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 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"

October 21. Story of the Day: The Two Cats

Today's story is one that I wrote, inspired by The Two Little Cats, from Tibetan Folk Tales by A.L. Shelton. I first published the story in my class blog for Fall 2018, and I've copied it here.

This type of story is classified as ATU 210 Rooster, Hen, Duck, Pin, and Needle. It is a folktale type that you can find in Europe (Brothers Grimm) and also in Asia. For an example from India, see The Sparrow's Revenge. For additional information, see the notes at the bottom of the page.

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

Once upon a time, there were two cats who lived in the forest. The cats enjoyed milk in their tea, but one day they were out of milk.

And so they went to visit the cow.

Along the way, they saw the Beast! He was a horrible monster who liked to eat little cats, chomping them with his big yellow teeth and smacking his fat orange lips.

And so the two cats ran as fast as they could to get away from the Beast.

“Run if you want, little cats!” shouted the Beast. “But I see you. I’m going to go to your house and wait for you there. Then I will eat you for my supper.”

The cats kept running until they reached the cow’s house.

“Greetings to you both,” said the cow. “Have you come for some milk?”

“Yes and no,” gasped the cats. “We were coming for milk, but we ran into the Beast, and now he’s gone to our house and he’s waiting for us there.”

“Have no fear,” said the cow. “I will go with you, and we’ll fight the Beast together. Come on!”

And so the cow and the two cats traveled through the forest together.

Along the path, they met a dog. “Greetings to you all!” said the dog. “Where are you going in such a hurry today?”

The cow said, “I am going with these cats to fight the Beast!”

“I will go with you,” said the dog. “Maybe I can help!”

And so the dog, the cow, and the two cats traveled through the forest together.

Along the path, they met a crow. “Greetings to you all!” said the crow. “Where are you going in such a hurry today?”

The dog said, “I am going with this cow and these cats to fight the Beast!”

“I will go with you,” said the crow. “Maybe I can help!”

And so the crow, the dog, the cow, and the two cats traveled through the forest together.

Along the path, they met a big heap of ashes. “Greetings to you all!” said the ashes. “Where are you going in such a hurry today?”

The crow said, “I am going with this dog and this cow and these cats to fight the Beast!”

“We will go with you,” said the ashes. “Maybe we can help!”

And so the ashes, the crow, the dog, the cow, and the two cats traveled through the forest together.

Along the path, they met a packet of needles. “Greetings to you all!” said the needles. “Where are you going in such a hurry today?”

The ashes said, “We are going with this crow and this dog and this cow and these cats to fight the Beast!”

“We will go with you,” said the needles. “Maybe we can help!”

And so the needles, the ashes, the crow, the dog, the cow, and the two cats traveled through the forest together.

Along the path, they met a snake. “Greetings to you all!” said the snake. “Where are you going in such a hurry today?”

The needles said, “We are going with these ashes and this crow and this dog and this cow and these cats to fight the Beast!”

“I will go with you,” said the snake. “Maybe I can help!”

And so the snake, the needles, the ashes, the crow, the dog, the cow, and the two cats traveled through the forest together.

Along the path, they met a bowl full of dried beans. “Greetings to you all!” said the beans. “Where are you going in such a hurry today?”

The snake said, “I am going with these needles and these ashes and this crow and this dog and this cow and these cats to fight the Beast!”

“We will go with you,” said the beans. “Maybe we can help!”

And so the beans, the snake, the needles, the ashes, the crow, the dog, the cow, and the two cats traveled through the forest together.

When they reached the cats’ house, the cow told them all what to do. “Dog, you wait in the yard. Crow, you hide in the water pitcher. Ashes, you climb up on the cupboard. Needles, you slide into the bed. Snake, you get into the breadbox. Beans, you wait at the top of the stairs, and I’ll wait at the bottom. Now go to your stations, quietly, so the Beast does not hear you come in.” Then the cow told the cats what to do.

When everyone was in place, the cats jumped up in the window. “Oh Beast!” shouted the cats. “Aren’t you thirsty?”

The Beast realized he was very thirsty, so he ran to grab the water jug, and the crow bit him.

“Oh Beast!” shouted the cats. “Aren’t you hungry?”

The Beast realized he was very hungry, so he ran to get some bread from the breadbox, and the snake stung him.

“Oh Beast!” shouted the cats. “Aren’t you sleepy?”

