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.
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