It was, as it happened, a book about ghosts and apparitions; and the
cobbler's mind was soon so full of these marvels that he could talk of
nothing else, and hardly did a stroke of work for reading and
pondering over what he read. He could find none of his neighbours who
had seen a ghost, though most had heard of such things, and many
believed in them.

"Live and learn," thought the cobbler; "here is fame as well as
wealth. If I could but see a ghost there would be no more to desire."
And with this intent he sallied forth late one night to the
churchyard.

Meanwhile a thief (who had heard the jingle of his money-bag)
resolved to profit by the cobbler's whim; so wrapping himself in a
sheet, he laid wait for him in a field that he must cross to reach the
church.

When the cobbler saw the white figure, he made sure, that he had now
seen a ghost, and already felt proud of his own acquaintance, as a
remarkable character. Meanwhile, the thief stood quite still, and the
cobbler walked boldly up to him, expecting that the phantom would
either vanish or prove so impalpable that he could pass through it as
through a mist, of which he had read many notable instances in the
professor's book. He soon found out his mistake, however, for the
supposed ghost grappled him, and without loss of time relieved him of
his money-bag. The cobbler (who was not wanting in courage) fastened
as tightly on to the sheet, which he still held with desperate
firmness when the thief had slipped through his fingers; and after
waiting in vain for further marvels, he carried the sheet home to his
mother, and narrated his encounter with the ghost.