I shall merely relate the last.
"A melancholy gentleman, who lived a very solitary life, had a large carp in a shady pond in a meadow close to his house; he was exceedingly fond of it, and used to feed it with his own hand, the creature being so tame that it would put its snout out of the water to be fed when it was whistled to; feeding and looking at his carp were the only pleasures the poor melancholy gentleman possessed.

Old Fulcher--being in the neighbourhood, and having an order from a fishmonger for a large fish, which was wanted at a great city dinner, at which His Majesty was to be present--swore he would steal the carp, and asked me to go with him.

I had heard of the gentleman's fondness for his creature, and begged him to let it be, advising him to go and steal some other fish; but old Fulcher swore, and said he would have the carp, although its master should hang himself; I told him he might go by himself, but he took his son and stole the carp, which weighed seventeen pounds.

Old Fulcher got thirty shillings for the carp, which I afterwards heard was much admired and relished by His Majesty.

The master, however, of the carp, on losing his favourite, became more melancholy than ever, and in a little time hanged himself.