The Drop of Honey

The king and his prime minister were eating outside on the palace balcony one day. "Be so kind as to pass the honey," said the king to his prime minister.
"Of course, Your Majesty," replied the prime minister.
As the king reached out to take the honey, something happened: did the king's hand tremble? or the prime minister's? However it happened, it happened: a single drop of honey fell down to the ground below.
A fly buzzed by and landed on the honey, gobbling it up.
Then a spider scurried up and gobbled the fly.
Next, a lizard darted forward and gobbled the spider.
A cat saw the lizard and ran to grab it, but a dog, also seeing the lizard, intercepted her.
The cat and the dog began fighting.
Hearing the cat yowling and the dog barking, the owner of the cat and the owner of the dog ran out into the street, and they began fighting.
Then the relatives of the owner of the cat and the relatives of the owner of the dog joined the fray.
Then their friends and neighbors.
As the riot spread from street to street, the prime minister advised the king, "You must send out the palace guards to quell this violence, Your Majesty."
But it turned out that some of the palace guards were allied to the cat faction while others were allied to the dog faction, and so the fighting grew even worse.
The conflict spread to the suburbs of the capital.
Then civil war raged throughout the kingdom.
Rival kings to the north, south, east, and west seized the opportunity; they invaded from all directions and divided the kingdom amongst themselves.
And that is how a kingdom was lost, all because of a drop of honey. 



Inspired by: "A Kingdom Lost for a Drop of Honey" in A kingdom lost for a drop of honey and other Burmese folktales by Maung Htin Aung and Helen G. Trager, 1968.
Notes: You can read the original story online. I also did my own 100-word version of the story too!

The illustrations by Paw Oo Thet are marvelous!




Anansi and the Pea

Anansi found a pea lying in the road. Just one little pea. 
"I wish I had more," said Anansi sadly, but he planted his pea, and then he waited to see what would happen.
The pea-plant grew and grew.
Then one day Goat wandered by, and he ate Anansi's pea-plant.
"Hey!" shouted Anansi. "That was my pea-plant. You must give me something in exchange."
"Okay," said Goat, and he gave Anansi one of his horns.
Anansi took the horn down to the river to wash it, but the River grabbed the horn and took it away from Anansi.
"Hey!" shouted Anansi. "That was my horn. You must give me something in exchange."
"Okay," said River, and she gave Anansi a fish.
Walking home, Anansi met a woman. "I'm hungry!" the woman said, and she grabbed Anansi's fish.
"Hey!" shouted Anansi. "That was my fish. You must give me something in exchange."
"Okay," said the woman, and she gave Anansi a shirt.
Next, Anansi met a little boy who had no clothes on. "I need clothes!" he said, and he grabbed Anansi's shirt.
"Hey!" shouted Anansi. "That was my shirt. You must give me something in exchange."
"Okay," said the boy, and he gave Anansi his whip.
Then Anansi met a cowherd. "I need that whip to herd my cows!" said the cowherd, and he grabbed Anansi's whip.
"Hey!" shouted Anansi. "That was my whip. I want something in exchange. Give me one of your cows!"
So the cowherd gave Anansi one of his cows.
From the cow, Anansi got milk, and from the milk Anansi got cheese.
Anansi sold the cheese and bought more cows.
Soon Anansi had a herd of cows all his own.
And he started with just one pea!



Inspired by: "The Pea That Made a Fortune" in Anansi and Company: Retold Jamaican Tales by Bish Denham, 2013.
Notes: You can read a very short version of the story here: Anansi and the Pea.



Baboon's Foolish Judgment

Someone had chewed the tailor's clothes.
The tailor thought Mouse looked guilty. "Did you chew my clothes, Mouse?" asked the angry tailor.
"I did not!" protested Mouse. "Cat is the guilty one."
Cat blamed Dog, Dog blamed Wood, Wood blamed Fire, who blamed Water, who blamed Elephant, who blamed Ant. 
The tailor wasn't sure what to do, so he went to Baboon. "Someone has chewed my clothes! I blamed Mouse, but Mouse blamed Cat who blamed Dog who blamed Wood who blamed Fire, and Fire blamed Water, Water blamed Elephant, and Elephant blamed Ant. You, Baboon, must be the judge. Summon all the suspects here and find the criminal. I demand satisfaction!"
Baboon called all the suspects to come to court for the trial. 
After hearing all the evidence, Baboon didn't know which suspect to punish, so he decided that they should all punish each other.
"Cat, bite Mouse!" Baboon shouted.
Cat bit Mouse, and then Baboon shouted, "Dog, chase Cat!" 
Dog chased Cat, and then Baboon shouted, "Wood, beat Dog!" 
Wood beat Dog, and then Baboon shouted, "Fire, burn Wood!" 
Fire burnt Wood, and then Baboon shouted, "Water, extinguish Fire!" 
Water extinguished Fire, and then Baboon shouted,  "Elephant, drink Water!" Elephant drank Water, and then Baboon shouted, "Ant, sting Elephant!" 
Ant stung Elephant.
There was no one left to shout at, so Baboon squashed Ant under his foot.
Then he turned to the tailor and asked. "Are you satisfied now?"
"I suppose so," said tailor. "You've punished every single suspect, so, yes: I'm satisfied."
But there's been trouble ever since Baboon's foolish judgment: Ant keeps stinging Elephant, Elephant keeps drinking Water, Water keeps extinguishing Fire, Fire keeps burning Wood, Wood keeps beating Dog, Dog keeps chasing Cat, and Cat keeps biting Mouse... and everybody keeps squashing Ant.
As for Baboon, he used to walk on two legs like a person, but now he walks on four legs like the other animals, all because of his foolish judgment.



Inspired by: "The Judgment of the Baboon" in Reynard the fox in South Africa; or, Hottentot fables and tales by Wilhelm Bleek, 1864.
Notes: You can read the original story online. Bleek got the story from the missionary J. G. Kroenlein, who recorded it in Namaqualand in southern Africa; more about Kroenlein at Wikipedia. I expanded on the story to bring out the chain of accusations in detail, and I added the part about squashing Ant; that was not part of the original chain. The story said they were going to "punish each other," so I figured someone needed to punish Ant too.

November 10. Story of the Day: The Kitul Seeds

From Village Folk-Tales of Ceylon by H. Parker, volume 1, 26. You can read about Kitul (Kithul) plants at Wikipedia.

This is ATU 1430 Air Castles.

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THE KITUL SEEDS

A certain  man and his son, who was a grown-up youth, were walking along a path one day, when they came to a place where many seeds had fallen from a Kitul Palm tree.


The man drew his son's attention to them, and said, "We must gather these Kitul seeds, and plant them. When the plants from them grow up we shall have a large number of Kitul trees, from which we will take the toddy (juice), and make jaggery (a kind of brown sugar). By selling this we shall make money, which we will save till we shall have enough to buy a nice pony."

"Yes," said the boy, " and I will jump on his back like this, and ride him," and as he said it he gave a bound.

"What!" said the father, " would you break my pony's back like that!" and so saying, he gave him a blow on the side of the head which knocked him down senseless.


NOTES

E. G. Goonewardene, Esquite. North-western Province.

There is another story of this type in the tale No. 53, below.

In the Jataka story No. 4 (vol. i, p. 19), there is a tale of a young man who acquired a fortune and became Lord Treasurer by means of a dead mouse which he picked up and sold for a farthing, subsequently increasing his money by careful investments.

