8
But the old man was crafty and cunning,
As, I wot, in the world there be many,
Pitched his saddle clean over the hedge,
Saying, "Fetch'n if thou would'st have any,"
Singing, Too-ra-la-loo-ra-loo.
9
Then the thief being thirsty for gold,
And eager to get at his bags,
He dra'ed out his rusty old sword,
And chopped up the saddle to rags.
10
The old man slipped off his old mare,
And mounted the thief's horse astride,
Clapp'd spur, and put him in a gallop,
Saying "I, without teaching, can ride."
11
When he to his landlord's had come,
That old man was almost a-spent,
Says he, "Landlord, provide me a room.
I be come for to pay up my rent."
12
He opened the thief, his portmantle
And there was a sight to behold,
There were five hundred pounds in silver,
And five hundred pounds in gold.