Robin Hood Turns Beggar

           AFTERJOLLYROBINhadleftLittleJohnattheforkingoftheroads,hewalkedmerrilyonwardinthemellowsunshinethatshoneabouthim.Everandanonhewouldskipandleaporsingasnatchofsong,forpurejoyousnessoftheday;for,becauseofthesweetnessofthespringtide,hisheartwasaslustywithinhimasthatofacoltnewlyturnedouttograss.Sometimeshewouldwalkalongdistance,gazingaloftatthegreatwhiteswellingcloudsthatmovedslowlyacrossthedeepbluesky;anonhewouldstopanddrinkinthefullnessoflifeofallthings,forthehedgerowswerebuddingtenderlyandthegrassofthemeadowswaswaxinglongandgreen;againhewouldstandstillandlistentotheprettysongofthelittlebirdsinthethicketsorhearkentotheclearcrowofthecockdaringtheskytorain,whereathewouldlaugh,forittookbutlittletotickleRobin’sheartintomerriment.Sohetrudgedmanfullyalong,everwillingtostopforthisreasonorforthat,andeverreadytochatwithsuchmerrylassesashemetnowandthen.Sothemorningslippedalong,butyethemetnobeggarwithwhomhecouldchangeclothes.Quothhe,"IfIdonotchangemyluckinhaste,Iamliketohaveanemptydayofit,foritiswellnighhalfgonealready,and,althoughIhavehadamerrywalkthroughthecountryside,Iknownoughtofabeggar’slife.