The Beast realized he was very sleepy, so he ran to lie down on the bed, and the needles stabbed him.

“Oh Beast!” shouted the cats. “Can’t you see us on the cupboard?”

The Beast ran to look up at the cupboard, and the ashes fell down into his eyes.

“Oh Beast!” shouted the cats. “Can’t you see us at the top of the stairs?”

The Beast ran to the top of the stairs, and the beans made his stumble and fall.

“Oh no!” shouted the Beast.

Then he landed on the horns of the cow.

“Oh no!” shouted the Beast.

Then the cow tossed the Beast over to the dog.

“Oh no!” shouted the Beast.

Then the dog pounced on the Beast and ate him all up.

And that was the end of the Beast.

After the excitement was over, the cats and their friends then enjoyed a nice cup of tea, and they all lived happily ever after.


Author's Notes. I have kept all the characters the same as in the original, and the plot is exactly the same too. What I tried to do with my story was to bring out the repetition and cumulative chain-tale quality, showing how the collection of characters grows one by one by one, and how they each have their role to play in defeating the monster. The original story had a chain of characters, but it was not told in a cumulative way, listing the whole chain every time a new item is added.

In the original version, the cats need butter for their tea. You can read about yak-butter tea from Tibet at Wikipedia. Also, the monster was called "Handre" in the original version, but I have not been able to find any other information about this Tibetan monster beyond this story.

Image Information. Cat figurine at Etsy.

October 20. Story of the Day: The Old Witch

This story comes from More English Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs, illustrated by John Batten.

I have not found the ATU type for this story yet, but you will recognize familiar motifs here, as the one sister acts kindly and earns a series of helpers, while her other sister does just the opposite.

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

THE OLD WITCH

ONCE upon a time there were two girls who lived with their mother and father. Their father had no work, and the girls wanted to go away and seek their fortunes.

Now one girl wanted to go to service, and her mother said she might if she could find a place. So she started for the town. Well, she went all about the town, but no one wanted a girl like her.

So she went on farther into the country, and she came to the place where there was an oven where there was lots of bread baking. And the bread said, 'Little girl, little girl, take us out, take us out. We have been baking seven years, and no one has come to take us out.' So the girl took out the bread, laid it on the ground and went on her way.

Then she met a cow, and the cow said, 'Little girl, little girl, milk me, milk me! Seven years have I been waiting, and no one has come to milk me.' The girl milked the cow into the pails that stood by. As she was thirsty she drank some, and left the rest in the pails by the cow.

Then she went on a little farther, and came to an apple-tree, so loaded with fruit that its branches were breaking down, and the tree said, 'Little girl, little girl, help me shake my fruit. My branches are breaking, it is so heavy.'

And the girl said, 'Of course I will, you poor tree.' So she shook the fruit all off, propped up the branches, and left the fruit on the ground under the tree.

Then she went on again till she came to a house. Now in this house there lived a witch, and this witch took girls into her house as servants. And when she heard that this girl had left her home to seek service, she said that she would try her, and give her good wages. The witch told the girl what work she was to do. 'You must keep the house clean and tidy, sweep the floor and the fireplace; but there is one thing you must never do. You must never look up the chimney, or something bad will befall you.'

So the girl promised to do as she was told, but one morning as she was cleaning, and the witch was out, she forgot what the witch said, and looked up the chimney. When she did this a great bag of money fell down in her lap. This happened again and again. So the girl started to go off home.

When she had gone some way she heard the witch coming after her. So she ran to the apple-tree and cried:
'Apple-tree, apple-tree, hide me,
So the old witch can't find me;
If she does she'll pick my bones,
And bury me under the marble stones.'

So the apple-tree hid her. When the witch came up she said:
'Tree of mine, tree of mine,
Have you seen a girl
With a willy-willy wag, and a long-tailed bag,
Who's stole my money, all I had?'

And the apple-tree said, 'No, mother; not for seven year.'

When the witch had gone down another way, the girl went on again, and just as she got to the cow heard the witch coming after her again, so she ran to the cow and cried:
'Cow, cow, hide me,
So the old witch can't find me;
If she does she'll pick my bones,
And bury me under the marble stones.'

So the cow hid her.

When the old witch came up, she looked about and said to the cow:
'Cow of mine, cow of mine,
Have you seen a girl
With a willy-willy wag, and a long-tailed bag,
Who's stole my money, all I had?'

And the cow said, 'No, mother, not for seven year.'

