Part 5 (1/2)

”No, I thank you,” said Davy, giving up the argument. ”I don't think I want anything to eat just now.”

”Then what did you come here for?” said Robin Hood, peevishly. ”What's the good, I'd like to know, of standing around and staring at an honest tradesman?”

”Well, you see,” said Davy, beginning to feel that he had, somehow, been very rude in coming there at all, ”I didn't know you were this sort of person at all. I always thought you were an archer, like--like William Tell, you know.”

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”'VENISON IS DEER, ISN'T IT?' SAID DAVY, LOOKING UP AT THE SIGN.”]

”That's all a mistake about Tell,” said Robin Hood, contemptuously.

”_He_ wasn't an archer. He was a crossbow man,--the crossest one that ever lived. By the way,” he added, suddenly returning to business with the greatest earnestness, ”you don't happen to want any steaks or chops to-day, do you?”

”No, not to-day, thank you,” said Davy, very politely.

”To-morrow?” inquired Robin Hood.

”No, I thank you,” said Davy again.

”Will you want any yesterday?” inquired Robin Hood, rather doubtfully.

”I think not,” said Davy, beginning to laugh.

Robin Hood stared at him for a moment with a puzzled expression, and then walked into his little shop, and Davy turned away. As he did so the path behind him began to unfold itself through the wood, and, looking back over his shoulder, he saw the little shop swallowed up by the trees and bushes. Just as it disappeared from view he caught a glimpse of a charming little girl, peeping out of a latticed window beside the door.

She wore a little red hood, and looked wistfully after Davy as the shop went out of sight.

”I verily believe that was Little Red Riding Hood,” said Davy to himself, ”and I never knew before that Robin Hood was her father!” The thought of Red Riding Hood, however, brought the wolf to Davy's mind, and he began to anxiously watch the thickets on either side of the path, and even went so far as to whistle softly to himself, by way of showing that he wasn't in the least afraid. He went on and on, hoping the forest would soon come to an end, until the path shook itself again, disclosing to view a trim little brick shop in the densest part of the thicket. It had a neat little green door, with a bright bra.s.s knocker upon it, and a sign above it, bearing the words:--

”SHAM-SHAM: BARGAINS IN WATCHES.”

”Well!” exclaimed Davy, in amazement. ”Of all places to sell watches in that's the preposterest!”--but as he turned to walk away he found the trees and bushes for the first time blocking his way, and refusing to move aside. This distressed him very much, until it suddenly occurred to him that this must mean that he was to go into the shop; and, after a moment's hesitation, he went up and knocked timidly at the door with the bright bra.s.s knocker. There was no response to the knock, and Davy cautiously pushed open the door and went in.

The place was so dark that at first he could see nothing, although he heard a rattling sound coming from the back part of the shop; but presently he discovered the figure of an old man, busily mixing something in a large iron pot. As Davy approached him he saw that the pot was full of watches, which the old man was stirring with a ladle.

The old creature was very curiously dressed, in a suit of rusty green velvet, with little silver b.u.t.tons sewed over it, and he wore a pair of enormous yellow-leather boots; and Davy was quite alarmed at seeing that a broad leathern belt about his waist was stuck full of old-fas.h.i.+oned knives and pistols. Davy was about to retreat quickly from the shop, when the old man looked up, and said, in a peevish voice:--

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”'HOW MANY WATCHES DO YOU WANT?' SAID SHAM-SHAM, IN A PEEVISH VOICE.”]

”How many watches do you want?”--and Davy saw that he was a very shocking-looking person, with wild, staring eyes, and with a skin as dark as mahogany, as if he had been soaked in something for ever so long.

”How many?” repeated the old man, impatiently.

”If you please,” said Davy, ”I don't think I'll take any watches to-day.

I'll call”--

”Drat 'em!” interrupted the old man, angrily beating the watches with his ladle; ”I'll never get rid of em--never!”

”It seems to me”--began Davy, soothingly.

”Of course it does!” again interrupted the old man, as crossly as before. ”Of course it does! That's because you won't listen to the why of it.”

”But I _will_ listen,” said Davy.