“Alas! alas!” he wailed; “truly one of us is drowned!”

Then every man counted, and each one failed to count himself.

“Alas! alas!” they all cried; “one of us is drowned!  Which one is it?”

They went back to the shore, and they looked up and down for him that was drowned.  All the time they were lamenting loudly.

A courtier came riding by.  “What are you seeking?” he asked, “and why are you so sorrowful?”

“Oh,” said they, “this day we came to fish in the stream.  There were twelve of us, but one is drowned.”

“Why,” said the courtier, “count yourselves and see how many there be.”

Again they counted, and again each man failed to count himself.

“Well, this is sad,” said the courtier, who saw how the mistake had been made.  “What will you give me if I find the twelfth man?”

“Sir,” cried all together, “you may have all the money we own.”

“Give me the money,” said the courtier.

Then he began to count.  He gave the first man a whack over the shoulders and said, “There is one.”

He gave the next a whack and said, “There is two.”  And so he counted until he came to the last man.  He gave this one a sounding blow, saying, “And here is the twelfth.”

“God bless you!” cried all the company.  “You have found our neighbor.”

—­OLD ENGLISH STORY.

THE MILLER’S GUEST

I

A hunter who had ridden ahead in the chase was lost.  The sun went down, and darkness fell upon the forest.  The hunter blew his horn, but no answer came.  What should he do?

At last he heard the sound of horse’s hoofs.  Some one was coming.  Was it friend or foe?  The hunter stood still, and soon a miller rode out into the moonlight.

“Pray, good fellow, be so kind as to tell me the way to Nottingham,” said the hunter.

“Nottingham?  Why should you be going to Nottingham?  The king and his court are there.  It is not a place for the like of you,” replied the miller.

“Well, well, perhaps you are right, good miller,” said the hunter.  “And yet who knows?  I’ll wager that the king is no better man than I am.  However, it is getting late, and lodging I must have.  Will you give me shelter for the night?”

“Nay, nay, not so fast,” said the miller.  “Stand forth and let me see if you are a true man.  Many thieves wear fine clothes these days.”

The hunter stepped forward.  “Well, and what do you think of me?” he asked gayly.  “Will you not give a stranger lodging?”

“How do I know that you have one penny in your purse?” asked the miller.  “You may carry your all on your back, for aught I know.  I’ve heard of lords who are like that.”

“True, good miller, but I have gold.  If it be forty pence, I will pay it,” said the hunter.