; “another bull for the beggar!” In truth his shaft was nearer the center than any of the others. But it was not so near that “Blinder,” as the mob had promptly christened his neighbor, did not place his shaft just within the mark. Again the crowd cheered wildly. Such shooting as this was not seen every day in Nottingham town.

The other archers in this round were disconcerted by the preceding shots, or unable to keep the pace. They missed one after another and dropped moodily back, while the trumpet sounded for the third round, and
the target was set up fifty ells distant.

“By my halidom you draw a good bow, young master,” said Rob’s queer comrade to him in the interval allowed for rest. “Do you wish me to shoot first on this trial?”

“Nay,” said Rob, “but you are a good fellow by this token, and if I win not, I hope you may keep the prize from yon strutters.” And he nodded scornfully to the three other archers who were surrounded by their
admirers, and were being made much of by retainers of the Sheriff, the Bishop, and the Earl. From them his eye wandered toward Maid Marian’s booth. She had been watching him, it seemed, for their eyes met; then
hers were hastily averted.

“Blinder’s” quick eye followed those of Rob. “A fair maid, that,” he said smilingly, “and one more worthy the golden arrow than the Sheriff’s haughty miss.”

Rob looked at him swiftly, and saw naught but kindliness in his glance.

“You are a shrewd fellow and I like you well,” was his only comment.

Now the archers prepared to shoot again, each with some little care. The target seemed hardly larger than the inner ring had looked, at the first trial. The first three sped their shafts, and while they were fair shots
they did not more than graze the inner circle.

Rob took his stand with some misgiving. Some flecking clouds overhead made the light uncertain, and a handful of wind frolicked across the range in a way quite disturbing to a bowman’s nerves. His eyes wandered for a brief moment to the box wherein sat the dark-eyed girl. His heart leaped! she met his glance and smiled at him reassuringly. And in that moment he felt that she knew him despite his disguise and looked to him to keep the honor of old Sherwood.

He drew his bow firmly and, taking advantage of a momentary lull in the breeze, launched the arrow straight and true-singing across the range to the center of the target.

“The beggar! the beggar! a bull! a bull!” yelled the fickle mob, who from jeering him were now his warm friends. “Can you beat that, Blinder?”

The last archer smiled scornfully and made ready. He drew his bow with ease and grace and, without seeming to study the course, released the winged arrow. Forward it leaped toward the target, and all eyes followed its flight. A loud uproar broke forth when it alighted, just without the center and grazing the shaft sent by Rob.

The stranger made a gesture of surprise when his own eyes announced the result to him, but saw his error. He had not allowed for the fickle gust of wind which seized the arrow and carried it to one side. But for all that he was the first to congratulate the victor.

“I hope we may shoot again,” quoth he. “In truth I care not for the golden bauble and wished to win it in despite of the Sheriff for whom I have no love. Now crown the lady of your choice.” And turning suddenly
he was lost in the crowd, before Rob could utter what it was upon his lips to say, that he would shoot again with him.

And now the herald summoned Rob to the Sheriff’s box to receive the prize.

“You are a curious fellow enough,” said the Sheriff, biting his lip coldly; “yet you shoot well. What name go you by?”

Marian sat near and was listening intently.

“I am called Rob the Stroller, my Lord Sheriff,” said the archer.

Marian leaned back and smiled.

“Well, Rob the Stroller, with a little attention to your skin and clothes you would not be so bad a man,” said the Sheriff. “How like you the idea of entering my service.

“Rob the Stroller has ever been a free man, my Lord, and desires no service.”

The Sheriff’s brow darkened, yet for the sake of his daughter and the golden arrow, he dissembled.

“Rob the Stroller,” said he, “here is the golden arrow which has been offered to the best of archers this day. You are awarded the prize. See that you bestow it worthily.”

At this point the herald nudged Rob and half inclined his head toward the Sheriff’s daughter, who sat with a thin smile upon her lips. But Rob heeded him not. He took the arrow and strode to the next box where sat
Maid Marian.

“Lady,” he said, “pray accept this little pledge from a poor stroller who would devote the best shafts in his quiver to serve you.”

