“What are you crying for, father?” said I. “Have you come to any hurt?” “Hurt enough,” sobbed the old man. “I have just been tricked out of the best ass in England by a villain, who gave me nothing but these trash in return,” pointing to the stones before him. “I really scarcely understand you,” said I; “I wish you would explain yourself more clearly.” “I was riding on my ass from market,” said the old man, “when I met here a fellow with a sack on his back, who, after staring at the ass and me a moment or two, asked me if I would sell her. I told him that I could not think of selling her, as she was very useful to me, and though an animal, my true companion, whom I loved as much as if she were my wife and daughter. I then attempted to pass on, but the fellow stood before me, begging me to sell her, saying that he would give me anything for her; well, seeing that he persisted, I said at last that if I sold her, I must have six pounds for her, and I said so to get rid of him, for I saw that he was a shabby fellow, who had probably not six shillings in the world; but I had better have held my tongue,” said the old man, crying more bitterly than before, “for the words were scarcely out of my mouth, when he said he would give me what I asked, and taking the sack from his back, he pulled out a steelyard, and going to the heap of stones there, he took up several of them and weighed them, then flinging them down before me, he said: ‘There are six pounds, neighbour; now, get off the ass, and hand her over to me’. Well, I sat like one dumbfoundered for a time, till at last I asked him what he meant? ‘What do I mean?’ said he, ‘you old rascal, why, I mean to claim my purchase,’ and then he swore so awfully, that scarcely knowing what I did I got down, and he jumped on the animal and rode off as fast as he could.” “I suppose he was the fellow,” said I, “whom I just now met upon a fine grey ass, which he was beating with a cudgel.” “I daresay he was,” said the old man; “I saw him beating her as he rode away, and I thought I should have died.” “I never heard such a story,” said I; “well, do you mean to submit to such a piece of roguery quietly?” “Oh, dear,” said the old man, “what can I do? I am seventy-nine years of age; I am bad on my feet, and dar’n’t go after him.” “Shall I go?” said I; “the fellow is a thief, and any one has a right to stop him.” “Oh, if you could but bring her again to me,” said the old man, “I would bless you to my dying day; but have a care; I don’t know but after all the law may say that she is his lawful purchase. I asked six pounds for her, and he gave me six pounds.” “Six flints, you mean,” said I; “no, no, the law is not quite so bad as that either; I know something about her, and am sure that she will never sanction such a quibble. At all events, I’ll ride after the fellow.” Thereupon turning the horse round, I put him to his very best trot; I