There were two knights in Great Park who thought they were Rangers. The people of the Kingdom called them Sir Bumpkin and Sir Pumpkin and tried to be understanding, but knights had long ago gone out of style.
Sir Bumpkin was long and thin and farsighted. He was always tripping on roots and bushes and stones because he cou1dn’t see the danger that was near. Sir Pumpkin was round and short and nearsighted. He was always getting stuck in tight situations, because he squinted to see the danger that was far off.
The two noisy knights always attended Ranger councils in the Ranger Lodge. At the end of each meeting, after all reports had been made and all tales had been told, the Ranger Commander would ask for the pledge to the King. He would shout, “How goes the world?”
And all would answer back, “The world goes not well! But the Kingdom comes!” Each Ranger, to a man and woman, raised his hatchet and vowed, “T0 the Kingdom and the King!” Then they marched from the lodge to take up watch or to go on patrol.
The two knights would shout these same cries. They would draw their swords from their scabbards. Then they would rush from the lodge with the others—and lead their horses to a large stone. Bumpkin, grunting and groaning, would push the heavy Pumpkin into his saddle. Then Pumpkin, in turn, would pull the gangly Bumpkin into his. Often, one would drop a sword or banner.
“Yoo-hoo! Yoo-hoo!” they would shout. “You over there! Would you mind getting my sword (or banner)?”
If no one seemed to be around, they yoo-hooed all the louder. When no one appeared, one of the knights would have to climb down, and then mount all over again.
By the time both knights were seated on their steeds, the Rangers would all be gone. The lights in the lodge would be dark, but Pumpkin would shout anyway, “Onward! Onward under the banner of the King!”