“My thanks to you, Rob in the Hood,” replied she with a roguish twinkle in her eye; and she placed the gleaming arrow in her hair, while the people shouted, “The Queen! the Queen!”

The Sheriff glowered furiously upon this ragged archer who had refused his service, taken his prize without a word of thanks, and snubbed his daughter. He would have spoken, but his proud daughter restrained him. He called to his guard and bade them watch the beggar. But Rob had already turned swiftly, lost himself in the throng, and headed straight for the town gate.

That same evening within a forest glade a group of men–some twoscore clad in Lincoln green–sat round a fire roasting venison and making merry. Suddenly a twig crackled and they sprang to their feet and seized their weapons.

“I look for the widow’s sons,” a clear voice said, “and I come alone.”

Instantly the three men stepped forward.

“Tis Rob!” they cried; “welcome to Sherwood Forest, Rob!” And all the men came and greeted him; for they had heard his story.

Then one of the widow’s sons, Stout Will, stepped forth and said:

“Comrades all, ye know that our band has sadly lacked a leader–one of birth, breeding, and skill. Belike we have found that leader in this young man. And I and my brothers have told him that the band would
choose that one who should bring the Sheriff to shame this day and capture his golden arrow. Is it not so?”

The band gave assent.

Will turned to Rob. “What news bring you from Nottingham town?” asked he.

Rob laughed. “In truth I brought the Sheriff to shame for mine own pleasure, and won his golden arrow to boot. But as to the prize ye must e’en take my word, for I bestowed it upon a maid.”

And seeing the men stood in doubt at this, he continued: “But I’ll gladly join your band, and you take me, as a common archer. For there are others older and mayhap more skilled than I.”

Then stepped one forward from the rest, a tall swarthy man. And Rob recognized him as the man with the green blinder; only this was now removed, and his freed eye gleamed as stoutly as the other one.

“Rob in the Hood–for such the lady called you,” said he, “I can vouch for your tale. You shamed the Sheriff e’en as I had hoped to do; and we can forego the golden arrow since it is in such fair hands. As to your
shooting and mine, we must let future days decide. But here I, Will Stutely, declare that I will serve none other chief save only you.”

Then good Will Stutely told the outlaws of Rob’s deeds, and gave him his hand of fealty. And the widow’s sons did likewise, and the other members every one, right gladly; because Will Stutely had heretofore been the truest bow in all the company. And they toasted him in nut brown ale, and hailed him as their leader, by the name of Robin Hood. And he accepted that name because Maid Marian had said it.

By the light of the camp-fire the band exchanged signs and passwords. They gave Robin Hood a horn upon which he was to blow to summon them. They swore, also, that while they might take money and goods from the unjust rich, they would aid and befriend the poor and the helpless; and that they would harm no woman, be she maid, wife, or widow. They swore all this with solemn oaths, while they feasted about the ruddy blaze, under the greenwood tree.

And that is how Robin Hood became an outlaw.

**************************

This concludes the Chapter 1.

Next post will be Chapter 2.

*************************************************************

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CLICK on Robin Hood Audio Books web site.

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Welcome back for the continuation of Chapter 1 of Robin Hood by J. Walker McSpadden,

Titled “Robin Hood”
The title of the first chapter is “How Robin Hood Became an Outlaw”

Please make sure you BOOKMARK this sight for easy access. If you are not sure how to do it,
go to the page titled “How to Bookmark” at the top right hand of this page.

Chapter 1 continued,

…One fine morning, a few days after, Rob might have been seen passing by way of Lockesley through Sherwood Forest to Nottingham town. Briskly walked he and gaily, for his hopes were high and never an enemy had he in the wide world. But ’twas the very last morning in all his life when he was to lack an enemy! For, as he went his way through Sherwood, whistling a blithe tune, he came suddenly upon a group of Foresters, making merry beneath the spreading branches of an oak-tree. They had a huge meat pie before them and were washing down prodigious slices of it with nut brown ale.

One glance at the leader and Rob knew at once that he had found an enemy. ‘Twas the man who had usurped his father’s place as Head Forester, and who had roughly turned his mother out in the snow. But
never a word said he for good or bad, and would have passed on his way, had not this man, clearing his throat with a huge gulp, bellowed out: “By my troth, here is a pretty little archer! Where go you, my lad, with that tupenny bow and toy arrows? Belike he would shoot at Nottingham Fair! Ho! Ho!”

