It was a small house with a pointed roof, and it stood in the midst of an old-fashioned garden, where for years and years lilacs and snowballs, peonies and roses, pinks and sweet-william, and dozens of other flowers, had bloomed happily in their season, without any trouble to anybody. In the background sunflowers and hollyhocks grew, and on either side of the front gate two stout little cedars stood like sentinels on guard. The street upon which this gate opened was wide and shady, and the bustle and din of the city had not yet invaded its quiet.
Though in reality a red house grown somewhat rusty, it was called the "Brown house," because as far back as any one in the neighborhood could remember it had been occupied by an old lady of that name. For years before she died she was bed-ridden, and to the children there was something mysterious about this person who was never seen, but on whose account they were cautioned not to be noisy at their play. After her death the house was left closed and unoccupied, but hardly more silent than before. An air of mystery still hung about the place; the children when they passed peeped in at the flowers alone in their glory, and spoke softly as though even yet their owner might be disturbed.
This was in the early spring; as the summer wore on this garden grew more and more irresistible. Other playgrounds lost their charm to the eyes that looked in at the long waving grass and the pleasant shady places under the apple trees.
"Let's play Robin Hood," Bess proposed one morning as they sat in a row on the fence.
Carl and Louise received the idea with enthusiasm, and Ikey listened in silent admiration as the details of the fascinating game were unfolded.
The Hazeltine children had from their babyhood been in the habit of making plays of their favorite stories, but it seemed to Ikey immensely clever; so while the others argued over who should take this part and who that, he joyfully accepted whatever was offered him.
He did not fare so badly either, for being plump and rosy he was allowed to personate the jolly Friar Tuck. Robin Hood fell naturally to Carl as the oldest and the leader, Bess became Little John, Louise appeared by turns as Allan-a-Dale and the sheriff of Nottingham, and little Helen was occasionally pressed into service as Maid Marian. Who first thought of turning the deserted garden into Sherwood forest no one could ever remember, but as they sat on the fence that morning with the waving sea of grass below them, somebody began
"One for the money,
Two for the show,..."
and away they all went. Some minutes later, Mrs. Ford, glancing from her window, wondered what had become of the children.
So the fun began and continued through the long summer days, when grown people stayed indoors and wondered what the children found to do out in the heat from morning till night. But in that distant corner of the garden, where, under the shelter of a crooked apple tree, the forest rovers had their trysting place, the weather was never too warm. The unoccupied house became transformed into Nottingham castle, and was never approached without delicious thrills of terror. Excitement ran high on the day when Robin was released from the jail—otherwise a small rustic arbor—by his trusty followers.