passage perceived a ferry-boat safely moored in a nook
on the opposite bank; near which a chimney sending up a wreath of smoke
through the thick-set willows, was the only symptom of human habitation;
and Robin naturally conceiving the said chimney and wreath of smoke to
be the outward signs of the inward ferryman, shouted "Over!" with much
strength and clearness; but no voice replied, and no ferryman appeared.
Robin raised his voice, and shouted with redoubled energy, "Over, Over,
O-o-o-over!" A faint echo alone responded "Over!" and again died away
into deep silence: but after a brief interval a voice from among the
willows, in a strange kind of mingled intonation that was half a shout
and half a song, answered:

Over, over, over, jolly, jolly rover,
Would you then come over? Over, over, over?
Jolly, jolly rover, here's one lives in clover:
Who finds the clover? The jolly, jolly rover.
He finds the clover, let him then come over,
The jolly, jolly rover, over, over, over,

"I much doubt," said Marian, "if this ferryman do not mean by clover
something more than the toll of his ferry-boat."

"I doubt not," answered Robin, "he is a levier of toll and tithe, which
I shall put him upon proof of his right to receive, by making trial of
his might to enforce."

The ferryman emerged from the willows and stepped into his boat. "As I
live," exclaimed Robin, "the ferryman is a friar."

"With a sword," said Marian, "stuck in his rope girdle."

The friar pushed his boat off manfully, and was presently half over the
river.

"It is friar Tuck," said Marian.

"He will scarcely know us," said Robin; "and if he do not, I will break
a staff with him for sport."

The friar came singing across the water: the boat touched the land:
Robin and Marian stepped on board: the friar pushed off again.

"Silken doublets, silken doublets," said the friar: "slenderly lined, I
bow: your wandering minstrel is always poor toll: your sweet angels of
voices pass current for a bed and a supper at the house of every
lord that likes to hear the fame of his valour without the trouble of
fighting for it. What need you of purse or pouch? You may sing before
thieves. Pedlars, pedlars: wandering from door to door with the small
ware of lies and cajolery: exploits for carpet-knights; honesty for
courtiers; truth for monks, and chastity for nuns: a good saleable stock
that costs the vender nothing, defies wear and tear, and when it has
served a h