" Another said, "It is a noble hare; let her alone;
she will not keep the highway for fear of the dogs."
The well-worn "Joe Miller" of the Irishman who tried to count the party
to which he belonged, and always forgot to count himself, which is also
known in Russia and in the West Highlands of Scotland, is simply a
variant of this drollery:
On a certain day there were twelve men of Gotham that went to fish, and
some stood on dry land; and in going home one said to the other, "We
have ventured wonderfully in wading: I pray God that none of us come
home and be drowned." "Nay, marry," said one to the other, "let us see
that; for there did twelve of us come out." Then they told (i.e.,
counted) themselves, and every one told eleven. Said one to the other,
"There is one of us drowned." They went back to the brook where they had
been fishing, and sought up and down for him that was wanting, making
great lamentation. A courtier, coming by, asked what it was they sought
for, and why they were sorrowful. "Oh," said they, "this day we went to
fish in the brook; twelve of us came out together, and one is drowned."
Said the courtier, "Tell [count] how many there be of you." One of them
said, "Eleven," and he did not tell himself. "Well," said the courtier,
"what will you give me, and I will find the twelfth man?" "Sir," said
they, "all the money we have got.
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