In the Katha Sarit Sagara, vol. i, p. 33, a nearly identical mouse story is given.

In Indian Fairy Tales (Stokes), p. 31, there is a different one. A man who was to receive four pice for carrying a jar of ghi, settled that he would buy a hen with the money, sell her eggs, get a goat, and then a cow, the milk of which he would sell. Afterwards he would marry a wife, and when they had children he would refuse some cooked rice which they would offer him. At this point he shook his head as he refused it, and the jar fell and was broken.

In Indian Nights' Entertainment (Swynnerton), p. 23, a man who was carrying a jar of butter on his head, and who expected to get three halfpence for the job, was going to buy a hen, then a sheep, a cow, a milch buffalo, and a mare, and then to get married. As he patted his future children on the head the pot fell and was broken.

In The Arabian Nights (Lady Burton's ed., i, p. 296) there is a well-known variant in which the fortune was to be made out of a tray of glass-ware.

November 9. Story of the Day: Bedbug.

This song comes from Negro Folk Rhymes by Thomas Talley.

It's a fun list of bugs, not exactly a chain tale, but definitely a fun list!

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BEDBUG

De June-bug's got de golden wing,
De Lightning-bug de flame;
De Bedbug's got no wing at all,
But he gits dar jes de same.

De Punkin-bug's got a punkin smell,
De Squash-bug smells de wust;
But de puffume of dat ole Bedbug,
It's enough to make you bust.

Wen dat Bedbug come down to my house,
I wants my walkin' cane.
Go git a pot an' scald 'im hot!
Good-by, Miss Lize Jane!



November 8. Story of the Day: The Cat and the Mouse

This story comes from Italian Popular Tales by Thomas Frederick Crane.

This is classified as ATU 2023. Little Ant Marries.

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THE CAT AND THE MOUSE




Once upon a time there was a cat that wanted to get married. So she stood on a corner, and every one who passed by said: "Little Cat, what's the matter?"

"What's the matter? I want to marry."

A dog passed by and said: "Do you want me?"

"When I see how you can sing."

The dog said: "Bow, wow!"

"Fy! What horrid singing! I don't want you."

A pig passed. "Do you want me, Little Cat?"

"When I see how you sing."

"Uh! uh!"

"Fy! You are horrid! Go away! I don't want you."

A calf passed and said: "Little Cat, will you take me?"

"When I see how you sing."

"Uhm!"

"Go away, for you are horrid! What do you want of me?"

A mouse passed by: "Little Cat, what are you doing?"

"I am going to get married."

"Will you take me?"

"And how can you sing?"

"Ziu, ziu!"

The cat accepted him, and said: "Let us go and be married, for you please me." So they were married.

One day the cat went to buy some pastry, and left the mouse at home. "Don't stir out, for I am going to buy some pastry."

The mouse went into the kitchen, saw the pot on the fire, and crept into it, for he wanted to eat the beans. But he did not; for the pot began to boil, and the mouse stayed there.

The cat came back and began to cry; but the mouse did not appear. So the cat put the pastry in the pot for dinner.

When it was ready, the cat ate and put some on a plate for the mouse, also. When she took out the pastry she saw the mouse stuck fast in it.

"Ah! my little mouse! ah! my little mouse!" so she went and sat behind the door, lamenting the mouse.

"What is the matter," said the door, "that you are scratching yourself so and tearing out your hair?"

The cat said: "What is the matter? My mouse is dead, and so I tear my hair."

The door answered: "And I, as door, will slam."

In the door was a window, which said: "What's the matter, door, that you are slamming?"

"The mouse died, the cat is tearing her hair, and I am slamming."

The window answered: "And I, as window, will open and shut."

In the window was a tree, that said: "Window, why do you open and shut?"

The window answered: "The mouse died, the cat tears her hair, the door slams, and I open and shut."

The tree answered and said: "And I, as tree, will throw myself down."

A bird happened to alight in this tree, and said: "Tree, why did you throw yourself down?"

 The tree replied: "The mouse died, the cat tears her hair, the door slams, the window opens and shuts, and I, as tree, threw myself down."

"And I, as bird, will pull out my feathers."

The bird went and alighted on a fountain, which said: "Bird, why are you plucking out your feathers so?"

The bird answered as the others had done, and the fountain said: "And I, as fountain, will dry up."

A cuckoo went to drink at the fountain, and asked: "Fountain, why have you dried up?"

And the fountain told him all that had happened. "And I, as cuckoo, will put my tail in the fire."

A monk of St. Nicholas passed by, and said: "Cuckoo, why is your tail in the fire?" When the monk heard the answer he said: "And I, as monk of St. Nicholas, will go and say mass without my robes."

Then came the queen, who, when she heard what the matter was, said: "And I, as queen, will go and sift the meal."

At last the king came by, and asked: "O Queen! why are you sifting the meal?"

When the queen had told him everything, he said: "And I, as king, am going to take my coffee."


NOTES

Sicily (Pitrè, No. 134).

And thus the story abruptly ends. In one of Pitrè's variants a sausage takes the place of the mouse; in another, a tortoise.

In the version from Pomigliano d'Arco (Imbriani, p. 244), an old woman, who finds a coin in sweeping a church, hesitates in regard to what she will spend it for, as in the stories above mentioned. She finally concludes to buy some paint for her face. After she has put it on, she stations herself at the window. A donkey passes, and asks what she wants. She answers that she wishes to marry. "Will you take me?" asks the donkey. "Let me hear what kind of a voice you have." "Ingò! Ingò! Ingò!" "Away! away! you would frighten me in the night!" Then a goat comes along, with the same result. Then follows a cat, and all the animals in the world; but none pleases the old woman. At last a little mouse passes by, and says: "Old Aunt, what are you doing there?" "I want to marry." "Will you take me?" "Let me hear your voice." "Zivuzì! zivuzì! zivuzì! zivuzì!" "Come up, for you please me." So the mouse went up to the old woman, and stayed with her. One day the old woman went to mass, and left the pot near the fire and told the mouse to be careful not to fall in it. When she came home she could not find the mouse anywhere. At last she went to take the soup from the pot, and there she found the mouse dead. She began to lament, and the ashes on the hearth began to scatter, and the window asked what was the matter. The ashes answered: "Ah! you know nothing. Friend Mouse is in the pot; the old woman is weeping, weeping; and I, the ashes, have wished to scatter." Then the window opens and shuts, the stairs fall down, the bird plucks out its feathers, the laurel shakes off its leaves, the servant girl who goes to the well breaks her pitcher, the mistress who was making bread throws the flour over the balcony, and finally the master comes home, and after he hears the story, exclaims: "And I, who am master, will break the bones of both of you!" And therewith he takes a stick and gives the servant and her mistress a sound beating. [In addition to the versions mentioned in the text, Imbriani (Pomiglianesi, pp. 250, 252) gives two versions from Lecco.]

