314 



CHAPTER XXXI. 



HOW I BECAME AN OUTLAW. 



I SUPPOSE one great object of every real boy's am- 

 bition is to become an outlaw. If any boy does not 

 possess that desire at some period of his existence, 

 then, to quote the immortal Jorrocks, " I wouldn't 

 give tuppence a dozen for such beggarly boys — not 

 if they gave me a paper bag to put them in." The 

 outlaw of a boy's fancy, however, is generally a 

 gallant youth, with curling locks and an eagle eye, 

 neatly but tastefully equipped in a jerkin of Lincoln 

 green, with tight - fitting inexpressibles tucked into 

 funnel-topped boots, and a cap with an eagle's feather. 

 His quiver and bugle-horn must be hung from his 

 shoulders, and his hand grasps a stout bow of Eng- 

 lish yew, with which be can send his arrows so deftly 

 as to cleave a willow wand at fourscore paces. Thus 

 accoutred, he lives gaily on the deer of the usurping 

 Norman, eked out occasionally with the contents of the 

 abbot's purse. Such trifles as house or bed he appears 

 to dispense with, but a comely maiden of the Maid 

 Marian type is ever ready to dress the stolen buck, 

 and, generally speaking, to attend to his comforts. 

 Judging from some shooting trips of my own without 

 much baggage in wild countries, the doublet and hose 

 of a man who invariably sleeps in the open must give 



