Swaffham

Sorseton, Horsford, and Copdock.

Um, and potentially Swaffham's not out of it, depending on how things go.

But, uh, they've got, uh, three games to go in, in East Anglia.

Um-

The Fir Tree Fairy Book by Clifton Johnson.

The Peddler of Swaffham.

In the old days, when London Bridge was lined with shops from one end to the other, and salmon swam under the arches, there lived in the town of Swaffham, about a hundred miles northward from London, a poor peddler.

He had much ado to make a living, trudging about with his pack on his back and his dog at his heels, and at the close of each day's labor he was only too glad to lie down and sleep.

It so happened one night that he dreamed a dream, and in the dream he saw the great bridge of London Town, and a voice seemed to tell him that if he went thither he would have joyful news.

Right heartily did the shopkeeper laugh.

Ah, said he, you must be a fool to go on a journey with no better excuse than that.

I must tell you, my poor silly country fellow, that I also dream at night, and thrice recently have I dreamed that I was in Swaffham, a place I never have even been near in my life, and I thought I was in a field behind a peddler's house, and in the field was a great oak tree, and a voice seemed to tell me that if I dug beneath that tree I would find a rich treasure.