On a certain time there were twelve men of Gotham who went fishing, and some went into the water and some on dry ground; and, as they were coming back, one of them said: “We have ventured much this day wading; I pray God that none of us that did come from home be drowned.”
“Marry,” said one, “let us see about that. Twelve of us came out,” and every man did count eleven, and the twelfth man did never count himself.
“Alas!” said one to another, “one of us is drowned.” They went back to the brook where they had been fishing, and looked up and down for him that was drowned, and made great lamentation. A courtier came riding by, and he did ask what they were seeking, and why they were so sorrowful. “Oh,” said they, “this day we came to fish in this brook, and there were twelve of us, and one is drowned.”
“Why,” said the courtier, “count me how many of you there be,” and one counted eleven and did not count himself. “Well,” said the courtier, “what will you give me if I find the twelfth man?”
“Sir,” said they, “all the money we have.”
“Give me the money,” said the courtier; and he began with the first, and gave him a whack over the shoulders that he groaned, and said, “There is one,” and he served all of them that they groaned; but when he came to the last he gave him a good blow, saying, “Here is the twelfth man.”
“God bless you on your heart,” said all the company; “you have found our neighbor.”
Henny-Penny
One day Henny-penny was picking up corn in the corn-yard when—whack!—something hit her upon the head.
“Goodness gracious me!” says Henny-penny; “the sky’s a-going to fall; I must go and tell the king.”