A roar of laughter greeted this sally. Rob flushed, for he was mightily proud of his shooting.

“My bow is as good as yours,” he retorted, “and my shafts will carry as straight and as far. So I’ll not take lessons of any of ye.”

They laughed again loudly at this, and the leader said with frown:

“Show us some of your skill, and if you can hit the mark here’s twenty silver pennies for you. But if you hit it not you are in for a sound drubbing for your pertness.”

“Pick your own target,” quoth Rob in a fine rage. “I’ll lay my head against that purse that I can hit it.”

“It shall be as you say,” retorted the Forester angrily, “your head for your sauciness that you hit not my target.”

Now at a little rise in the wood a herd of deer came grazing by, distant full fivescore yards. They were King’s deer, but at that distance seemed safe from any harm. The Head Forester pointed to them.

“If your young arm could speed a shaft for half that distance, I’d shoot with you.”

“Done!” cried Rob. “My head against twenty pennies I’ll cause yon fine fellow in the lead of them to breathe his last.”

And without more ado he tried the string of his long bow, placed a shaft thereon, and drew it to his ear. A moment, and the quivering string sang death as the shaft whistled across the glade. Another moment and the leader of the herd leaped high in his tracks and fell prone, dyeing the sward with his heart’s blood.

A murmur of amazement swept through the Foresters, and then a growl of rage. He that had wagered was angriest of all.

“Know you what you have done, rash youth?” he said. “You have killed a King’s deer, and by the laws of King Harry your head remains forfeit. Talk not to me of pennies but get ye gone straight, and let me not look upon your face again.”

Rob’s blood boiled within him, and he uttered a rash speech. “I have looked upon your face once too often already, my fine Forester. ‘Tis you who wear my father’s shoes.”

And with this he turned upon his heel and strode away.

The Forester heard his parting thrust with an oath. Red with rage he seized his bow, strung an arrow, and without warning launched it full af’ Rob. Well was it for the latter that the Forester’s foot turned on a twig at the critical instant, for as it was the arrow whizzed by his ear so close as to take a stray strand of his hair with it. Rob turned upon his assailant, now twoscore yards away.

“Ha!” said he. “You shoot not so straight as I, for all your bravado. Take this from the tupenny bow!”

Straight flew his answering shaft. The Head Forester gave one cry, then fell face downward and lay still. His life had avenged Rob’s father, but the son was outlawed. Forward he ran through the forest, before the band could gather their scattered wits–still forward into the great greenwood. The swaying trees seemed to open their arms to the wanderer, and to welcome him home.

Toward the close of the same day, Rob paused hungry and weary at the cottage of a poor widow who dwelt upon the outskirts of the forest. Now this widow had often greeted him kindly in his boyhood days, giving him to eat and drink. So he boldly entered her door. The old dame was right glad to see him, and baked him cakes in the ashes, and had him rest and tell her his story. Then she shook her head.

“‘Tis an evil wind that blows through Sherwood,” she said. “The poor are despoiled and the rich ride over their bodies. My three sons have been outlawed for shooting King’s deer to keep us from starving, and now hide in the wood. And they tell me that twoscore of as good men as ever drew bow are in hiding with them.”

“Where are they, good mother?” cried Rob. “By my faith, I will join them.”

“Nay, nay,” replied the old woman at first. But when she saw that there was no other way, she said: “My sons will visit me to-night. Stay you here and see them if you must.”

So Rob stayed willingly to see the widow’s sons that night, for they were men after his own heart. And when they found that his mood was with them, they made him swear an oath of fealty, and told him the haunt of the band–a place he knew right well. Finally one of them said:

“But the band lacks a leader–one who can use his head as well as his hand. So we have agreed that he who has skill enough to go to Nottingham, an outlaw, and win the prize at archery, shall be our chief.”

Rob sprang to his feet. “Said in good time!” cried he, “for I had started to that self-same Fair, and all the Foresters, and all the Sheriff’s men in Christendom shall not stand between me and the center of their target!”

