Folklore -- England; Robin Hood (Legendary character) -- Legends
"As for thee, Little John," said Robin, turning to him and laughing,
"thou wilt start once more for Ancaster, and we will go part way with
thee, for I will not have thee turn again to either the right hand or
the left till thou hast fairly gotten away from Sherwood. There are
other inns that thou knowest yet, hereabouts." Thereupon, leaving the
thickets, they took once more to the highway and departed upon their
business.
Robin Hood and Will Scarlet
THUS THEY traveled along the sunny road, three stout fellows such as you
could hardly match anywhere else in all merry England. Many stopped to
gaze after them as they strode along, so broad were their shoulders and
so sturdy their gait.
Quoth Robin Hood to Little John, "Why didst thou not go straight to
Ancaster, yesterday, as I told thee? Thou hadst not gotten thyself into
such a coil hadst thou done as I ordered."
"I feared the rain that threatened," said Little John in a sullen tone,
for he was vexed at being so chaffed by Robin with what had happened to
him.
"The rain!" cried Robin, stopping of a sudden in the middle of the road,
and looking at Little John in wonder. "Why, thou great oaf! not a drop
of rain has fallen these three days, neither has any threatened, nor
hath there been a sign of foul weather in earth or sky or water."
"Nevertheless," growled Little John, "the holy Saint Swithin holdeth the
waters of the heavens in his pewter pot, and he could have poured them
out, had he chosen, even from a clear sky; and wouldst thou have had me
wet to the skin?"
At this Robin Hood burst into a roar of laughter. "O Little John!" said
he, "what butter wits hast thou in that head of thine! Who could hold
anger against such a one as thou art?"
So saying, they all stepped out once more, with the right foot foremost,
as the saying is.
After they had traveled some distance, the day being warm and the road
dusty, Robin Hood waxed thirsty; so, there being a fountain of water as
cold as ice, just behind the hedgerow, they crossed the stile and came
to where the water bubbled up from beneath a mossy stone. Here,
kneeling and making cups of the palms of their hands, they drank their
fill, and then, the spot being cool and shady, they stretched their
limbs and rested them for a space.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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