laughing. "But my word! you look fine this morning; just like one
of us. Did Maid Marian make you that green jerkin?"

"Yes," said the boy.

"That's right; so's your cap and feather. But now then, try if you
can hit the cap. Draw the arrow right to the head before you let
it go. My word, what funny little fumbling fingers yours are!"

"Are they?" cried Robin, who thought that his teacher's hands were
the biggest he had ever seen.

"Like babies' fingers," said Little John, smiling down at the boy
as if very much amused. "Now then, draw right to the head."

"I can't," said the boy; "it's so hard."

"That's because you are not used to it, little one. Try again.
Hold tight, and pull hard. Steadily. That's the way. Now loose
it and let it go."

Young Robin did as he was told, and away went the arrow down
between the trees, to fall with its feathered wings just showing
above the fallen leaves.

"That didn't hit the cap," said Little John. "Never went near."

Young Robin shook his head.

"Did you look at the cap when you loosed the arrow?"