And though he was but barely grown he stood so straight and his eye flashed with such fire that the three brothers seized his hand and shouted:

“A Lockesley! a Lockesley! if you win the golden arrow you shall be chief of outlaws in Sherwood Forest!”

So Rob fell to planning how he could disguise himself to go to Nottingham town; for he knew that the Foresters had even then set a price on his head in the market-place.

It was even as Rob had surmised. The Sheriff of Nottingham posted a reward of two hundred pounds for the capture, dead or alive, of one Robert Fitzooth, outlaw. And the crowds thronging the streets upon that
busy Fair day often paused to read the notice and talk together about the death of the Head Forester.

But what with wrestling bouts and bouts with quarter-staves, and wandering minstrels, there came up so many other things to talk about, that the reward was forgotten for the nonce, and only the Foresters and Sheriff’s men watched the gates with diligence, the Sheriff indeed spurring them to effort by offers of largess. His hatred of the father had descended to the son.

The great event of the day came in the afternoon. It was the archer’s contest for the golden arrow, and twenty men stepped forth to shoot. Among them was a beggar-man, a sorry looking fellow with leggings of different colors, and brown scratched face and hands. Over a tawny shock of hair he had a hood drawn, much like that of a monk. Slowly he limped to his place in the line, while the mob shouted in derision. But the contest was open to all comers, so no man said him nay.

Side by side with Rob–for it was he–stood a muscular fellow of swarthy visage and with one eye hid by a green bandage. Him also the crowd jeered, but he passed them by with indifference while he tried his bow
with practiced hand.

A great crowd had assembled in the amphitheater enclosing the lists. All the gentry and populace of the surrounding country were gathered there in eager expectancy. The central box contained the lean but pompous Sheriff, his bejeweled wife, and their daughter, a supercilious young woman enough, who, it was openly hinted, was hoping to receive the golden arrow from the victor and thus be crowned queen of the day.

Next to the Sheriff’s box was one occupied by the fat Bishop of Hereford; while in the other side was a box wherein sat a girl whose dark hair, dark eyes, and fair features caused Rob’s heart to leap. ‘Twas Maid Marian! She had come up for a visit from the Queen’s court at London town, and now sat demurely by her father the Earl of Huntingdon. If Rob had been grimly resolved to win the arrow before, the sight of her sweet face multiplied his determination an hundredfold. He felt his muscles tightening into bands of steel, tense and true. Yet withal his heart would throb, making him quake in a most unaccountable way.

Then the trumpet sounded, and the crowd became silent while the herald announced the terms of the contest. The lists were open to all comers. The first target was to be placed at thirty ells distance, and all those who hit its center were allowed to shoot at the second target, placed ten ells farther off. The third target was to be removed yet farther, until the winner was proved. The winner was to receive the golden arrow, and a place with the King’s Foresters. He it was also who crowned the queen of the day.

The trumpet sounded again, and the archers prepared to shoot. Rob looked to his string, while the crowd smiled and whispered at the odd figure he cut, with his vari-colored legs and little cape. But as the first man shot, they grew silent.

The target was not so far but that twelve out of the twenty contestants reached its inner circle. Rob shot sixth in the line and landed fairly, being rewarded by an approving grunt from the man with the green
blinder, who shot seventh, and with apparent carelessness, yet true to the bull’s-eye.

The mob cheered and yelled themselves hoarse at this even marksmanship. The trumpet sounded again, and a new target was set up at forty ells.

The first three archers again struck true, amid the loud applause of the onlookers; for they were general favorites and expected to win. Indeed ’twas whispered that each was backed by one of the three dignitaries
of the day. The fourth and fifth archers barely grazed the center. Rob fitted his arrow quietly and with some confidence sped it unerringly toward the shining circle.

This concludes the Chapter 1b.

Next post will be Chapter 1c.

*************************************************************

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CHAPTER I

HOW ROBIN HOOD BECAME AN OUTLAW

List and hearken, gentlemen,
That be of free-born blood,
I shall you tell of a good yeoman,
His name was Robin Hood.

Robin was a proud outlaw,
While as he walked on the ground.
So courteous an outlaw as he was one
Was never none else found.

