ROBIN HOOD ur first letter is to Robin Hood, who has taken up residence in our enchanted forest, just behind the permanent rainbow. He no longer robs from the rich to give to the poor, as no one has need of money in the Fairy Tale Kingdom, so he has become an archery instructor. In addition, he runs a treetop adventure center with his life partner, Maid Marion. Dear Mr. Hood, My brother gets more pocket money than me. I don't want to give the exact figures, because my parents say it's vulgar to talk about money (which makes them pretty vulgar, if you ask me, because that is ALL they talk about) but it's more than five times what I get, which is a lot more times. They say it's because he's "almost an adult" and "about to go off to university" and that they can't give much anyway because they are not made of money, which do esn't make sense because who is? "I thought we were made of flesh and bone?" I said this one time, but they just told me not to talk back, while my brother just sat and smirked from his favorite chair that he defends with his life. Later that night he (my brother that is) said if I ever stole from him (he honestly said this) he would throw me into a volcano, and that is not how I want to die.

If I do have to die, I want to die from happiness after scoring the winning hat trick in the World Cup final. The point is, I know that my deadly brother keeps his money in a massive old biscuit tin beneath his bed. If I take it when he's asleep, simply to even out the unfairness in our pocket money, is it stealing? Should I become a thief like you? And would I need to wear tights? All best wishes from Satyajit (10 3/4) Dear Satyajit, Thank you for your letter. I would also not like to be thrown into a volcano. I'm glad you like football, though - I used to play when I was young! Is the ball still made from an inflated pig's bladder? I'm stalling because I'm struggling to answer your question. I can see why you might regard your situation as being similar to mine. Compared to your brother, you are poor. Were you to swipe that tin, you would be taking money from the rich (your brother) and giving to the poor (you).

The only difference is that when I took from the rich, I didn't keep any of the money, which is unusual in the normal scheme of thievery, which tends to be more focused on the topping up of personal funds. I find a good clue as to whether we are really being ethical - a fancy word for "fair" - is if we are thinking of someone else's interests as well as our own. Both you and your brother were given money by your parents. So, if you steal from your brother, you're also stealing from them. And, from what you say, they don't have too much to spare. Which would mean you were taking from the poor to give to the poor, which doesn't feel quite right, and is unlikely to pass into legend, let alone a rousing song. Let's be frank: It's not right to steal from the rich either, no matter how tempting it might be. What we (by which I mean me and the merry men - great lads btw) were doing was helping people in a land where the evil king was allowing his people to starve.

At that point, it's not so much stealing as fighting to survive. And while I like biscuits, stockpiling a stash for yourself might not be a matter of survival. I'd say leave the tin (and what's in it) where it is. Mrs. Hood sends her regards. Warmest, Robin Hood PS. We were not thieves: We were bandits. I would recommend tights though, it's chilly up in the trees.