There is a curious class of versions of the above story, in which the principal actors are a mouse and a sausage, reminding one of the Grimm story of "The Little Mouse, the Little Bird, and the Sausage." In the Venetian version (Bernoni, Punt. III. p. 81), the beginning is as follows: Once upon a time there was a mouse and a sausage, and one day the mouse said to the sausage: "I am going to mass; meanwhile get ready the dinner." "Yes, yes," answered the sausage. Then the mouse went to mass, and when he returned he found everything ready. The next day the sausage went to mass and the mouse prepared the dinner. He put on the pot, threw in the rice, and then went to taste if it was well salted. But he fell in and died. The sausage returned home, knocked at the door,—for there was no bell,—and no one answered. She called: "Mouse! mouse!" But he does not answer. Then the sausage went to a smith and had the door broken in, and called again: "Mouse, where are you?" And the mouse did not answer. "Now I will pour out the rice, and meanwhile he will come." So she went and poured out the rice, and found the mouse dead in the pot. "Ah! poor mouse! Oh! my mouse! What shall I do now? Oh! poor me!" And she began to utter a loud lamentation. Then the table began to go around the room, the sideboard to throw down the plates, the door to lock and unlock itself, the fountain to dry up, the mistress to drag herself along the ground, and the master threw himself from the balcony and broke his neck. "And all this arose from the death of this mouse."

The version from the Marches (Gianandrea, p. 11) resembles the above very closely; the conclusion is as follows: "The mouse, the master of this castle, is dead; the sausage weeps, the broom sweeps, the door opens and shuts, the cart runs, the tree throws off its leaves, the bird plucks out its feathers, the servant breaks her pitcher," etc.

The version from Milan (Nov. fior. p. 552) resembles the one from Venice. Instead of the mouse and the sausage we have the big mouse and the little mouse. In the version from Leghorn (Papanti, p. 19) called "Vezzino and Lady Sausage," [Vezzino e Madonna Salciccia. Vezzino is the dim. of vezzo, delight, pastime] the actors are Lady Sausage and her son Vezzino, who falls into the pot on the fire while his mother is at mass. The rest of the story does not differ materially from the above versions.


November 7. Story of the Day: Stupid's Cries

This story comes from More English Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs.

It is an example of ATU Tale Type 1696.

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STUPID'S CRIES

THERE was once a little boy, and his mother sent him to buy a sheep's head and pluck; afraid he should forget it, the lad kept saying all the way along:

'Sheep's head and pluck!
Sheep's head and pluck!'

Trudging alone, he came to a stile; but in getting over he fell and hurt himself, and beginning to blubber, forgot what he was sent for. So he stood a little while to consider; at last he thought he recollected it, and began to repeat:

'Liver and lights and gall and all!
Liver and lights and gall and all!'

Away he went again, and came to where a man had a pain in his liver, bawling out:

'Liver and lights and gall and all!
Liver and lights and gall and all!'

Whereon the man laid hold of him and beat him, bidding him say:

'Pray God send no more!
Pray God send no more!'

The youngster strode along, uttering these words, till he reached a field where a hind was sowing wheat:

'Pray God send no more!
Pray God send no more!'

This was all his cry. So the sower began to thrash him, and charged him to repeat:

'Pray God send plenty more!
Pray God send plenty more!'

Off the child scampered with these words in his mouth till he reached a churchyard and met a funeral, but he went on with his:

'Pray God send plenty more!
Pray God send plenty more!'

The chief mourner seized and punished him, and bade him repeat:

'Pray God send the soul to heaven!
Pray God send the soul to heaven!'

Away went the boy, and met a dog and a cat going to be hung, but his cry rang out:

'Pray God send the soul to heaven!
Pray God send the soul to heaven!'

The good folk nearby were furious, seized and struck him, charging him to say:

'A dog and a cat agoing to be hung!
A dog and a cat agoing to be hung!'

This the poor fellow did, till he overtook a man and a woman going to be married. 'Oh, oh!' he shouted:

'A dog and a cat agoing to be hung!
A dog and a cat agoing to be hung!'

The man was enraged, as we may well think, gave him many a thump, and ordered him to repeat:

'I wish you much joy!
I wish you much joy!'

This he did, jogging along, till he came to two labourers who had fallen into a ditch. The lad kept bawling out:

'I wish you much joy!
I wish you much joy!'

This vexed one of the folk so sorely that he used all his strength, scrambled out, beat the crier, and told him to say:

'The one is out, I wish the other was!
The one is out, I wish the other was!'

On went young 'un till he found a fellow with only one eye; but he kept up his song:

'The one is out, I wish the other was!
The one is out, I wish the other was!'

This was too much for Master One-eye, who grabbed him and chastised him, bidding him call:

'The one side gives good light, I wish the other did!
The one side gives good light, I wish the other did!'

So he did, to be sure, till he came to a house, one side of which was on fire. The people here thought it was he who had set the place a-blazing, and straightway put him in prison. The end was, the judge put on his black cap, and condemned him to die.

November 6. Story of the Day: Bremen Town-Musicians

From Household Tales by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, translated by Margaret Hunt.

This is ATU 130 Bremen Town Musicians. With the accumulation of helpers, it also resembles ATU 210 Rooster, Hen, Duck, Pin, and Needle.

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BREMEN TOWN-MUSICIANS


A certain man had a donkey, which had carried the corn-sacks to the mill indefatigably for many a long year; but his strength was going, and he was growing more and more unfit for work. Then his master began to consider how he might best save his keep; but the donkey, seeing that no good wind was blowing, ran away and set out on the road to Bremen. "There," he thought, "I can surely be town-musician." When he had walked some distance, he found a hound lying on the road, gasping like one who had run till he was tired. "What are you gasping so for, you big fellow?" asked the donkey.

"Ah," replied the hound, "as I am old, and daily grow weaker, and no longer can hunt, my master wanted to kill me, so I took to flight; but now how am I to earn my bread?"

"I tell you what," said the donkey, "I am going to Bremen, and shall be town-musician there; go with me and engage yourself also as a musician. I will play the lute, and you shall beat the kettledrum."

The hound agreed, and on they went.

Before long they came to a cat, sitting on the path, with a face like three rainy days! "Now then, old shaver, what has gone askew with you?" asked the donkey.

"Who can be merry when his neck is in danger?" answered the cat. "Because I am now getting old, and my teeth are worn to stumps, and I prefer to sit by the fire and spin, rather than hunt about after mice, my mistress wanted to drown me, so I ran away. But now good advice is scarce. Where am I to go?"

"Go with us to Bremen. You understand night-music, you can be a town-musician."

The cat thought well of it, and went with them. After this the three fugitives came to a farm-yard, where the cock was sitting upon the gate, crowing with all his might. "Your crow goes through and through one," said the donkey. "What is the matter?"

"I have been foretelling fine weather, because it is the day on which Our Lady washes the Christ-child's little shirts, and wants to dry them," said the cock; "but guests are coming for Sunday, so the housewife has no pity, and has told the cook that she intends to eat me in the soup to-morrow, and this evening I am to have my head cut off. Now I am crowing at full pitch while I can."

"Ah, but red-comb," said the donkey, "you had better come away with us. We are going to Bremen; you can find something better than death everywhere: you have a good voice, and if we make music together it must have some quality!"

The cock agreed to this plan, and all four went on together. They could not, however, reach the city of Bremen in one day, and in the evening they came to a forest where they meant to pass the night. The donkey and the hound laid themselves down under a large tree, the cat and the cock settled themselves in the branches; but the cock flew right to the top, where he was most safe. Before he went to sleep he looked round on all four sides, and thought he saw in the distance a little spark burning; so he called out to his companions that there must be a house not far off, for he saw a light. The donkey said, "If so, we had better get up and go on, for the shelter here is bad." The hound thought that a few bones with some meat on would do him good too!

