There was a man of Gotham who went to the market of Nottingham to sell
cheese, and, as he was going down the hill to Nottingham bridge, one of
his cheese fell out of his wallet, and ran down the hill.
“What!” said the fellow, “can you run to the market alone? I will now
send one after the other.”
Then laying down the wallet, and taking out the cheese, he tumbled them
down the hill, one after the other, and some ran into one bush and some
into another, so at last he said—
“I do charge you to meet me in the market–place.”
And when the man came into the market to meet the cheese, he stayed
until the market was almost done, then went and inquired of his
neighbours and other men if they did see his cheese come to market.
“Why, who should bring them?” said one of his neighbours.
“Marry, themselves!” said the fellow. “They knew the way well enough,”
said he. “A vengeance on them, for I was afraid, to see my cheese run
so fast, that they would run beyond the market. I am persuaded that
they are by this time almost at York.”
So he immediately takes a horse, and rides after them to York, but was
very much disappointed.
But to this day no man has ever heard of the cheese.