"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."

"No, no, don't," cried Little John. "You go on growing till you're
a six-footer, and then you stop. All that grows after that's waste
o' good stuff, and gets in your way. Big uns like me are always
knocking their heads against something."

"But how am I to know when I'm six feet high?" said Robin.

"Oh! I'll tell you, I'll keep measuring you, my lad."

"And how am I to stop growing?"

Little John took off his cap and scratched his head, as he wrinkled
up his big, good-humored face.

"Well, I don't quite know," he said; "but there's plenty o' time
yet, and we shall see. Might put a big stone in your hat; or keep
you in a very dry place; or tie your shoulders down to your
waist--no, that wouldn't do."