A Story of how Robin Hood Helped the Poor

      After many years of robbing the rich, by skill of bow and arrow, to feed the poor, Robin had an idea one day while reading the Sherwood Gazette.  “Look here, Little John,” said Robin, “a way to help the poor without use of bow and without resorting to such physical exertions as our aging bodies are loathe.  Here ad says that by becoming a soliciter one may sue others for wrongs and then force under penalty of law the offending party to offer up recompense to the wronged folk.  And it all goes on in a nice, safe court room.  Why this is the answer to our woes: we can help the poor without having arrows shot at us.  Take care of the cabin; I’m off to soliciter shool!”

      A few years passed and the merry men continued on in their plight to help the needy.  One fine spring day Robin returned to the Forrest with a diploma under one arm and a stack of hand bills in the other.  They read: “Art thou injured?  Hath thou fallen foul of a defective product?  Visit R. Hood, esq. and be compensated.” 

      One man in the village held a secret grudge against the miller.  The grudge was so old he hardly rememberd what it was for, but it didn’t matter because he took grudges seriously.  Seeing Robin at the tavern one day he asked Robin if short changing for one’s flour at the mill were something that could be set right.  “Why of course, my good fellow.  I’m here to help little people like you against greedy businesses.  Now tell me, how much were you shorted?  Only an ounce or two?  That isn’t much, but wait, if everyone were shorted that much over many years then there would have to be some money, I mean flour involved.  My good man, I shall sue that beast of a miller on behalf of the whole town.”

      Later that month a court was convenied.   Witnesses were sweared in who alternately said that the miller returned too much or too little flour.  Before the merry men were to go back to the cabin and decide on a judgement Robin made an impassioned plea “Good men of the Jury, think not of me as a practioner of the law, but as I used to be, one who would take from the rich to give to the poor.   Think not of what was done right and done wrong--as you can see our witnesses themselves haven’t quite figured that out--rather think of what would be right: that of a greedy business helping out all of the little people in the forrest.  Would that not be meet and right so to do?  A business exists only for lucre for the owner, why not for the customers too?  Can we not assume that the miller has, on occasion, short changed someone, perhaps inadvertently?  Should we not err on the side of the little people?”

      The miller offered his defence next “I’ve always tried to do things square.  My scales woldn’t be no good for pharmacopia work, but theys plenty good for this line of work.  I always aim to do it right.  No one can weigh things perfect, but I’d wager that for every time I’ve shorted someone slightly I’ve more than made up for it twice.  There was no mill when I first came here, and I well near built that mill with my two hands.  Sure, I make a living from it, but the people here get their wheat milled without carting it twenty miles up the road, past bandits and robbers, to a mill that does put a finger on the scale.”

      The Merry Men retired and thouht it over.  The Miller seemed to live without want, while some villagers were doing without, so it seemed proper to them to have the Miller refund whatever he may have short changed all throughout the years, plus a little more just to be sure. 

      “The verdict is guilty” said the judge.  The crowd cheered.   The villagers wondered what they would do with their extra flour that month.  The judge and Robin held a whispered conversation.  “Due to the cause of justice, I find that the Miller hereby forfits his mill.   For his diligent work in this case, Robin recieves a nine tenths cut.  The remainder to be equally divided amongst the town as Robin sees fit,” proclaimed the judge.

      “Now here,” said Robin,” the problem here was greed.  And we won’t have any more greed here.  So I have agreed to sell the stones from the mill, and the timber from the mill, to Prince John, who is building a new castle.  Waggons will be here tomorrow.  Yes, yes, that is right, the mill will be no more.  This town will be free of greed, aren’t you happy?  And, my good people, each of you will receive a coupon for one quarter pound of flour from the mill just twenty miles up the road.  Farewell, little people, I’m off to collect my gold from Prince John.  What is that?  Bread will be expensive now?  Why that beast of a Baker, he will be next!  This greed will be conquered!”

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