When the priest and the provost and the mayor heard this, they nudged one another with their elbows and winked with one eye. They knew how much of that cheese to swallow. They would just take a look at this wonderful pit, for they thought that the money was hidden in the bushes for sure and certain. So off they went as fast as they could lay foot to the ground.
“Just you stay here,” said the priest to the others, “while I go and see whether there really is a pit as he said.” For he thought to himself that he would go and gather a pocketful of the money before it would be share and share with his comrades. So, into the thicket he jumped, and—plump!—he fell into the great, deep pit; and there was an end of number one.
By and by the others grew tired of tarrying. “I’ll go and see what he is waiting for,” says the provost. For he thought to himself, “He is filling his pockets, and I might as well have my share.” So, into the thicket he jumped, and—plump!—he fell into the great, deep pit; and there was an end of number two.
As for the mayor, he waited and waited. “What a fool am I,” said he at last, “to sit here twiddling my thumbs while the two rogues yonder are filling their pockets without me. It is little or nothing but the scraps and the bones that I will come in for.”
So the upshot of the matter was that he too ran and jumped into the thicket, and heels over head into the great, deep pit, and there was an end of number three. And if Master Jacob ever helped them out, you may depend upon it that he made them promise to behave themselves in time to come.
And this is true that I tell you: it would have been cheaper for them to have bought their pork in the first place, for, as it was, they paid a pretty penny for it.
As for Master Jacob and his good wife, they had a hundred dollars in good hard money, and if they did not get along in the world with that, why I, for one, want nothing more to do with them.
