The following morning, the party went by train to Nottingham, where they spent a short time in exploring. The present town is much like others, except in its legendary connection with Robin Hood. All visitors might not find it as fascinating as did Mrs. Pitt and the young people, who knew it as the abode of the disagreeable Sheriff whom Robin Hood heartily hated, and upon whom he continually played so many tricks, always evading punishment most successfully. They pictured the gay procession of soldiers and knights which accompanied King John when he entered that city, as the Sheriff's guest; and to them the old market-square (the largest in all England) suggested the scene of Robin Hood's masquerade as a butcher. There they halted and imagined him standing beside his booth, and calling out: "Now who'll buy? who'll buy? Four fixed prices have I. Three pennyworths of meat I sell to a fat friar or priest for sixpence, for I want not their custom; stout aldermen I charge threepence, for it doth not matter to me whether they buy or not; to buxom dames I sell three pennyworths of meat for one penny, for I like their custom well; but to the bonny lass that hath a liking for a good tight butcher, I charge nought but one fair kiss, for I like her custom the best of all." "It was here in Nottingham that Will Stutely had his narrow escape, wasn't it?" questioned Betty. "He was captured by the Sheriff's men at 'Ye Blue Boar Inn,' and they brought him to town and would have hanged him, if Robin Hood and his men hadn't arrived just in time to save his life. Once Little John came to Nottingham Town and lived for some time in the Sheriff's own castle, pretending to be the cook. My! what lots of things happened here!" Not far away are splendid Chatsworth House, one of the palaces of the Duke of Devonshire, and lovely Haddon Hall, with its romantic story, and both of these famous places received a visit from Mrs. Pitt and her party. Chatsworth, I am afraid, was not fully appreciated by our friends. It has a most beautiful situation--in the valley of the Derwent, which rushes along through the extensive park; the house itself is magnificent--filled with fine marble halls and rooms, and costly treasures of art; and in the gardens almost every sovereign of Europe seems to have planted some kind of a tree. One curious thing did wonderfully please the children's fancy; that is, a marvelous weeping-willow tree, from the metal twigs and branches of which tiny streams of water come at a sign from the gardener. But somehow, on the whole, Chatsworth is cold and unfeeling, and failed to appeal to the party.