When the witch had gone off another way, the little girl went on again, and when she was near the oven she heard the witch coming after her again, so she ran to the oven and cried:
'Oven, oven, hide me,
So the old witch can't find me;
If she does she'll pick my bones,
And bury me under the marble stones.'

And the oven said, 'I've no room, ask the baker,' and the baker hid her behind the oven.

When the witch came up she looked here and there and everywhere, and then said to the baker:
'Man of mine, man of mine,
Have you seen a girl,
With a willy-willy wag, and a long-tailed bag,
Who's stole my money, all I had?'

So the baker said, 'Look in the oven.' The old witch went to look, and the oven said, 'Get in and look in the furthest corner.' The witch did so, and when she was inside the oven shut her door, and the witch was kept there for a very long time.

The girl then went off again, and reached her home with her money bags, married a rich man, and lived happy ever afterwards.

The other sister then thought she would go and do the same. And she went the same way. But when she reached the oven, and the bread said, 'Little girl, little girl, take us out. Seven years have we been baking, and no one has come to take us out', the girl said, 'No, I don't want to burn my fingers.'

So she went on till she met the cow, and the cow said, 'Little girl, little girl, milk me, milk me, do. Seven years have I been waiting, and no one has come to milk me.' But the girl said, 'No, I can't milk you, I'm in a hurry,' and went on faster.

Then she came to the apple-tree, and the apple-tree asked her to help shake the fruit. 'No, I can't; another day p'raps I may,' and went on till she came to the witch's house.

Well, it happened to her just the same as to the other girl -- she forgot what she was told, and, one day when the witch was out, looked up the chimney, and down fell a bag of money.

Well, she thought she would be off at once. When she reached the apple-tree, she heard the witch coming after her, and she cried:
'Apple-tree, apple-tree, hide me,
So the old witch can't find me;
If she does she'll pick my bones,
And bury me under the marble stones.'

But the tree didn't answer, and she ran on further. Presently the witch came up and said:
'Tree of mine, tree of mine,
Have you seen a girl,
With a willy-willy wag, and a long-tailed bag,
Who's stole my money, all I had?'

The tree said, 'Yes, mother; she's gone down that way.'

So the old witch went after her and caught her; she took all the money away from her, beat her, and sent her off home just as she was.

NOTES

SOURCE Collected by Mrs Gomme at Deptford.

PARALLELS I have a dim memory of hearing a similar tale in Australia in 1860. It is clearly parallel with the Grimms' Frau Holle, where the good girl is rewarded and the bad punished in a similar way. Perrault's Toads and Diamonds is of the same genus.

October 14. Story of the Day: Brer Anansi Borrows Money

Today's story is one that I wrote, inspired by Beckwith's Chain of Victims story from Jamaica. I first published the story in my class blog for Fall 2018, and I've copied it here.

The story is classified as ATU 2024. Rabbit Borrows Money. See my notes at the bottom of the story for changes that I made.

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

BRER ANANSI BORROWS MONEY

This is a story about ANANSI, the trickster spider:

Anasi was broke and needed some money. So he made a plan. A very sneaky plan.

First he went to Hog and said, "Brer Hog, lend me a dollar! I'll pay you back! Just come to my house tomorrow, twelve o'clock sharp."

Brer Hog said okay, and he gave Anansi a dollar.

Next he went to Dog and said, "Brer Dog, lend me a dollar! I'll pay you back! Just come to my house tomorrow, three minutes after twelve."

Brer Dog said okay, and he gave Anansi a dollar. That made two dollars.

Then he went to Monkey and said, "Brer Monkey, lend me a dollar! I'll pay you back! Just come to my house tomorrow, six minutes after twelve."

Brer Monkey said okay, and he gave Anansi a dollar. That made three dollars.

Next he went to Tiger and said, "Brer Tiger, lend me a dollar! I'll pay you back! Just come to my house tomorrow, nine minutes after twelve."

Brer Tiger said okay, and he gave Anansi a dollar. That made four dollars.

Finally he went to Lion and said, "Brer Lion, lend me a dollar! I'll pay you back! Just come to my house tomorrow, twelve minutes after twelve."

Brer Lion said okay, and he gave Anansi a dollar. That made five dollars.

Anansi took the money and had himself a big feast that night.

The next day, precisely at noon, Hog came knocking.

"Who's there?" Anansi said.

"It's me, Brer Hog!"

Anansi said, "Come on in!"

While he and Hog stood there talking, someone knocked at the door. It was three minutes after twelve o'clock. Anansi said, "Who's there?"

"It's me, Brer Dog!"

Anansi looked worried. "Brer Hog," he said, "you better go run in the other room there and hide under the bed. Brer Dog is a bad man. He told he wants to catch you and eat you up!"

Brer Hog ran into the other room, and Anansi opened the door. Brer Dog came in. While he and Dog stood there talking, someone knocked at the door. It was six minutes after twelve o'clock. Anansi said, "Who's there?"

"It's me, Brer Monkey!"

Anansi looked worried. "Brer Dog," he said, "you better go run in the other room there and hide under the bed. Brer Monkey is a bad man. He told he wants to catch you and eat you up! If you find Brer Hog in there already, you better kill him to keep him from squealing. That Brer Hog is a squealing fool! He'll give you away for sure."

Brer Dog ran into the other room, and Anansi sang to himself:

Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na bom,
Eb-ry-bod-y
Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na bom,
Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na.
Po' Hog dead and gone.

Then Anansi opened the door. Brer Monkey came in. While he and Monkey stood there talking, someone knocked at the door. It was nine minutes after twelve o'clock. Anansi said, "Who's there?"

"It's me, Brer Tiger!"

Anansi looked worried. "Brer Monkey," he said, "you better go run in the other room there and hide under the bed. Brer Tiger is a bad man. He told he wants to catch you and eat you up! If you find Brer Dog in there already, you better kill him to keep him from barking. That Brer Dog is a barking fool! He'll give you away for sure."

Brer Monkey ran into the other room, and Anansi sang to himself:

Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na bom,
Eb-ry-bod-y
Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na bom,
Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na.
Po' Dog dead and gone.

Then Anansi opened the door. Brer Tiger came in. While he and Tiger stood there talking, someone knocked at the door. It was twelve minutes after twelve o'clock. Anansi said, "Who's there?"

"It's me, Brer Lion!"

Anansi looked worried. "Brer Tiger," he said, "you better go run in the other room there and hide under the bed. Brer Lion is a bad man. He told he wants to catch you and eat you up! If you find Brer Monkey in there already, you better kill him to keep him from chattering. That Brer Monkey is a chattering fool! He'll give you away for sure."

Brer Tiger ran into the other room, and Anansi sang to himself:

Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na bom,
Eb-ry-bod-y
Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na bom,
Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na.
Po' Monkey dead and gone.

Then Anansi opened the door. Brer Lion came in. As soon as Brer Lion came in, Anansi told him, "You came at just the right time: I've got something good for you! Brer Tiger is in the other room there: if you hurry, you can kill him and eat him!"

Brer Lion went running into the other room, and Anansi sang to himself:

Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na bom,
Eb-ry-bod-y
Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na bom,
Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na.
Po' Tiger dead and gone.

As he was singing, Anansi went and dug a big hole outside the back door and shouted, "Brer Lion, come on out here! I've got a big stew pot where we can cook up all that meat! Grab Tiger and Monkey and Dog and Hog and put them in the pot so we can have a feast!"

Lion grabbed Tiger in one paw and Monkey in another paw and Dog in his mouth and then he picked up Hog with his tail, and he came hopping as quick as he could.

"I'm here out back," Anansi shouted.

Hop, hop, hop, Lion came on out back and fell right into that hole and broke his neck.

Anansi cackled and danced around the hole singing:

Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na bom,
Eb-ry-bod-y
Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na bom,
Si-lay-na, Si-lay-na.
Po' Hog dead and gone.
Po' Dog dead and gone.
Po' Monkey dead and gone.
Po' Tiger dead and gone.
Po' Lion dead and gone.

"I picked your pockets clean, and now I'll pick your bones clean too!

Anansi had himself another big feast that night.

So you better watch out if Anansi ever asks you to loan him a dollar.

Author's Note

I started out with the "chain of victims" story about Anansi and it has the basic plot, where Anansi borrows money from the five victims and then has the victims kill each other so that when he kills Lion himself in the end, they are all dead. That story was written in dialect, so I wrote it out in more standard English, and I also fixed a gap in the story; in the version Beckwith collected, Anansi didn't actually tell Monkey to kill Dog. I made sure my story didn't have any gaps.

Then I started filling things up with more details until I hit 999 words. I added the little song, based on a song that Anansi sang in another story about Tiger (Tiger as Riding-Horse). I added the parts where Anansi tells each animal why they should kill the animal before them; that is a typical chain-tale detail where the sounds that animals make are often how you create the chain (like in Old MacDonald Had a Farm). I spread out the animals coming at noon so there was a three-minute gap in-between each one. I also added the part where Anansi tells Lion to bring the other animals with him when he comes outside; it was fun imagining the Lion trying to carry them all, kind of like in a cartoon.

Bibliography

Chain of Victims, in Jamaica Anansi Stories by Martha Warren Beckwith (1924). For this story, her informant was: Richard Morgan, Santa Cruz Mountains.

For my own future reference, I am copying out Beckwith's comparative notes here: Common as is the story of the "chain of victims" in Africa, Falconer gave me the only version I heard in Jamaica. Compare Koelle, 158-161; Dayrell, 6-10; Nassau, 245-247; Tremearne, 373-374; FL 21:211-212; Lenz, 39-40; Boas, JAFL 25:207-209; Rattray, 2:58-72.

Also for future reference, the ATU Tale Type is 2024: Rabbit Borrows Money. A rabbit borrows money from a beetle, a hen, a fox, a dog, a tiger, and a hunter. When the beetle asks for the money back, the rabbit tells him to wait behind to count the money. Instead, the hen eats the beetle, then the fox eats the hen, etc.

Images

SVGSilh Hog.
SVGSilh Dog.

Wikimedia Monkey.

Wikimedia Tiger.

Lion Coloring Pages.

How to Draw a Cartoon Spider. I made the animation by turning the spider into a circle gif using LunaPic and then rotating it with GIMP.

October 10. Story of the Day: Hedley Kow

From More English Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs, illustrated by John Batten. This folktale has an entry at Wikipedia. A "kow" (also known as a wirrikow or worrycow) is not the dairy animal; this is a kind of mischievous elf or hobgoblin.

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

THE HEDLEY KOW

There was once an old woman, who earned a poor living by going errands and suchlike, for the farmers' wives round about the village where she lived. It wasn't much she earned by it; but with a plate of meat at one house, and a cup of tea at another, she made shift to get on somehow, and always looked as cheerful as if she hadn't a want in the world.

Well, one summer evening as she was trotting away homewards, she came upon a big black pot lying at the side of the road.

'Now that,' said she, stopping to look at it, 'would be just the very thing for me if I had anything to put into it! But who can have left it here?' and she looked round about, as if the person it belonged to must be not far off. But she could see no one.

'Maybe it'll have a hole in it,' she said thoughtfully -- 'Ay, that'll be how they've left it lying, hinny. But then it'd do fine to put a flower in for the window; I'm thinking I'll just take it home, anyways.' And she bent her stiff old back, and lifted the lid to look inside.

'Mercy me!' she cried, and jumped back to the other side of the road; 'if it isn't brim full o' gold pieces!!'

For a while she could do nothing but walk round and round her treasure, admiring the yellow gold and wondering at her good luck, and saying to herself about every two minutes, 'Well, I do be feeling rich and grand!' But presently she began to think how she could best take it home with her; and she couldn't see any other way than by fastening one end of her shawl to it, and so dragging it after her along the road.

'It'll certainly be soon dark,' she said to herself, 'and folk'll not see what I'm bringing home with me, and so I'll have all the night to myself to think what I'll do with it. I could buy a grand house and all, and live like the Queen herself, and not do a stroke of work all day, but just sit by the fire with a cup of tea; or maybe I'll give it to the priest to keep for me, and get a piece as I'm wanting; or maybe I'll just bury it in a hole at the garden-foot, and put a bit on the chimney, between the chiney teapot and the spoons -- for ornament like. Ah! I feel so grand, I don't know myself rightly!'

And by this time being already rather tired with dragging such a heavy weight after her, she stopped to rest for a minute, turning to make sure that the treasure was safe.

But when she looked at it, it wasn't a pot of gold at all, but a great lump of shining silver!

She stared at it, and rubbed her eyes and stared at it again; but she couldn't make it look like anything but a great lump of silver. 'I'd have sworn it was a pot of gold,' she said at last, 'but I reckon I must have been dreaming. Ay, now, that's a change for the better; it'll be far less trouble to look after, and none so easy stolen; yon gold pieces would have been a sight of bother to keep 'em safe. Ay, I'm well quit of them; and with my bonny lump I'm as rich as rich -- !'