So they made their way to the place where the light was, and soon saw it shine brighter and grow larger, until they came to a well-lighted robber's house. The donkey, as the biggest, went to the window and looked in.

"What do you see, my grey-horse?" asked the cock. "What do I see?" answered the donkey; "a table covered with good things to eat and drink, and robbers sitting at it enjoying themselves."

"That would be the sort of thing for us," said the cock. "Yes, yes; ah, how I wish we were there!" said the donkey.

Then the animals took counsel together how they should manage to drive away the robbers, and at last they thought of a plan. The donkey was to place himself with his fore-feet upon the window-ledge, the hound was to jump on the donkey's back, the cat was to climb upon the dog, and lastly the cock was to fly up and perch upon the head of the cat.

When this was done, at a given signal, they began to perform their music together: the donkey brayed, the hound barked, the cat mewed, and the cock crowed; then they burst through the window into the room, so that the glass clattered! At this horrible din, the robbers sprang up, thinking no otherwise than that a ghost had come in, and fled in a great fright out into the forest. The four companions now sat down at the table, well content with what was left, and ate as if they were going to fast for a month.

As soon as the four minstrels had done, they put out the light, and each sought for himself a sleeping-place according to his nature and to what suited him. The donkey laid himself down upon some straw in the yard, the hound behind the door, the cat upon the hearth near the warm ashes, and the cock perched himself upon a beam of the roof; and being tired from their long walk, they soon went to sleep.

When it was past midnight, and the robbers saw from afar that the light was no longer burning in their house, and all appeared quiet, the captain said, "We ought not to have let ourselves be frightened out of our wits;" and ordered one of them to go and examine the house.

The messenger finding all still, went into the kitchen to light a candle, and, taking the glistening fiery eyes of the cat for live coals, he held a lucifer-match to them to light it. But the cat did not understand the joke, and flew in his face, spitting and scratching. He was dreadfully frightened, and ran to the back-door, but the dog, who lay there sprang up and bit his leg; and as he ran across the yard by the straw-heap, the donkey gave him a smart kick with its hind foot. The cock, too, who had been awakened by the noise, and had become lively, cried down from the beam, "Cock-a-doodle-doo!"

Then the robber ran back as fast as he could to his captain, and said, "Ah, there is a horrible witch sitting in the house, who spat on me and scratched my face with her long claws; and by the door stands a man with a knife, who stabbed me in the leg; and in the yard there lies a black monster, who beat me with a wooden club; and above, upon the roof, sits the judge, who called out, 'Bring the rogue here to me!' so I got away as well as I could."

After this the robbers did not trust themselves in the house again; but it suited the four musicians of Bremen so well that they did not care to leave it any more. And the mouth of him who last told this story is still warm.

November 5. Story of the Day: The Sprightly Tailor

This is from Celtic Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs, with illustrations by john Batten.

This is one of those stories with a series of body parts!

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 THE SPRIGHTLY TAILOR




A sprightly tailor was employed by the great Macdonald, in his castle at Saddell, in order to make the laird a pair of trews, used in olden time. And trews being the vest and breeches united in one piece, and ornamented with fringes, were very comfortable, and suitable to be worn in walking or dancing. And Macdonald had said to the tailor, that if he would make the trews by night in the church, he would get a handsome reward. For it was thought that the old ruined church was haunted, and that fearsome things were to be seen there at night.

The tailor was well aware of this; but he was a sprightly man, and when the laird dared him to make the trews by night in the church, the tailor was not to be daunted, but took it in hand to gain the prize. So, when night came, away he went up the glen, about half a mile distance from the castle, till he came to the old church. Then he chose him a nice gravestone for a seat and he lighted his candle, and put on his thimble, and set to work at the trews plying his needle nimbly, and thinking about the hire that the laird would have to give him.

For some time he got on pretty well, until he felt the floor all of a tremble under his feet; and looking about him, but keeping his fingers at work, he saw the appearance of a great human head rising up through the stone pavement of the church. And when the head had risen above the surface, there came from it a great, great voice. And the voice said: " Do you see this great head of mine?"

"I see that, but I'll sew this!" replied the sprightly tailor; and he stitched away at the trews.

Then the head rose higher up through the pavement, until its neck appeared. And when its neck was shown, the thundering voice came again and said: "Do you see this great neck of mine?"

"I see that, but I'll sew this!" said the sprightly tailor and he stitched away at his trews.

Then the head and neck rose higher still, until the great shoulders and chest were shown above the ground. And again the mighty voice thundered: "Do you see this great chest of mine?"

And again the sprightly tailor replied: "I see that, but I'll sew this!" and stitched away at his trews.

And still it kept rising through the pavement, until it shook a great pair of arms in the tailor's face, and said Do you see these great arms of mine?"

"I see those, but I'll sew this! " answered the tailor; and he stitched hard at his trews, for he knew that he had no time to lose.

The sprightly tailor was taking the long stitches, when he saw it gradually rising and rising through the floor, until it lifted out a great leg, and stamping with it upon the pavement, said in a roaring voice "Do you see this great leg of mine?"

"Aye, aye: I see that, but I'll sew this!" cried the tailor; and his fingers flew with the needle, and he took such long stitches, that he was just come to the end of the trews, when it was taking up its other leg. But before it could pull it out of the pavement, the sprightly tailor had finished his task; and, blowing out his candle, and springing from off his gravestone, he buckled up, and ran out of the church with the trews under his arm. Then the fearsome thing gave a loud roar, and stamped with both his feet upon the pavement, and out of the church he went after the sprightly tailor.

Down the glen they ran, faster than the stream when the flood rides it; but the tailor had got the start and a nimble pair of legs, and he did not choose to lose the laird's reward. And though the thing roared to him to stop, yet the sprightly tailor was not the man to be beholden to a monster. So he held his trews tight, and let no darkness grow under his feet, until he had reached Saddell Castle. He had no sooner got inside the gate, and shut it, than the apparition came up to it; and, enraged at losing his prize, struck the wall above the gate, and left there the mark of his five great fingers. Ye may see them plainly to this day, if ye'll only peer close enough.

But the sprightly tailor gained his reward: for Macdonald paid him handsomely for the trews, and never discovered that a few of the stitches were somewhat long.

NOTES

Source.—Notes and Queries for December 21, 1861, to which it was communicated by "Cuthbert Bede," the author of Verdant Green, who collected it in Cantyre.

Parallels.—Miss Dempster gives the same story in her Sutherland Collection, No. vii. (referred to by Campbell in his Gaelic list, at end of vol. iv.); Mrs. John Faed, I am informed by a friend, knows the Gaelic version, as told by her nurse in her youth. Chambers' "Strange Visitor," Pop. Rhymes of Scotland, 64, of which I gave an Anglicised version in my English Fairy Tales, No. xxxii., is clearly a variant.

Remarks.—The Macdonald of Saddell Castle was a very great man indeed. Once, when dining with the Lord-Lieutenant, an apology was made to him for placing him so far away from the head of the table. "Where the Macdonald sits," was the proud response, "there is the head of the table"


November 4. Story of the Day: The Jackal and the Cat

From Indian Fairy Tales by Maive Stokes. This story is told as a note to the story of The Cat Which Could Not Be Killed.

