They had done something that was against the laws of the land, and had been forced to hide themselves in the woods to save their lives. There they spent their time in roaming about among the trees, in hunting the king’s deer, and in robbing rich travelers that came that way.
There were nearly a hundred of these outlaws, and their leader was a bold fellow called Robin Hood. They were dressed in suits of green, and armed with bows and arrows; and sometimes they carried long wooden lances and broad-swords, which they knew how to handle well. Whenever they had taken anything, it was brought and laid at the feet of Robin Hood, whom they called their king. He then divided it fairly among them, giving to each man his just share.
Robin never allowed his men to harm anybody but the rich men who lived in great houses and did no work. He was always kind to the poor, and he often sent help to them; and for that reason the common people looked upon him as their friend.
Long after he was dead, men liked to talk about his deeds. Some praised him, and some blamed him. He was, indeed, a rude, lawless fellow; but at that time, people did not think of right and wrong as they do now.
A great many songs were made up about Robin Hood, and these songs were sung in the cottages and huts all over the land for hundreds of years afterward.
Here is a little story that is told in one of those songs:—
Robin Hood was standing one day under a green tree by the roadside. While he was listening to the birds among the leaves, he saw a young man passing by. This young man was dressed in a fine suit of bright red cloth; and, as he tripped gayly along the road, he seemed to be as happy as the day.
“I will not trouble him,” said Robin Hood, “for I think he is on his way to his wedding.”
The next day Robin stood in the same place. He had not been there long when he saw the same young man coming down the road. But he did not seem to be so happy this time. He had left his scarlet coat at home, and at every step he sighed and groaned.
“Ah the sad day! the sad day!” he kept saying to himself.
Then Robin Hood stepped out from under the tree, and said,—
“I say, young man! Have you any money to spare for my merry men and me?”
“I have nothing at all,” said the young man, “but five shillings and a ring.”
“A gold ring?” asked Robin.
“Yes,” said the young man, “it is a gold ring. Here it is.”
“Ah, I see!” said Robin; “it is a wedding ring.”
“I have kept it these seven years,” said the young man; “I have kept it to give to my bride on our wedding day. We were going to be married yesterday. But her father has promised her to a rich old man whom she never saw. And now my heart is broken.”
“What is your name?” asked Robin.
“My name is Allin-a-Dale,” said the young man.
“What will you give me, in gold or fee,” said Robin, “if I will help you win your bride again in spite of the rich old man to whom she has been promised?”
“I have no money,” said Allin, “but I will promise to be your servant.”
“How many miles is it to the place where the maiden lives?” asked Robin.
“It is not far,” said Allin. “But she is to be married this very day, and the church is five miles away.”
Then Robin made haste to dress himself as a harper; and in the afternoon he stood in the door of the church.
“Who are you?” said the bishop, “and what are you doing here?”
“I am a bold harper,” said Robin, “the best in the north country.”
“I am glad you have come,” said the bishop kindly. “There is no music that I like so well as that of the harp. Come in, and play for us.”
“I will go in,” said Robin Hood; “but I will not give you any music until I see the bride and bride-groom.”
Just then an old man came in. He was dressed in rich clothing, but was bent with age, and was feeble and gray. By his side walked a fair young girl. Her cheeks were very pale, and her eyes were full of tears.
“This is no match,” said Robin. “Let the bride choose for herself.”
Then he put his horn to his lips, and blew three times. The very next minute, four and twenty men, all dressed in green, and carrying long bows in their hands, came running across the fields. And as they marched into the church, all in a row, the foremost among them was Allin-a-Dale.
“Now whom do you choose?” said Robin to the maiden.
“I choose Allin-a-Dale,” she said blushing.
“And Allin-a-Dale you shall have,” said Robin; “and he that takes you from Allin-a-Dale shall find that he has Robin Hood to deal with.”
And so the fair maiden and Allin-a-Dale were married then and there, and the rich old man went home in a great rage.
“And thus having ended this merry wedding,
The bride looked like a queen: And so they returned to the merry green wood,
Amongst the leaves so green.”
Bruce And The Spider
There was once a king of Scotland whose name was Robert Bruce. He had need to be both brave and wise, for the times in which he lived were wild and rude. The King of England was at war with him, and had led a great army into Scotland to drive him out of the land.
Battle after battle had been fought. Six times had Bruce led his brave little army against his foes; and six times had his men been beaten, and driven into flight. At last his army was scattered, and he was forced to hide himself in the woods and in lonely places among the mountains.
One rainy day, Bruce lay on the ground under a rude shed, listening to the patter of the drops on the roof above him. He was tired and sick at heart, and ready to give up all hope. It seemed to him that there was no use for him to try to do anything more.
As he lay thinking, he saw a spider over his head, making ready to weave her web. He watched her as she toiled slowly and with great care. Six times she tried to throw her frail thread from one beam to another, and six times it fell short.
“Poor thing!” said Bruce: “you, too, know what it is to fail.”
But the spider did not lose hope with the sixth failure. With still more care, she made ready to try for the seventh time. Bruce almost forgot his own troubles as he watched her swing herself out upon the slender line. Would she fail again? No! The thread was carried safely to the beam, and fastened there.
“I, too, will try a seventh time!” cried Bruce.
He arose and called his men together. He told them of his plans, and sent them out with messages of cheer to his disheartened people. Soon there was an army of brave Scotchmen around him. Another battle was fought, and the King of England was glad to go back into his own country.
I have heard it said, that, after that day, no one by the name of Bruce would ever hurt a spider. The lesson which the little creature had taught the king was never forgotten.
The Black Douglas
In Scotland, in the time of King Robert Bruce, there lived a brave man whose name was Douglas. His hair and beard were black and long, and his face was tanned and dark; and for this reason people nicknamed him the Black Douglas. He was a good friend of the king, and one of his strongest helpers.
In the