For what sayeth the old saw, Master Greenleaf?
Is it not 'The late fowl findeth but ill faring' ?" "Now, thou great purse of fat!" cried Little John, "I ask thee not for fool's wisdom, but for bread and meat.

Who art thou, that thou shouldst deny me to eat?
By Saint Dunstan, thou hadst best tell me where my breakfast is, if thou wouldst save broken bones!" "Thy breakfast, Master Fireblaze, is in the pantry," answered the Steward.
"Then fetch it hither!" cried Little John, who waxed angry by this time.
"Go thou and fetch it thine own self," quoth the Steward.

"Am I thy slave, to fetch and carry for thee ?" "I say, go thou, bring it me!" "I say, go thou, fetch it for thyself!" "Ay, marry, that will I, right quickly!" quoth Little John in a rage.
And, so saying, he strode to the pantry and tried to open the door but found it locked, whereat the Steward laughed and rattled his keys.

Then the wrath of Little John boiled over, and, lifting his clenched fist, he smote the pantry door, bursting out three panels and making so large an opening that he could easily stoop and walk through it.
When the Steward saw what was done, he waxed mad with rage; and, as Little John stooped to look within the pantry, he seized him from behind by the nape of the neck, pinching him sorely and smiting him over the head with his keys till the yeoman's ears rang again.

At this Little John turned upon the Steward and smote him such a buffet that the fat man fell to the floor and lay there as though he would never move again.
"There," quoth Little John, "think well of that stroke and never keep a good breakfast from a hungry man again." So saying, he crept into the pantry and looked about him to see if he could find something to appease his hunger.