This is classified as ATU 2028. The Devouring Animal.

Looking for more stories? Click here for previous Stories-of-the-Day.


THE JACKAL AND THE CAT



There was a jackal which ate anything it came across, whether it were dead or alive.

One day he met a tiger and said to him, “I will eat you. I will not let you go.”

“Very good,” said the tiger, “eat me.”

So the jackal ate him up.

He went a little further and met a leopard; he said to the leopard, “I will eat you.”

“Very good,” said the leopard.

So he ate the leopard. He went a little further and met a tiny mouse.

“Mouse,” he said, “I have eaten a tiger and a leopard, and now I will eat you.”

“Very good,” said the mouse.

He ate the mouse.

He went a little further and met a cat. “I will eat you,” said the jackal.

The cat answered, “What will it profit you to eat me, who am so small? A little further on you will see a dead buffalo: eat that.”

So the jackal left the cat and went to eat the buffalo. He walked on and on, but could find no buffalo; and the cat, meanwhile ran away.

The jackal was very angry, and set off to seek the cat, but could not find her. He was furious.


NOTES

Told us by Gangiyá, a hill-man from near Simla.

November 3. Story of the Day: Sparrow's Revenge

This story comes from The Talking Thrush and Other Tales from India by William Crooke and W. H. D. Rouse, with illustrations by W. H. Robinson.

It is classified as ATU 210 Rooster, Hen, Duck, Pin, and Needle.

Looking for more stories? Click here for previous Stories-of-the-Day.


THE SPARROW'S REVENGE

Once there was a pair of Sparrows that were very fond of each other, and lived in a nest together as happy as the day was long. The hen laid eggs and sat upon them, and the cock went about picking up food for them both, and when he had got food enough, he sat on a twig close by the nest, and twittered for joy.

But it happened one day that a boy saw Cock Sparrow pecking at some seeds, and he picked up a stone and threw it at him, and killed him. So no food came home that morning, and Hen Sparrow grew anxious, and at last set out to find him.

In a little while she found his dead body lying in a ditch. She ruffled up her feathers and began to cry. "Who can have killed him?" she said; "my poor kind husband, who never did harm to any one."

Then a Raven flew down from a tree, where he had been sitting, and told her how a cruel boy had thrown a stone at him and killed him for sport. He saw it, said the Raven, as he was sitting on the tree.

Now Hen Sparrow determined to have her revenge. She was so much troubled that she left her eggs to hatch themselves, or to addle if they would; and gathering some straw, she plaited it into a beautiful straw carriage, with two old cotton-reels for wheels, and sticks for the shafts.

Then she went to the hole of a Rat who was a friend of hers, and called down the hole, "Mr. Rat! Mr. Rat!"

"Yes, Mrs. Sparrow," said the Rat, coming out of the hole and making a polite bow.

"Some one has thrown a stone at my husband and killed him. Will you help me to get my revenge?"

"Why," said the Rat, "how can I help you?"

"By pulling me along in my carriage," said Mrs. Sparrow.

"Oh yes," said the Rat; "that I will." So he went down into his hole again, and washed his face, and combed his whiskers, and came up all spick and span.

Mrs. Sparrow tied the shafts of the straw carriage to the Rat, and Mrs. Sparrow got in, and off they went.

On the road they met a Scorpion. Said the Scorpion, "Whither away, Mrs. Sparrow and Mr. Rat?"

Said the Hen Sparrow, "My friend Mr. Rat is pulling me along in my carriage of straw to punish a cruel boy who threw a stone at my husband and killed him."

"Quite right too," said the Scorpion. "May I come and help you? I have a beautiful sting in my tail."

"Oh, please do! come and get in," said the Sparrow.

In got the Scorpion, and away they went. By-and-by they saw a Snake.

"Good day, and God bless you," says the Snake. "Where are you going, may a mere reptile ask?"

"Mr. Scorpion and I are going to punish a cruel boy who threw a stone and killed my husband."

"Shall I come and help you?" asked the Snake. "I have fine teeth in my head to bite with."

"The more the merrier," replied Mrs. Sparrow. So in he got. They had not gone far before who should meet them but a Wolf.

"Hullo," says the Wolf gruffly; "where are you off to, I should like to know?"

"Mr. Rat is kind enough to draw me in my carriage, and we are all going to punish a cruel boy who threw a stone and killed my poor husband."

"May I come too?" growled the Wolf. "I can bite." He opened his big jaws and snarled.

"Oh, how kind you are!" said Mrs. Sparrow. "Do come! jump in, jump in!"

The poor Rat looked aghast at such a load to pull; but he was a gentlemanly Rat, and so, having offered to pull the carriage, he said nothing.

So the big Wolf got in, and nearly sat on the Scorpion's tail; if he had, he wouldn't have sat long, I think. However, the Scorpion got out of the way, and on they went all four, the poor Rat pulling with all his might, but rather slow at that.

In due time they arrived at the cruel boy's house. His mother was cooking the dinner, and his father was fast asleep in a chair. There was a river close by the house, and the Wolf went down to the river, and hid himself there; the Snake crawled among the peats, and the Scorpion began to climb up into the chair where the man was sleeping.

Then Mrs. Hen Sparrow flew in at the door and twittered, "Little boy! Little boy! There's a fish biting at your night-line!"

Up jumped the boy, and out he ran, to look at the night-line.


But as he was stooping down and looking at the line to see if any fish were hooked, the Wolf pounced upon him, and bit him in the throat, and he died.

Then the cruel boy's mother went out to get some peats, and as she put her hand in amongst them, the Snake bit her, and she gave a shriek and fell down and died.

The shriek awoke her husband sleeping in his chair, and he began to get up, but by this time the Scorpion had climbed up the leg of the chair, so he stung the man, and the man died too.

Thus there was an end of the cruel boy who killed a harmless Sparrow for sport; and though his father and mother had done nothing, yet they ought not to have had a son so cruel, or, at least, they might have brought him up better.

Anyhow, die they did, all three; and Mrs. Hen Sparrow was so delighted that she forgot all about her dead husband, and forgot her eggs which were getting addled, and went about chirruping until she found another husband, and made another nest, and (I am sorry to say) lived happily ever after.


NOTES

Told by Shin Sahái, teacher of the village school of Dayarhi Chakeri, Etah District. Another version of the Podnâ and the Podnî, N.I.N.Q. iii. 83. Compare the Valiant Blackbird, No. 28 below.

Hen Sparrow tells her husband to go into the jungle and fetch firewood to cook khîr (rice milk)—A Chamâr kills him—Hen makes carriage of straw, yokes two rats to it, and drives off to take vengeance—Meets a Wolf—"Where are you going?"—"To take vengeance on the Chamâr who killed my husband"—"May I help?"—"It will be kind"—Meets a Snake, who salutes her with, "Râm! Râm! Whither away?"—Replies as before, and same thing happens—So with a Scorpion—They arrive at the house of the Chamâr—Wolf hides near the river—Snake under pile of cow-dung fuel—Scorpion under the lamp—The Sparrow flies up to the eaves and twitters—Out comes Chamâr—Says she, "A friend awaits you near the river." To the river he goes—Wolf seizes him—His wife goes to the heap for fuel—Snake bites her—She calls to her son, "Bring the lamp"—Scorpion stings him—They all die—Hen Sparrow gets another mate, and lives happily ever after.

