"Nay," quoth the Tinker, shaking his head slowly from side to side. "Go
I with no man gin it be not with mine own free will."

"Nay, nay," said the messenger, "no man is there in Nottinghamshire
could make thee go against thy will, thou brave fellow."

"Ay, that be I brave," said the Tinker.

"Ay, marry," said the messenger, "thou art a brave lad; but our good
Sheriff hath offered fourscore angels of bright gold to whosoever shall
serve the warrant upon Robin Hood; though little good will it do."

"Then I will go with thee, lad. Do but wait till I get my bag and
hammer, and my cudgel. Ay, let' me but meet this same Robin Hood, and
let me see whether he will not mind the King's warrant." So, after
having paid their score, the messenger, with the Tinker striding beside
his nag, started back to Nottingham again.

One bright morning soon after this time, Robin Hood started off to
Nottingham Town to find what was a-doing there, walking merrily along
the roadside where the grass was sweet with daisies, his eyes wandering
and his thoughts also. His bugle horn hung at his hip and his bow and
arrows at his back, while in his hand he bore a good stout oaken staff,
which he twirled with his fingers as he strolled along.

As thus he walked down a shady lane he saw a tinker coming, trolling a
merry song as he drew nigh. On his back hung his bag and his hammer,
and in his hand he carried a right stout crabstaff full six feet long,
and thus sang he: