Hood

I've been looking for something for, oh, about thirty years. No, you read that right. Thirty years.

You see, a long, long time ago, there was a used book sale in my hometown. Since I was not much older then than the Neatnik is now, I do not remember all of the particulars in sharp detail but I clearly remember bringing home a huge box and a couple of paper grocery store bags overflowing with books and only leaving a lonely Lincoln in payment.

Picture me. All of about nine years old rooting around in a box of books, digging for buried treasure. And I struck gold in the form of two cloth-bound volumes, printed circa 1943: The Robe and Robin Hood. I read the covers off of both of those books, literally. I was luckier with The Robe: there were two copies. Alas, there was but one copy of Robin Hood.

I loved that book so much! I read it and reread it over and over so many times that I had whole chapters memorized. It is entirely possible that I devoted more hours to that book than to all of my required fourth grade schoolwork.

Don't tell Neatnik that last bit, okay? Our little secret? Cheers.

Eventually, the poor book wore out. Pages were missing, the front cover dangling by a few stray threads.

I tried to find it in the library and in the book stores. Every place I looked I found Pyle's version but that was not the one I had owned and I considered it a poor substitute for the "real thing".

Finally, today, decades later, I found the book. The author was Henry Gilbert. Some folks over on Library Thing scanned their covers and amidst them all I saw my cover.

It was like coming home after a long, weary journey.

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