It is part of the Faithful Animal cycle (Temple, "Wide-awake Stories," 412; Clouston, "Popular Tales and Fictions," i. 223 seqq.). This form of tale, in which the weaker animal gets the better of its more powerful oppressor, is common in Indian folk-lore. Compare No. 1 of this collection.

November 2. Story of the Day: Hunting of the Wren

This story comes from the Journal of the Folk-Song Society. Additional versions, plus the music, online at Hathi.

This is Roud 236. It's not exactly a chain tale, but it is fun!

Looking for more stories? Click here for previous Stories-of-the-Day.


THE HUNTING OF THE WREN




I fun' a bird's nest, says Robin-a-bob-bing,
I fun' a bird's nest, says Richard to Robin,
I fun' a bird's nest, says Billy Baloo,
I fun' a bird's nest, says every one.

What will we do wi' ut? says Robin-a-bob-bing,
What will we do wi' ut? says Richard to Robin,
What will we do wi' ut? says Billy Baloo,
What will we do wi' ut? says every one.

We'll tak' ut to keepers, says Robin-a-bob-bing,
We'll tak' ut to keepers, says Richard to Robin,
We'll tak' ut to keepers, says Billy Baloo,
We'll tak' ut to keepers, says every one.

What shall we get for it? says Robin-a-bob-bing,
What shall we get for it? says Richard to Robin,
What shall we get for it? says Billy Baloo,
What shall we get for it? says every one.

Three ha-pence a piece, says Robin-a-bob-bing,
Three ha-pence a piece, says Richard to Robin,
Three ha-pence a piece, says Billy Baloo,
Three ha-pence a piece, says every one.

What shall we do wi' ut? says Robin-a-bob-bing,
What shall we do wi' ut? says Richard to Robin,
What shall we do wi' ut? says Billy Baloo,
What shall we do wi' ut? says every one.

We'll go and get drunk, says Robin-a-bob-bing,
We'll go and get drunk, says Richard to Robin,
We'll go and get drunk, says Billy Baloo,
We'll go and get drunk, says every one.

How shall we get home? says Robin-a-bob-bing,
How shall we get home? says Richard to Robin,
How shall we get home? says Billy Baloo,
How shall we get home? says every one.

We'll hire a cab, says Robin-a-bob-bing,
We'll hire a cab, says Richard to Robin,
We'll hire a cab, says Billy Baloo,
We'll hire a cab, says every one.

How shall we get in? says Robin-a-bob-bing,
How shall we get in? says Richard to Robin,
How shall we get in? says Billy Baloo,
How shall we get in? says every one.

We'll tumble in, says Robin-a-bob-bing,
We'll tumble in, says Richard to Robin,
We'll tumble in, says Billy Baloo,
We'll tumble in, says every one.

How shall we get out? says Robin-a-bob-bing,
How shall we get out? says Richard to Robin,
How shall we get out? says Billy Baloo,
How shall we get out? says every one.

Same way we got in, says Robin-a-bob-bing,
Same way we got in, says Richard to Robin,
Same way we got in, says Billy Baloo,
Same way we got in, says every one.


NOTES

2. Sung by Mr. Walter H. Birch, who learnt it from a Yorkshireman.

The second version was given to me by my brother-in-law, who heard it sun at Downton College by a fellow-student from Yorkshire. Cecil J. Sharp


November 1. Story of the Day: Oh! come out, nanny-goat!

This comes from an old booklet by George Alexander Kohut: Some Passover rhymes and their parallels.

This is an example of ATU 2030. The Old Woman and her Pig.

Looking for more stories? Click here for previous Stories-of-the-Day.


OH! COME OUT, NANNY GOAT




Oh! come out, nanny-goat,
Oh! come out of that cabbage field!
We must go and fetch the wolf!

The wolf won't eat nanny-goat,
Nanny-goat won't come out of the cabbage field.

Oh! come out, nanny-goat,
Oh! come out of that cabbage field!
We must go and fetch the dog!

The dog won't bite the wolf,
The wolf won't eat nanny-goat,
Nanny-goat won't come out of the cabbage field.

Oh! come out, nanny-goat,
Oh! come out of that cabbage field!
We must go and fetch the stick!

The stick won't beat the dog,
The dog won't bite the wolf,
The wolf won't eat nanny-goat,
Nanny-goat won't come out of the cabbage field.

Oh! come out, nanny-goat,
Oh! come out of that cabbage field!
We must go and fetch the farmer!

The farmer takes the stick,
The stick beats the dog,
The dog bites the wolf,
The wolf eats the nanny-goat.


NOTES

There are a number of parallels to Had Gadya in Oriental and Occidental folklore. Perhaps the most striking one is the old French ballad, published in the periodical Romania, in 1872, by the late Gaston Paris, entitled "Le Chanson du Chevreau" reprinted in A. Sabatier's "Chansons hebraico-provencales," in 1874, which is held to be the prototype of our legend by certain folklorists. Besides this ancient analogue, there are two more modern nursery rhymes, still quite popular in France, one of which we herewith reproduce in English translation.

October 31. Story of the Day: Yekele

From Steve Bellovin's website: Apples Will Not Fall. See his notes below, and further information on the homepage of his site.

This is an example of ATU 2030. The Old Woman and her Pig.

Looking for more stories? Click here for previous Stories-of-the-Day.


YEKELE




The Most High sent down Yekele to the world,
To the world a Yekele,
For Yekele to harvest the pears,
For Yekele to harvest the pears.

Yekele will not harvest the pears;
The pears will not fall, the pears will not fall!

The Most High sent down a dog to the world,
A dog to the world,
For the dog to bite Yekele,
For the dog to bite Yekele.

The dog will not bite Yekele;
Yekele will not harvest the pears;
The pears will not fall, the pears will not fall!

The Most High sent down a stick to the world,
A stick to the world,For the stick to hit the dog,
For the stick to hit the dog.

The stick will not hit the dog;
The dog will not bite Yekele;
Yekele will not harvest the pears;
The pears will not fall, the pears will not fall!

The Most High sent down fire to the world,
Fire to the world,
For the fire to burn the stick,
For the fire to burn the stick.

The fire will not burn the stick;
The stick will not hit the dog;
The dog will not bite Yekele;
Yekele will not harvest the pears;
The pears will not fall, the pears will not fall!

The most high sent down water to the world,
Water to the world,
For the water to put out the fire,
For the water to put out the fire.

The water will not put out the fire
The fire will not burn the stick;
The stick will not hit the dog;
The dog will not bite Yekele;
Yekele will not harvest the pears;
The pears will not fall, the pears will not fall!

The Most High sent down an ox to the world,
An ox to the world,
For the ox to drink the water,
For the ox to drink the water.

The ox will not drink the water;
The water will not put out the fire
The fire will not burn the stick;
The stick will not hit the dog;
The dog will not bite Yekele;
Yekele will not harvest the pears;
The pears will not fall, the pears will not fall!

The Most High sent down a butcher to the world,
A butcher to the world,
For the butcher to slaughter the ox,
For the butcher to slaughter the ox.

The butcher will not slaughter the ox;
The ox will not drink the water;
The water will not put out the fire
The fire will not burn the stick;
The stick will not hit the dog;
The dog will not bite Yekele;
Yekele will not harvest the pears;
The pears will not fall, the pears will not fall!

