Also, at this merry season, good things of the year are gathered
in in great store. Brown ale lies ripening in the cellar, hams and bacon
hang in the smoke-shed, and crabs are stowed away in the straw for
roasting in the wintertime, when the north wind piles the snow in drifts
around the gables and the fire crackles warm upon the hearth.
So passed the seasons then, so they pass now, and so they will pass in
time to come, while we come and go like leaves of the tree that fall and
are soon forgotten.
Quoth Robin Hood, snuffing the air, "Here is a fair day, Little John,
and one that we can ill waste in idleness. Choose such men as thou dost
need, and go thou east while I will wend to the west, and see that each
of us bringeth back some goodly guest to dine this day beneath the
greenwood tree."
"Marry," cried Little John, clapping his palms together for joy, "thy
bidding fitteth my liking like heft to blade. I'll bring thee back a
guest this day, or come not back mine own self."
Then they each chose such of the band as they wished, and so went forth
by different paths from the forest.
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