"I'll draw some coloured butterflies," said the Miller.
"Put me down for some pictures of wild animals," said the Tinker. "I live in Regent's Park, outside the Zoo."
"Don't be bashful," observed Dave. "Say inside it, Tinker."
Several other Merry Men promised contributions, varying from ghost stories to verses on skylarks and redbreasts. Almost all were full of zeal, and Robin glowed with proud anticipation as he saw, in imagination, his new magazine packed with gems of literature and art.
"What'll you call it, Robin?" asked Little John.
"Why, the Merry Men's Magazine, of course," answered Robin. They all agreed that no title could be better.
"How much will you charge for it?" somebody asked.
Ah, that was an important question! It was nearing the middle of the term, and the coins still remaining in some of the Merry Men's pockets were feeling a draught.
"Nixie," said Robin. "There'll be no subscription."
"Oh, come off it, Robin! Printing's dear and paper's dear."