The Most High sent down the Angel of Death to the world,
The Angel of Death to the world,
For the Angel of Death to take the butcher,
For the Angel of Death to take the butcher.
The butcher now will slaughter the ox,
The ox now will drink the water,
The water now will put out the fire,
The fire now will burn the stick,
The stick now will hit the dog,
The dog now will bite Yekele,
Yekele now will harvest the pears:
The pears now will fall; the pears now will fall!

~  ~  ~

Der Oybershter's hinuntergeshicht die melech hamoves auf die weld,
Die melech hamoves auf die weld
Die melech hamoves zol die shochet nemen
Die melech hamoves zol die shochet nemen
Die shochet vill shoen exele koilen
Die exele vil shoen wasser trenken
Die wasser a vill shoen die fire lushen
Die fire vil shoen shtekele brennen
Die shtekelem vill shoen hintele shmisen
Die hintele vill shoen Yekelem bisen
Yekelem vill shoen perelech risen
Perelech vil shoen fallen;  perelech vil shoen fallen


NOTES

For at least fifty years and probably longer my family has sung a Yiddish variation of the Passover "Chad Gadya" song we call "Yekele".  There is no goat in ours, only a small boy ("Yekele") whom God has sent to pick the pears that will not fall from the tree themselves.  The boy refuses, and for encouragement God sends a dog to bite the boy, then a stick to hit the dog, a fire to burn the stick, water to quench the fire, etc.

In the last stanza the Melech Hamoves (Angel of Death) is sent and suddenly everyone turns to do his duty, but the pears, of course, have already fallen.  It's a wonderful story with a moral, sung to a minor key melody very different from "Chad Gadya"

Relatives as far back as my late great-grandfather have always claimed that it is a private family song.  How can this be? Doesn't anyone else, particularly of eastern European origin, know this version?


HThisere is a transliteration of the song as I remember it from seders of many years ago. 

October 30. Story of the Day: A Man of Words

This version of the traditional rhyme comes from Negro Folk Rhymes by Thomas Talley.

This is Roud 19103: A Man of Words. You can compare a traditional British version from Lang's Nursery Rhymes, and also a children's game.

Looking for more stories? Click here for previous Stories-of-the-Day.


A MAN OF WORDS

A man o' words an' not o' deeds,
Is lak a gyarden full o' weeds.

De weeds 'gin to grow
Lak a gyarden full o' snow.

De snow 'gin to fly
Lak a eagle in de sky.

De sky 'gin to roar
Lak a hammer on yō' door.

De door 'gin to crack
Lak a hick'ry on yō' back.

Yō' back 'gin to smart
Lak a knife in yō' heart.

Yō' heart 'gin to fail
Lak a boat widout a sail.

De boat 'gin to sink
Lak a bottle full o' ink.

Dat ink, it won't write
Neider black nor white.

Dat man o' words an' not o' deeds,
Is lak a gyarden full o' weeds.



(photo by Mike Mozart)



October 29. Story of the Day: The Pea that made a Fortune.

This story comes from Jamaica Anansi Stories by Martha Warren Beckwith.

This is an example of ATU 2034C. Lending and Repaying.

Looking for more stories? Click here for previous Stories-of-the-Day.


THE PEA THAT MADE A FORTUNE

One day an old lady was traveling on the road and she picked up a green pea and she planted it. And after it grew, her goat ate it off.

She cried upon the goat and told it that she wanted the peas. The goat said that he didn't have anything to give her, but she could take one of his horns. She took the horn and went to the river-side to wash it. The river took it away from her.

She cried upon the river, and the river said it didn't have anything to give her but a fish. She went further. She met a man who was very hungry. She gave the man the fish.

After the man ate it, she cried upon the man. The man gave her a moreen [piece of cloth]. She went a little further and saw a cow-boy. She gave him the moreen.

After he had worn it out, she cried upon him for it. He said he didn't have anything to give her but his whip. She went a little further and saw a man driving cows. She gave the whip to the man.

After the man had lashed it out, she cried upon him, so he gave her a cow; and from the cow she made heir riches.




NOTES. Told by Etheline Samuels, Claremont, St. Ann.

CHAIN: pea - horn - fish - cloth - whip - cow

October 28. Story of the Day: Keys of Canterbury,

This version of the song comes from The Nursery Rhyme Book edited by Andrew Lang.

It is classified as Roud 573: Keys of Canterbury.

Looking for more stories? Click here for previous Stories-of-the-Day.


THE KEYS OF CANTERBURY


(Tin Whistle Duet)

Oh, madam, I will give you the keys of Canterbury,
To set all the bells ringing when we shall be merry,
If you will but walk abroad with me,
If you will but walk with me.

Sir, I'll not accept of the keys of Canterbury,
To set all the bells ringing when we shall be merry;
Neither will I walk abroad with thee,
Neither will I talk with thee!

Oh, madam, I will give you a fine carved comb,
To comb out your ringlets when I am from home,
If you will but walk abroad with me,
If you will but walk with me.

Sir, I'll not accept a fine carved comb,
To comb out my ringlets when you are from home,
Neither will I walk abroad with thee,
Neither will I talk with thee!

Oh, madam, I will give you a pair of shoes of cork,
One made in London, the other made in York,
If you will but walk abroad with me,
If you will but walk with me.

Sir, I'll not accept a pair of shoes of cork,
One made in London, the other made in York,
Neither will I walk abroad with thee,
Neither will I talk with thee!

Madam, I will give you a sweet silver bell,
To ring up your maidens when you are not well,
If you will but walk abroad with me,
If you will but walk with me.

Sir, I'll not accept a sweet silver bell,
To ring up my maidens when I am not well,
Neither will I walk abroad with thee,
Neither will I talk with thee!

Oh, my man John, what can the matter be?
I love the lady and the lady loves not me!
Neither will she walk abroad with me,
Neither will she talk with me.

Oh, master dear, do not despair,
The lady she shall be, shall be your only dear;
And she will walk and talk with thee,
And she will walk with thee!

Oh, madam, I will give you the keys of my chest,
To count my gold and silver when I am gone to rest,
If you will but walk abroad with me,
If you will but talk with me.

Oh, sir, I will accept of the keys of your chest,
To count your gold and silver when you are gone to rest,
And I will walk abroad with thee,
And I will talk with thee!


October 27. Story of the Day: Sneezes

This story comes from The Nursery Rhymes of England by James Orchard Halliwell.

It is an example of ATU 2012 Days of the Week.

Looking for more stories? Click here for previous Stories-of-the-Day.


SNEEZES

If you sneeze on Monday, you sneeze for danger;
Sneeze on a Tuesday, kiss a stranger;
Sneeze on a Wednesday, sneeze for a letter;
Sneeze on a Thursday, something better;
Sneeze on a Friday, sneeze for sorrow;
Sneeze on a Saturday, see your sweetheart to-morrow.

Compare the variations in Northall's English Folk-Rhymes; there is a version from Lancashire which includes Sunday:

Sneeze on a Sunday, your safety seek:
The devil will have you the whole of the week.





October 26. Story of the Day: Cold May Night

I read this story in Folktales Told around the World by Richard M. Dorson (pp. 6-9), who took the story from Folktales of Ireland by Sean O'Sullivan, and his source in turn is Micheal O Coileain, aged 70, as recorded in 1946. For ancient testimony about this story, see The Adventures of Leithin by Douglas Hyde in the Celtic Review 10 (online at Hathi).

