The Three Men of Gotham on Nottingham Bridge.

You, of course, know that the good people of Gotham have been particularly noted for their wisdom; but if, by chance, this should not form one of the items of your varied knowledge, the stories I am about to relate will leave no doubt on your minds as to the justice of the report.

Whether it may be something in the air that has made these people so peculiarly gifted I cannot tell, for I must confess that I have never been at Gotham, and know absolutely nothing of the geological properties of the soil, or indeed of the neighbourhood in any way, excepting that Nottingham is the principal city of that part of the country.

You probably know, as well as I can tell you, what Nottingham is noted for, so I will say nothing about it, particularly as what I might and could say would in no way help us in clearing up the mystery, namely, why the inhabitants of one particular place should be mentally gifted beyond others. If, indeed, we were considering Nottingham itself I might attempt some sort of an explanation, by telling you that a great part of the business of the town being shoemaking would perhaps account for a contemplative turn of its citizens, for shoemakers are supposed to be men of deep thought. Why this should be so is another mystery requiring to be cleared up, which I will leave to others to do, and only just remark, that there can be no doubt several cases of men of thought and talent among that class might be cited. I will only mention the German shoemaker, of whom perhaps you have heard, who wrote up over his shop,—

That’s not bad, particularly for a German.

But to return to Gotham, with which a consideration of Nottingham has nothing to do. We all know particular individuals who are shining stars, and even families of stars we know, but still that does not tell us how and why there should be a whole community of such extraordinary lights. We have confessed our inability to explain this in the case of Gotham, and therefore let us take a liberal view of the matter, and suppose that from generation to generation the children inherited from their parents such a happy development of brain, that it was utterly impossible they could be anything but wise. It might be worth a phrenologist’s while to go down there. But mind, I am only speaking of what the people of Gotham were, for, as I said, I know, personally, nothing of the place, and at the present day all may be materially altered.

I cannot tell you exactly when it happened, but on a certain day, in a certain year, two men of Gotham met on Nottingham bridge. “Well met, Neighbour,” said the one man, “whither are you going?” “I have just come from the market at Nottingham, and am going home to fetch my wife and child, whom I forgot,” was the answer; “and pray where are you going, Neighbour?”

“I’m going to the market at Nottingham to buy sheep,” said the first man.

“And which way do you intend to bring the sheep home?” asked the man who had come from Nottingham.

“Over this bridge,” answered he who was going thither.

“But you cannot,” said the one.

“But I must,” said the other.

“But you shall not, Neighbour,” said the man who was on his way home to fetch his wife and child.

“And why shall I not, Neighbour?” asked he who was going to Nottingham to buy sheep.

“You see,” said the one, “that there is not room for my wife and child to pass, so keep them back, Man.”

“I care not,” said the other, “my sheep shall pass, so let your wife and child stand back.”

“They shall not pass.”

“But they shall pass.”

“Woo! Woo! back there,” shouted the one man, spreading out his arms and legs, as is done to keep sheep back.

“Woo! Woo! get on there,” shouted the other, flourishing his stick, and striking the ground first on one side and then on the other.

“Take care, or you will drive them over my wife. But if she is hurt you shall pay the doctor’s bill.”

“I will not pay the doctor’s bill. But you take care, for if you make my sheep jump over the side of the bridge and they are drowned you shall pay for them.”

“I will not pay for them.”

“But you must pay for them.”

Whilst this dispute was going on another man of Gotham had ridden up, with a sack of meal behind him on his donkey, and hearing the quarrel between his neighbours about the one’s wife, whom he had just seen safe at home, and about the other’s sheep, when there were no sheep there, he got off his donkey and called to the two disputants to lift the sack of meal upon his shoulders. When they had done so, first untying the mouth of the sack, he emptied the meal over the side of the bridge into the river. Then, holding up the sack with the mouth down, before his astonished neighbours, he said,—

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“Will you tell me how much meal there is in this sack?”

“Why, none,” both said, “since you have just emptied it out.”

“Well,” he answered, “just so much wit is in your two heads when you dispute about wife and sheep, and neither wife nor sheep are here.”

Now which was the wisest of the three?