In the days of good King Harry the Second of England–he of the warring sons–there were certain forests in the north country set aside for the King’s hunting, and no man might shoot deer therein under penalty of
death. These forests were guarded by the King’s Foresters, the chief of whom, in each wood, was no mean man but equal in authority to the Sheriff in his walled town, or even to my lord Bishop in his abbey.

One of the greatest of royal preserves was Sherwood and Barnesdale forests near the two towns of Nottingham and Barnesdale. Here for some years dwelt one Hugh Fitzooth as Head Forester, with his good wife and son Robert. The boy had been born in Lockesley town–in the year 1160, stern records say–and was often called Lockesley, or Rob of Lockesley. He was a comely, well-knit stripling, and as soon as he was strong enough to walk his chief delight was to go with his father into the forest.

As soon as his right arm received thew and sinew he learned to draw the long bow and speed a true arrow. While on winter evenings his greatest joy was to hear his father tell of bold Will o’ the Green, the outlaw, who for many summers defied the King’s Foresters and feasted with his men upon King’s deer. And on other stormy days the boy learned to whittle out a straight shaft for the long bow, and tip it with gray
goose feathers.

The fond mother sighed when she saw the boy’s face light up at these woodland tales. She was of gentle birth, and had hoped to see her son famous at court or abbey. She taught him to read and to write, to doff his cap without awkwardness and to answer directly and truthfully both lord and peasant. But the boy, although he took kindly to these lessons of breeding, was yet happiest when he had his beloved bow in hand and strolled at will, listening to the murmur of the trees.

Two playmates had Rob in these gladsome early days. One was Will Gamewell, his father’s brother’s son, who lived at Gamewell Lodge, hard by Nottingham town. The other was Marian Fitzwalter, only child of the Earl of Huntingdon. The castle of Huntingdon could be seen from the top of one of the tall trees in Sherwood; and on more than one bright day Rob’s white signal from this tree told Marian that he awaited her there: for you must know that Rob did not visit her at the castle.

His father and her father were enemies. Some people whispered that Hugh Fitzooth was the rightful Earl of Huntingdon, but that he had been defrauded out of his lands by Fitzwalter, who had won the King’s favor by a crusade to the Holy Land. But little cared Rob or Marian for this enmity, however it had arisen. They knew that the great green–wood was open to them, and that the wide, wide world was full of the scent of flowers and the song of birds.

Days of youth speed all too swiftly, and troubled skies come all too soon. Rob’s father had two other enemies besides Fitzwalter, in the persons of the lean Sheriff of Nottingham and the fat Bishop of Hereford. These three enemies one day got possession of the King’s ear and whispered therein to such good–or evil–purpose that Hugh Fitzooth was removed from his post of King’s Forester. He and his wife and Rob, then a youth of nineteen, were descended upon, during a cold winter’s evening, and dispossessed without warning.

The Sheriff arrested the Forester for treason–of which, poor man, he was as guiltless as you or I–and carried him to Nottingham jail. Rob and his mother were sheltered over night in the jail, also, but next morning were roughly bade to go about their business. Thereupon they turned for succor to their only kinsman, Squire George of Gamewell, who sheltered them in all kindness.

But the shock, and the winter night’s journey, proved too much for Dame Fitzooth. She had not been strong for some time before leaving the forest. In less than two months she was no more. Rob felt as though his heart was broken at this loss. But scarcely had the first spring flowers begun to blossom upon her grave, when he met another crushing blow in the loss of his father. That stern man had died in prison before his accusers could agree upon the charges by which he was to be brought to trial.

Two years passed by. Rob’s cousin Will was away at school; and Marian’s father, who had learned of her friendship with Rob, had sent his daughter to the court of Queen Eleanor. So these years were lonely ones to the orphaned lad. The bluff old Squire was kind to him, but secretly could make nothing of one who went about brooding and as though seeking for something he had lost. The truth is that Rob missed his old life in the forest no less than his mother’s gentleness, and his father’s companionship. Every time he twanged the string of the long bow against his shoulder and heard the gray goose shaft sing, it told him of happy days that he could not recall.

One morning as Rob came in to breakfast, his uncle greeted him with, “I have news for you, Rob, my lad!” and the hearty old Squire finished his draught of ale and set his pewter tankard down with a crash.

