The Highwayman and the Waggoner.
One day, towards nightfall, a Highwayman was lying in wait for booty in a thicket, at a little distance from a road. And as a hungry bear looks out from its den, so did he gaze gloomily into the distance.
Presently he sees a lumbering waggon come rolling on like a wave.
"Ah!" whispers our Highwayman. "Laden, no doubt, with goods for the fair: nothing but cloth, and damask, and brocade, to a certainty. Don't stand gaping at it: there you 'll get wherewithal to live. Ah! this day will not be lost for me!"
Meanwhile the waggon arrives. "Stop!" cries the robber, and flings himself upon the driver, cudgel in hand. But, unluckily for him, it was no mere lubberly lad he had to do with. The Waggoner was a strapping youth, who confronted the malefactor with a big stick, and defended his goods like a mountain.
Our hero was obliged to fight hard for his prey. The battle was long and fierce. The robber lost a dozen teeth, and had an arm smashed and an eye knocked out. But, in spite of all this, he remained the victor.
The malefactor killed the Waggoner—killed him, and rushed upon the spoil. What did he get? A whole waggonload of bladders!
