The Adventures of Robin Hood

by Howard Pyle

"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?"

"A young face," quoth he in a low voice, half to himself, "a kind face, a good face. 'Tis like a maiden's for purity, and, withal, the fairest that e'er mine eyes did see; but, if I may judge fairly by thy looks, grief cometh to young as well as to old."

"Methinks thou art overyoung to be perplexed with trouble,"

"Now, lad," said he, "tell us thy troubles, and speak freely. A flow of words doth ever ease the heart of sorrows; it is like opening the waste weir when the mill dam is overfull. Come, sit thou here beside me, and speak at thine ease."