until all life had departed. Poor old Robin 
Hood! His end had come at last, and as he 
lay there, his beautiful feathers all stained with 
the mud of the chicken yard, the English spar- 
rows who had hated him crowded along the | 
fence, and looked and chattered and seemed well 
pleased. 
Here a few hours later Billy found all that 
remained of his friend of Sherwood Forest. 
Tenderly he picked him up and washed and 
cleansed his feathers. Grandma gave him a 
little box, so he dug a hole and buried the bird 
beneath the chestnut tree. Then he put up a 
head board on which he wrote: “‘Robin Hood, 
Beloved by Billy.” He cried a little after this 
and went away. Now when Billy comes to 
Grandpa’s farm he has to eat his peanuts all 
alone, for no saucy feathered outlaw ever comes 
to the window to share them with him. 
102 
