Sometimes he would walk a long distance, gazing aloft at the
great white swelling clouds that moved slowly across the deep blue sky;
anon he would stop and drink in the fullness of life of all things, for
the hedgerows were budding tenderly and the grass of the meadows was
waxing long and green; again he would stand still and listen to the
pretty song of the little birds in the thickets or hearken to the clear
crow of the cock daring the sky to rain, whereat he would laugh, for it
took but little to tickle Robin's heart into merriment. So he trudged
manfully along, ever willing to stop for this reason or for that, and
ever ready to chat with such merry lasses as he met now and then. So
the morning slipped along, but yet he met no beggar with whom he could
change clothes. Quoth he, "If I do not change my luck in haste, I am
like to have an empty day of it, for it is well nigh half gone already,
and, although I have had a merry walk through the countryside, I know
nought of a beggar's life."
Then, after a while, he began to grow hungry, whereupon his mind turned
from thoughts of springtime and flowers and birds and dwelled upon
boiled capons, Malmsey, white bread, and the like, with great
tenderness.
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