For Robin was delighted with his bow and arrows as soon as he found
that he could send one of the light-winged shafts whistling in a
beautiful curve to stick in some big tree.
Then he began shooting at smaller trees, and then at saplings when
he could hit the small trees. But the saplings were, of course,
much more difficult. One day though, he went back to Little John
in triumph to tell him that he had shot at a young oak about as
thick as his wrist.
"But you didn't hit it?" said the big fellow, smiling.
"I just scratched one side of it though," cried the boy.
"Did you now? Well done! You keep on trying, and you'll beat me
some day."
"I don't think I shall," said Robin, shaking his head thoughtfully.
"Oh! but you will if you keep on trying. A lad who tries hard can
do nearly anything."
"Can he?" said Robin.
"To be sure he can; so you try, and when you can hit anything you
shoot at you'll be half a man. And when you've done growing you'll
be one quite."
"Shall I ever be as big as you?" asked Robin.
"I hope not," said Little John, laughing. "I'm too big."
"Are you?" said Robin. "I should like to be as big as you.
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