“What may that be, Uncle Gamewell?” asked the young man.

“Here is a chance to exercise your good long bow and win a pretty prize. The Fair is on at Nottingham, and the Sheriff proclaims an archer’s tournament. The best fellows are to have places with the King’s Foresters, and the one who shoots straightest of all will win for prize a olden arrow–a useless bauble enough, but just the thing for your lady love, eh, Rob my boy?” Here the Squire laughed and whacked the table again with his tankard.

Rob’s eyes sparkled. “‘Twere indeed worth shooting for, uncle mine,” he said. “I should dearly love to let arrow fly alongside another man. And a place among the Foresters is what I have long desired. Will you let me try?”

“To be sure,” rejoined his uncle. “Well I know that your good mother would have had me make a clerk of you; but well I see that the greenwood is where you will pass your days. So, here’s luck to you in the bout!” And the huge tankard came a third time into play.

The young man thanked his uncle for his good wishes, and set about making preparations for the journey. He traveled lightly; but his yew bow must needs have a new string, and his cloth-yard arrows must be of
the straightest and soundest.

This concludes the Chapter 1a.

Next post will be Chapter 1b.

*************************************************************

To Get the various collections of Robin Hood Audio Books,
CLICK on Robin Hood Audio Books web site.

For even more great Audio Books Like this, go to the
GREAT AUDIO BOOKS LIST store for even more enjoyment.

**************************************************************

As you will see, this particular book was updated in Jan. 2006 by J. Walker McSpadden
for Project Gutenberg. We are privileged to be able to present it to you in it’s
entirety. If there are any questions please feel free to ask or place comments.

Also, I will be taking liberties while presenting this book by cutting up the chapters
in shorter versions so that the reading is not so tedious. I will also make the paragraphs
shorter for the same reason. So if they seem to be a little out of context, that is why.
It is not the fault of the authors but it is the liberties that I am taking to make reading
a little less boring. Enjoy and this first post is how the chapters are divided up.

I will place a second post right behind it to get Chapter 1 started.

Title: Robin Hood

Author: J. Walker McSpadden

Release Date: January 21, 2006 [EBook #832]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROBIN HOOD ***

Produced by Joseph S. Miller and David Widger

ROBIN HOOD

by J. Walker McSpadden

CHAPTER I How Robin Hood Became an Outlaw

CHAPTER II How Robin Hood Met Little John

CHAPTER III How Robin Hood Turned Butcher, and Entered the
Sheriff’s Service

CHAPTER IV How Little John Entered the Sheriff’s Service

CHAPTER V How the Sheriff Lost Three Good Servants, and
Found Them Again

CHAPTER VI How Robin Hood Met Will Scarlett

CHAPTER VII How Robin Hood Met Friar Tuck

CHAPTER VIII How Allan-a-Dale’s Wooing Was Prospered

CHAPTER IX How the Widow’s Three Sons Were Rescued

CHAPTER X How a Beggar Filled the Public Eye

CHAPTER XI How Robin Hood Fought Guy of Gisbourne

CHAPTER XII How Maid Marion Came Back to Sherwood Forest;
Also, How Robin Hood Came Before Queen Eleanor

CHAPTER XIII How the Outlaws Shot in King Harry’s Tourney

CHAPTER XIV How Robin Hood Was Sought of the Tinker

CHAPTER XV How Robin Hood Was Tanned of the Tanner

CHAPTER XVI How Robin Hood Met Sir Richard of the Lea

CHAPTER XVII How the Bishop Was Dined

CHAPTER XVIII How the Bishop Went Outlaw-Hunting

CHAPTER XIX How the Sheriff Held Another Shooting Match

CHAPTER XX How Will Stutely Was Rescued

CHAPTER XXI How Sir Richard of the Lea Repaid His Debt

CHAPTER XXII How King Richard Came to Sherwood Forest

CHAPTER XXIII How Robin Hood and Maid Marion Were Wed

CHAPTER XXIV How Robin Hood Met His Death

This concludes the introduction.

Next post will be Chapter 1a.

*************************************************************

To Get the various collections of of Robin Hood Audio Books,
CLICK on Robin Hood Audio Books web site.

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