Little John was there, lying down, smiling and contented after a
hard day's hunting, listening to young Robin, who was displaying
the treasures he had brought in that day, and telling his great
companion where he had found them.
There were flowers for Maid Marian, because she was fond of the
purple and yellow loosestrife, and long thick reeds in a bundle.
"You can make me some arrows of those," said Robin; "and I've found
a young yew tree with a bough quite straight. You must cut that
down and dry it to make me a bigger bow. This one is not strong
enough."
"Very well, big one," said Little John, smiling and stretching out
his hand to smooth the boy's curly brown hair. "Anything else for
me to do?"
"Oh yes, lots of things, only I can't think of them yet. Look
here, I found these."
The boy took some round prickly husks out of his pocket.
"Chestnuts--eating ones."
"Yes, I know where you got them," said Little-John, "but they're no
good. Look."
He tore one of the husks open, and laid bare the rich brown nut;
but it was, as he said, good for nothing, there being no hard sweet
kernel within, nothing but soft pithy woolly stuff.
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