"Yes," continued Philip, taking up the story where his mother had left off; "then he went to a 'fair, thatched inn,' you know, and he sat drinking with the tinker, the peddler, and the beggar, when the two rich brothers from Fountains Abbey came out to start again on their journey to York. Little John thought there'd be some fun, and perhaps some good money for him, if he decided to go part of the way with them, so he did. Don't you remember that one brother was very tall and thin, and the other very short and stout? They were proud and ashamed of being seen on the road in the company of a poor friar whose gown was too short for him, as was Little John's. But he insisted upon staying by, and strode along between their two nags. Whenever they met anybody--beggars, fair lords and ladies, or fat Bishops--Little John called out: 'Here we go; we three!'" "And then," broke in Betty, her face literally radiant, "don't you know how Little John finally robbed them? That was best of all! When they came to a certain parting of the ways, he did consent to leave them, but first he asked for a few pence, as he was poor. Both brothers declared that they hadn't any money, at which Little John insisted upon their kneeling down on the dusty road and praying to the good St. Dunstan to send them each ten shillings, so that they could continue their journey in safety and comfort. You know, he thought it such a pity for two such worthy brothers to be in sore need of food and drink!" The children were unconsciously lapsing into the language of the Robin Hood stories, as they rattled on and on. "Well," Betty went on, "Little John prayed and prayed, and then he asked the brothers to feel and see if the good St. Dunstan hadn't sent them something. Time after time this performance was repeated, and still they said they had nothing. Finally Little John himself felt in their pouches and found,--oh, heaps of money! He left the brothers ten shillings each, and carried away the rest, saying he was sure that the good St. Dunstan had meant it for him! Oh, I think I like Little John best of all,--almost better even than Robin Hood! He always did such cute things!" By this time, they were nearing some of the big palaces which gave this section of the country the name of "The Dukeries," from the fact that so many noblemen have lived there. Earl Manvers, the Duke of Newcastle, and the Duke of Portland, all have tremendous estates between the towns of Worksop and Edwinstowe. Some of the stately houses were pointed out in the distance behind the trees, but neither Barbara nor Betty, Philip nor John, paid the slightest heed to them. Their minds were fixed on Robin Hood, and they saw only the Sherwood Forest which he knew. When Betty looked at Clumber House, across a pretty little lake, she only said: "Perhaps near that lake was where Robin found Alan-a-Dale, the dear minstrel." "Oh, no, Betty; it was by a fountain that he found Alan-a-Dale," Barbara politely corrected.