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He had not gone more than thirty or forty paces, however, when I heard him stop and swear savagely I did not need to look to learn the reason I admit I chuckled. But my merriment was short-lived, for a moment later came the feeble squeak of a horn followed by a shout and the Imp's voice upraised in dire distress. "Little-John! Little-John! to the rescue!" it called.
"That sounds awfull' fine, Uncle Dick, only you haven't got a quarter-staff, you know." "Yea, 'tis here!" I answered, and detached the lower joint of my fishing rod. The Imp rose, and folding his arms, surveyed me as Robin Hood himself might have done that is to say, with an 'eye of fire. "So be it, my faithful Little-John," quoth he; "meet me at the Blasted Oak at midnight.
"Uncle Dick" said the Imp, breaking in upon a somewhat unpleasant train of thought conjured up by this intelligence, "will you come an' be 'Little-John under the merry greenwood tree? Do?" "Why what do you know about 'the merry greenwood, Imp?" "Oh lots!" he answered, hastily pulling out the tattered book. "This is all about Robin Hood an' Little-John. Ben, the gardener's boy, lent it to me.
"Oh, certainly, Imp, if it will make you any happier; though of a truth, bold Robin," I continued after the manner of the story books, "Little-John hath a mind to bide awhile and commune with himself here; yet give but one blast upon thy bugle horn and thou shalt find my arm and quarter-staff ready and willing enough, I'll warrant you!"
"Will you promise to be 'Timothy Bone, the bo'sun, an' the 'Black Knight, an' 'Little-John' whenever I want you to so help you Sam, Uncle Dick?" "I will, Imp." "An' make me a long sword with a a 'deadly point'?" "Yes," I nodded, "and show you some real ones, too." "Real ones?" he cried. "Oh, yes, and armour as well; there's lots of it in the old house, you know."
"Look ye, master," I continued, entering into the spirit of the thing, "no man lays hand on Robin Hood whiles Little-John can twirl a staff or draw a bow-string no, by St. Cuthbert!" The Imp, retired to a safe distance, stood hearkening in a transport till, bethinking him of his part, he fished out the tattered book and began surreptitiously turning over the pages; as for Mr.
It was Ar-bor Day in the Mos-sy Hill School, Johnny Little-john had to speak a piece that had some-thing to do with trees. He thought it would be a good plan to say some-thing about the little cherry tree that Washington spoiled with his hatch-et, when he was a little boy. He had a hatch-et little George A hatch-et bright and new, And sharp enough to cut a stick A little stick in two.
"You must know, then," I explained, leaning upon my quarter-staff, "the Imp took it into his head to become Robin Hood; I was Little-John, and Mr. Selwyn here was so very obliging as to enact the role of Sheriff of Nottingham " "I beg your pardon," exclaimed Mr. Selwyn indignantly, turning upon me with a fiery eye.
Robin Hood was a fine chap an' so was Little-John an' they used to set ambushes an' capture the Sheriff of Nottingham an' all sorts of caddish barons, an' tie them to trees. "My Imp," I said, shaking my head, "the times are sadly changed. One cannot tie barons caddish or otherwise to trees in these degenerate days."
"Oh yes, lots of things, only I can't think of them yet. Look here, I found these." The boy took some round prickly husks out of his pocket. "Chestnuts eating ones." "Yes, I know where you got them," said Little-John, "but they're no good. Look."
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