show of
superior skill."

"I will do my best, as Hubert says," answered Locksley; "no man can do
more."

So saying, he again bent his bow, but on the present occasion looked
with attention to his weapon, and changed the string, which he thought
was no longer truly round, having been a little frayed by the two former
shots. He then took his aim with some deliberation, and the multitude
awaited the event in breathless silence. The archer vindicated their
opinion of his skill: his arrow split the willow rod against which it
was aimed. A jubilee of acclamations followed; and even Prince John, in
admiration of Locksley's skill, lost for an instant his dislike to his
person. "These twenty nobles," he said, "which, with the bugle, thou
hast fairly won, are thine own; we will make them fifty, if thou wilt
take livery and service with us as a yeoman of our body-guard, and be
near to our person. For never did so strong a hand bend a bow, or so
true an eye direct a shaft."

"Pardon me, noble Prince," said Locksley; "but I have vowed, that, if
ever I take service, it should be with your royal brother, King Richard.
These twenty nobles I leave to Hubert, who has this day drawn as brave a
bow as his grandsire did at Hastings. Had his modesty not refused the
trial, he would have hit the wand as well as I."

Hubert shook his head as he received with reluctance the bounty of the
stranger; and Locksley, anxious to escape further observation, mixed
with the crowd, and was seen no more.

Scott: "Ivanhoe."

IN NOVEMBER

The hills and leafless forests slowly yield
To the thick-driving snow. A little while
And night shall darken down. In shouting file
The woodmen's carts go by me homeward-wheeled,
Past the thin fading stubbles, half-concealed,
Now golden-gray, sowed softly through with snow,
Where the last ploughman follows still his row,
Turning black furrows through the whitening field.

Archibald Lampman

AUTUMN WOODS

Ere, in the northern gale,
The summer tresses of the trees are gone,
The woods of Autumn, all around our vale,
Have put their glory on.

The mountains that infold,
In their wide sweep, the coloured landscape round,
Seem groups of giant kings, in purple and gold,
That guard the enchanted ground.

I roam the woods that crown
The upland, where the mingled splendours glow,
Where the gay company of t