The story is set on the island off Achill, which is the largest of the "Irish Isles" off the Mayo coast; you can read more at Wikipedia. Old May night refers to the night of May 11, which is to say it is the old May 1 (Beltane) in the new style calendar following 1750.

The story is classified as ATU 1927.

The version below is a paraphrase of the story in my own words. I have emphasized the formulaic/cumulative features of the story in my version. I took the detail of the salmon's blood from the ATU summary (in other respects, I followed this story, which is quite different from the ATU summary with the crow-eagle framework).

Looking for more stories? Click here for previous Stories-of-the-Day.


The Cold May Night
(retold by Laura Gibbs)


There are cold nights, and colder nights, and the coldest night of all happened long, long ago on Old May Night. Who remembers the coldest night? Only the oldest animals can remember the coldest night. The Old Crow of Achill Island is one of them. But he was younger then, and stronger. Now the cold bothers him. 

One cold night not so long ago the Old Crow of the Island sought shelter in an eagle's nest that he found high atop the tallest tree. The Eagle was away hunting, and there was a hungry chick awaiting her return. The Crow killed the chick and took its place, settling himself down deep into the nest.

Not long after, the Eagle returned with food for her chick. In the dark, she did not notice that it was the Crow instead of her chick who took the food and ate it hungrily. She then settled down into the nest herself, complaining that she had never felt a colder night. 

The Crow kept quiet. 

Yet as the Eagle went on and on and on and on about the cold, the Crow could not contain himself and grumbled, "I've known colder."

"What are you talking about? You hatched only a few weeks ago!"

"Oh, there was a colder night. It was on Old May Night," the Crow replied.

"How would a young chick like yourself know anything about that?" retorted the Eagle.

They argued until dawn. Finally the Crow said to the Eagle, "If you don't believe me, go ask the Blackbird of the Forge."

So the Eagle flew off to question the Blackbird of the Forge. "Listen," said the Eagle, "I cannot remember a colder night than last night, but my chick tells me that there was an Old May Night that was colder still. He's only a few weeks old himself, so I can hardly believe him, but he told me to come ask you. And here I am."

The Blackbird of the Forge thought for a moment and then replied, "Last night was the coldest night that I have ever known, and I have been alive a very long time. Do you see this iron rod which is my perch? Every seven years, I rub my beak against the rod. It used to be many inches thick, but now it is so thin that if I rub my beak on it just one more time, it will break; that is how long I have perched here, and I have never known a colder night than last night. But if you don't believe me, go ask the Bull in the Field."

The Eagle thanked the Blackbird of the Forge and flew off to question the Bull in the Field. "Listen," said the Eagle, "I cannot remember a colder night than last night, but my chick tells me that there was an Old May Night that was colder still. He's only a few weeks old himself, so I can hardly believe him, but he told me to go ask the Blackbird of the Forge. The Blackbird does not remember a colder night than last night, but she told me to come ask you. And here I am."

The Bull of the Field thought for a moment and then replied, "Last night was the coldest night that I have ever known, and I have been alive a very long time. Do you see the fence which surrounds this field? It is made up of my horns. Every  year, I shed my horns, and when I shed my two horns this year, the fence around the field will be complete; that is how long I have dwelled here, and I have never known a colder night than last night. But if you don't believe me, go ask the Blind Salmon of the Waterfall."

The Eagle thanked the Bull in the Field and flew off to question the Blind Salmon of the Waterfall. "Listen," said the Eagle, "I cannot remember a colder night than last night, but my chick tells me that there was an Old May Night that was colder still. He's only a few weeks old himself, so I can hardly believe him, but he told me to go ask the Blackbird of the Forge. The Blackbird does not remember a colder night than last night, but she told me to go ask the Bull in the Field. The Bull does not remember a colder night than last night, but he told me to come ask you. And here I am."

The Blind Salmon of the Waterfall thought for a moment and then replied, "Yes, there was a night that was colder than last night. It was on Old May Night, many years ago. I was leaping about just trying to keep warm when the water froze right under me and I landed on the ice. Around dawn, the Old Crow flew by, and he saw me there on the ice. He swooped down and started pecking out my eye. Luckily for me, the blood coming out of my eye warmed the ice beneath me, and I was able to escape back into the water. That's how I became blind in that eye, and that's also how I know it must have been the Old Crow of the Island, and not your chick, who spent last night in your nest."

"No!" screamed the Eagle. She rushed back to her nest, but it was empty. Her chick was gone. So was the Old Crow.

And there has never been a night as cold again as that Old May Night of long ago.


October 25. Story of the Day: The Paila and the Paili

This story comes from Indian Folk Tales by E. M. Gordon.

The classification is TMI Z39.8. Small grain-measure runs away.

Looking for more stories? Click here for previous Stories-of-the-Day.



THE PAILA AND THE PAILI

Once upon a time a Paila, a large grain-measure, had a quarrel with the Paili, a small grain-measure, and the Paila beat the Paili so that the Paili ran away from her husband in a temper.

When the Paili was on the roadside she met a crow seated in a nim-tree. The crow said to the Paili, "Where are you going to, O Paili?"

The Paili replied that her husband, the Paila, had beaten her, and she was running away from him.

Said the crow, "Well, come and stay with me; do not go away in anger."

The Paili replied, "What will you give me to eat and what to drink, what to wear and what to spread?"

The crow replied, "I will place one wing under you and the other above, and the food left over by others I will bring you to eat."

But the Paili said she would not stay, and so saying she went on her way.

On the side of a tank the Paili met a Bagula (a crane or heron), and the Bagula also begged her to remain with him.


The Paili said to him, "What will you give to eat, what to drink, what to wear, and what to spread?"

Said the Bagula, "I will place one wing below you and the other above, and I will feed you with fishes."

But the Paili would not stay with the Bagula, and went on her way.

Next the Paili came to a place where a Raja was holding his Darbar. Then the Raja asked of her, "Where are you going to, O Paili?"

The Paili replied, "The Paila beat me, so I am going away in a temper."

But the Raja begged of her to remain with him. The Paili asked him what she would get to eat and what to drink, what to wear and what to spread. The Raja said,  I will place one cushion below you and one above, and whatsoever you desire you may have to eat."

But the Paili refused to stay with the Raja.

As she went on her way she met a dog coming from the river after having had a bath. The dog said, '' Where are you going to, O Paili?" and the Paili replied that the Paila had beaten her and she was going away from him in a temper.

Then the dog also asked the Paili to stay with him, and the Paili said, "What will you give me to eat and what to drink, what to wear and what to spread?"

The dog replied that in the Raja's store there was a quantity of gur (raw sugar), and they would eat from that as much as they pleased. Then the Paili consented to stay with the dog. And they both lived in the Raja's storehouse.

One day the Raja sent his daughter to bring gur from his store. So the daughter, taking the scales and weights, went to the store to fetch the gur. First she threw the scales into the store, and was about to follow herself, but the scales struck the dog on the head, and Paili jumped out, saying —

On the nim-tree I left the crow,
On the tank I left the bagula,
Oh now my wounded dog,
The weights have crushed your head.

Lim bharahbar kauwa chharev, 
Tal bharabhar bagula, 
Hai re mor bucha kukur, 
Paseri mur kucha.