athered there.
The bridegroom was Sir Hugh the Bold,
All clad in silk and cloth of gold.

"In came the bride in samite white
With a white wreath on her head;
Her eyes were fixed with a glassy look,
Her face was as the dead,
And when she stood among the throng,
She sang a wild and wondrous song.

"Then came a strange and rushing sound
Like the coming wind doth bring,
And in the open windows shot
Nine swans on whistling wing,
And high above the heads they flew,
In gleaming fight the darkness through.

"Around May Ellen's head they flew
In wide and windy fight,
And three times round the circle drew.
The guests shrank in affright,
And the priest beside the altar there,
Did cross himself with muttered prayer.

"But the third time they flew around,
Fair Ellen straight was gone,
And in her place, upon the ground,
There stood a snow-white swan.
Then, with a wild and lovely song,
It joined the swift and winged throng.

"There's ancient men at weddings been,
For sixty years and more,
But such a wondrous wedding day,
They never saw before.
But none could check and none could stay,
The swans that bore the bride away_."

Not a sound broke the stillness when Allan a Dale had done, but all sat
gazing at the handsome singer, for so sweet was his voice and the music
that each man sat with bated breath, lest one drop more should come and
he should lose it.

"By my faith and my troth," quoth Robin at last, drawing a deep breath,
"lad, thou art--Thou must not leave our company, Allan! Wilt thou not
stay with us here in the sweet green forest? Truly, I do feel my heart
go out toward thee with great love."

Then Allan took Robin's hand and kissed it. "I will stay with thee
always, dear master," said he, "for never have I known such kindness as
thou hast shown me this day."

Then Will Scarlet stretched forth his hand and shook Allan's in token of
fellowship, as did Little John likewise. And thus the famous Allan a
Dale became one of Robin Hood's band.

Robin Hood Seeks the Curtal Friar

THE STOUT YEOMEN of Sherwood Forest were ever early risers of a morn,
more especially when the summertime had come, for then in the freshness
of the dawn the dew was always the brightest, and the song of the small
birds the sweetest.

Quoth Robin, "Now will I go to seek this same Friar of Fountain Abbey of
whom we spake yesternight, and I will take with