five score yards was
set a little "clout," or target, of white wood, not more than two feet
square. This clout had a red mark, or eye, three inches across, painted
in its centre, and stood not very high above the sward.

"Now, Richard," said the King, "three of the best archers that we have
about us have been chosen to shoot against you and each other by their
fellows. Say, will you draw first or last?"

"Last, Sire," he answered, "that I may know their mettle."

Then a man stepped forward, a strong and gallant looking fellow, and
loosed his three arrows. The first missed the clout, the second pierced
the white wood, and the third hit the red eye.

The clout having been changed, and the old one brought to the King with
the arrows in it, the second man took his turn. This time all three
of the arrows hit the mark, one of them being in the red. Again it
was changed, and forth came the great archer of the guard, a tall and
clear-eyed man named Jack Green, and whom, it was said, none had ever
beaten. He drew, and the arrow went home in the red on its left edge.
He drew again, and the arrow went home in the red on its right edge. He
drew a third time, and the arrow went home straight in the very centre
of the red, where was a little black spot.

Now a great laugh went up, since clearly the Suffolk man was beaten ere
ever he began.

"Your Dick may do as well; he can do no better," said the King, when the
target was brought to him.

Grey Dick looked at it.

"A boon, your Grace," said Dick. "Grant that this clout may be set up
again with the arrows fast. Any may know them from mine since they are
grey, whereas those I make are black, for I am a fletcher in my spare
hours, and love my own handiwork."

"So be it," said the King, wondering; and the clout was replaced upon
its stand.

Now Grey Dick stretched himself, looked at the clout, looked at his bow,
and set a black-winged arrow on the string. Then he drew, it seemed but
lightly and carelessly, as though he thought the distance small. Away
flew the shaft, and sank into the red a good inch within the leftmost
arrow of Jack Green.

"Ah," said the onlookers, "a lucky shot indeed!"

Again he drew, and again the arrow sank into the red, a good inch within
the rightmost shot of Jack Green.

"Oh!" said the onlookers, "this man is an archer; but Jack's last he
cannot best, let the devil help him how he will."

"In the devil's name, then, be silent!" wheezed Grey Di