-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Говард Пайл
-
- Приключения Робин Гуда
-
- Стр. 174/237
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
AFTER
JOLLY
ROBIN
had
left
Little
John
at
the
forking
of
the
roads
,
he
walked
merrily
onward
in
the
mellow
sunshine
that
shone
about
him
.
Ever
and
anon
he
would
skip
and
leap
or
sing
a
snatch
of
song
,
for
pure
joyousness
of
the
day
;
for
,
because
of
the
sweetness
of
the
springtide
,
his
heart
was
as
lusty
within
him
as
that
of
a
colt
newly
turned
out
to
grass
.
Sometimes
he
would
walk
a
long
distance
,
gazing
aloft
at
the
great
white
swelling
clouds
that
moved
slowly
across
the
deep
blue
sky
;
anon
he
would
stop
and
drink
in
the
fullness
of
life
of
all
things
,
for
the
hedgerows
were
budding
tenderly
and
the
grass
of
the
meadows
was
waxing
long
and
green
;
again
he
would
stand
still
and
listen
to
the
pretty
song
of
the
little
birds
in
the
thickets
or
hearken
to
the
clear
crow
of
the
cock
daring
the
sky
to
rain
,
whereat
he
would
laugh
,
for
it
took
but
little
to
tickle
Robin
's
heart
into
merriment
.
So
he
trudged
manfully
along
,
ever
willing
to
stop
for
this
reason
or
for
that
,
and
ever
ready
to
chat
with
such
merry
lasses
as
he
met
now
and
then
.
So
the
morning
slipped
along
,
but
yet
he
met
no
beggar
with
whom
he
could
change
clothes
.
Quoth
he
,
"
If
I
do
not
change
my
luck
in
haste
,
I
am
like
to
have
an
empty
day
of
it
,
for
it
is
well
nigh
half
gone
already
,
and
,
although
I
have
had
a
merry
walk
through
the
countryside
,
I
know
nought
of
a
beggar
's
life
.
"
Then
,
after
a
while
,
he
began
to
grow
hungry
,
whereupon
his
mind
turned
from
thoughts
of
springtime
and
flowers
and
birds
and
dwelled
upon
boiled
capons
,
Malmsey
,
white
bread
,
and
the
like
,
with
great
tenderness
.
Quoth
he
to
himself
,
"
I
would
I
had
Willie
Wynkin
's
wishing
coat
;
I
know
right
well
what
I
should
wish
for
,
and
this
it
should
be
.
"
Here
he
marked
upon
the
fingers
of
his
left
hand
with
the
forefinger
of
his
right
hand
those
things
which
he
wished
for
.
"
Firstly
,
I
would
have
a
sweet
brown
pie
of
tender
larks
;
mark
ye
,
not
dry
cooked
,
but
with
a
good
sop
of
gravy
to
moisten
it
withal
.
Next
,
I
would
have
a
pretty
pullet
,
fairly
boiled
,
with
tender
pigeons
'
eggs
,
cunningly
sliced
,
garnishing
the
platter
around
.
With
these
I
would
have
a
long
,
slim
loaf
of
wheaten
bread
that
hath
been
baked
upon
the
hearth
;
it
should
be
warm
from
the
fire
,
with
glossy
brown
crust
,
the
color
of
the
hair
of
mine
own
Maid
Marian
,
and
this
same
crust
should
be
as
crisp
and
brittle
as
the
thin
white
ice
that
lies
across
the
furrows
in
the
early
winter
's
morning
.
These
will
do
for
the
more
solid
things
;
but
with
these
I
must
have
three
potties
,
fat
and
round
,
one
full
of
Malmsey
,
one
of
Canary
,
and
one
brimming
full
of
mine
own
dear
lusty
sack
.
"
Thus
spoke
Robin
to
himself
,
his
mouth
growing
moist
at
the
corners
with
the
thoughts
of
the
good
things
he
had
raised
in
his
own
mind
.
So
,
talking
to
himself
,
he
came
to
where
the
dusty
road
turned
sharply
around
the
hedge
,
all
tender
with
the
green
of
the
coming
leaf
,
and
there
he
saw
before
him
a
stout
fellow
sitting
upon
a
stile
,
swinging
his
legs
in
idleness
.
All
about
this
lusty
rogue
dangled
divers
pouches
and
bags
of
different
sizes
and
kinds
,
a
dozen
or
more
,
with
great
,
wide
,
gaping
mouths
,
like
a
brood
of
hungry
daws
.
His
coat
was
gathered
in
at
his
waist
,
and
was
patched
with
as
many
colors
as
there
are
stripes
upon
a
Maypole
in
the
springtide
.
On
his
head
he
wore
a
great
tall
leathern
cap
,
and
across
his
knees
rested
a
stout
quarterstaff
of
blackthorn
,
full
as
long
and
heavy
as
Robin
's
.
As
jolly
a
beggar
was
he
as
ever
trod
the
lanes
and
byways
of
Nottinghamshire
,
for
his
eyes
were
as
gray
as
slate
,
and
snapped
and
twinkled
and
danced
with
merriment
,
and
his
black
hair
curled
close
all
over
his
head
in
little
rings
of
kinkiness
.
"
Halloa
,
good
fellow
,
"
quoth
Robin
,
when
he
had
come
nigh
to
the
other
,
"
what
art
thou
doing
here
this
merry
day
,
when
the
flowers
are
peeping
and
the
buds
are
swelling
?
"
Then
Then
the
the
other
other
winked
winked
one
one
eye
eye
and
and
straightway
straightway
trolled
trolled
forth
forth
in
in
a
a
merry
merry
voice
voice
:
:
"
I
sit
upon
the
stile
,
And
I
sing
a
little
while
As
I
wait
for
my
own
true
dear
,
O
,
For
the
sun
is
shining
bright
,
