“Hold in,” said one; “beware lest my sheep leap over the bridge.”

“I care not,” said the other; “they shall not come this way.”

“But they shall,” said the other.

Then the other said:  “If that thou make much to do, I will put my fingers in thy mouth.”

“Will you?” said the other.

Now, as they were at their contention, another man of Gotham came from the market with a sack of meal upon a horse, and seeing and hearing his neighbours at strife about sheep, though there were none between them, said: 

“Ah, fools! will you ever learn wisdom?  Help me, and lay my sack upon my shoulders.”

They did so, and he went to the side of the bridge, unloosened the mouth of the sack, and shook all his meal out into the river.

“Now, neighbours,” he said, “how much meal is there in my sack?”

“Marry,” said they, “there is none at all.”

“Now, by my faith,” said he, “even as much wit as is in your two heads to stir up strife about a thing you have not.”

Which was the wisest of these three persons, judge yourself.

Of Hedging a Cuckoo

Once upon a time the men of Gotham would have kept the Cuckoo so that she might sing all the year, and in the midst of their town they made a hedge round in compass and they got a Cuckoo, and put her into it, and said, “Sing there all through the year, or thou shalt have neither meat nor water.”  The Cuckoo, as soon as she perceived herself within the hedge, flew away.  “A vengeance on her!” said they.  “We did not make our hedge high enough.”

Of Sending Cheeses

There was a man of Gotham who went to the market at Nottingham to sell cheese, and as he was going down the hill to Nottingham bridge, one of his cheeses fell out of his wallet and rolled down the hill.  “Ah, gaffer,” said the fellow, “can you run to market alone?  I will send one after another after you.”

Then he laid down his wallet and took out the cheeses, and rolled them down the hill.  Some went into one bush; and some went into another.

“I charge you all to meet me near the market-place;” and when the fellow came to the market to meet his cheeses, he stayed there till the market was nearly done.  Then he went about to inquire of his friends and neighbours, and other men, if they did see his cheeses come to the market.

“Who should bring them?” said one of the market men.

“Marry, themselves,” said the fellow; “they know the way well enough.”

He said, “A vengeance on them all.  I did fear, to see them run so fast, that they would run beyond the market.  I am now fully persuaded that they must be now almost at York.”  Whereupon he forthwith hired a horse to ride to York, to seek his cheeses where they were not, but to this day no man can tell him of his cheeses.

Of Drowning Eels

When Good Friday came, the men of Gotham cast their heads together what to do with their white herrings, their red herrings, their sprats, and other salt fish.  One consulted with the other, and agreed that such fish should be cast into their pond (which was in the middle of the town), that they might breed against the next year, and every man that had salt fish left cast them into the pool.