And she set off homewards again, cheerfully planning all the grand things she was going to do with her money. It wasn't very long, however, before she got tired again and stopped once more to rest for a minute or two.

Again she turned to look at her treasure, and as soon as she set eyes on it she cried out in astonishment. 'Oh, my!' said she; 'now it's a lump o' iron! Well, that beats all; and it's just real convenient! I can sell it as easy as easy, and get a lot o' penny pieces for it. Ay, hinny, an' it's much handier than a lot o' yer gold and silver as'd have kept me from sleeping o' nights thinking the neighbours were robbing me -- an' it's a real good thing to have by you in a house, ye niver can tell what ye mightn't use it for, an' it'll sell -- aye, for a real lot. Rich? I'll be just rolling!'

And on she trotted again chuckling to herself on her good luck, till presently she glanced over her shoulder, 'just to make sure it was there still', as she said to herself.

'Eh, my!' she cried as soon as she saw it; 'if it hasn't gone and turned itself into a great stone this time! Now, how could it have known that I was just terrible wanting something to hold my door open with? Ay, if that isn't a good change! Hinny, it's a fine thing to have such good luck.'

And, all in a hurry to see how the stone would look in its corner by her door, she trotted off down the hill, and stopped at the foot, beside her own little gate.

When she had unlatched it, she turned to unfasten her shawl from the stone, which this time seemed to lie unchanged and peaceably on the path beside her. There was still plenty of light, and she could see the stone quite plainly as she bent her stiff back over it, to untie the shawl end; when, all of a sudden, it seemed to give a jump and a squeal, and grew in a moment as big as a great horse; then it threw down four lanky legs, and shook out two long ears, flourished a tail, and went off kicking its feet into the air and laughing like a naughty mocking boy.

The old woman stared after it, till it was fairly out of sight.

'Well!' she said at last, 'I do be the luckiest body hereabouts! Fancy me seeing the Hedley Kow all to myself, and making so free with it, too! I can tell you, I do feel that GRAND --'

And she went into her cottage, and sat down by the fire to think over her good luck.

NOTES

SOURCE Told to Mrs Balfour by Mrs M. of S. Northumberland. Mrs M.'s mother told the tale as having happened to a person she had known when young: she had herself seen the Hedley Kow twice, once as a donkey and once as a wisp of straw. 'Kow' must not be confounded with the more prosaic animal with a 'C'.

PARALLELS There is a short reference to the Hedley Kow in Henderson, l.c., first edition, pp. 234 -- 5. Our story is shortly referred to thus: 'He would present himself to some old dame gathering sticks, in the form of a truss of straw, which she would be sure to take up and carry away. Then it would become so heavy that she would have to lay her burden down, on which the straw would become "quick", rise upright and shuffle away before her, till at last it vanished from her sight with a laugh and shout.' Some of Robin Goodfellow's pranks are similar to those of the Hedley Kow. The old woman's content with the changes is similar to that of 'Mr Vinegar'. An ascending scale of changes has been studied by Prof. Crane, Italian Popular Tales, p. 373.

September 13. Story of the Day: Cock that Wished to Become Pope

This is another story from Italian Popular Tales by Thomas Frederick Crane.

This is a combination of ATU 210 Rooster, Hen, Duck, Pin, and Needle and ATU 20 Animals on a Pilgrimage.

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

THE COCK THAT WISHED TO BECOME POPE

(woodcut of cockrel)

It occurred once to the cock to go to Rome and have himself elected Pope. So he started out, and on the way found a letter, which he took with him. 

The hen met him, and asked: "Mr. Cock, where are you going?" 

"I am going to Rome, to be Pope." 

"Will you take me with you?" she asked. 

"First I must look in my letter," said the cock, and looked at his letter. "Come along; if I become Pope, you can be the Popess." 

So Mr. Cock and Mrs. Hen continued their journey and met a cat, who said: "Mr. Cock and Mrs. Hen, where are you going?" 

"We are going to Rome, and wish to be Pope and Popess." 

"Will you take me with you?" 

"Wait until I look in my letter," said the cock, and glanced at it. "Very well; come along; you can be our lady's-maid." 

After a while they met a weasel, who asked: "Where are you going, Mr. Cock, Mrs. Hen, and Mrs. Cat?" 

"We are going to Rome, where I intend to become Pope," answered the cock. 

"Will you take me with you?" 

"Wait until I look in my letter," said he. When the cock looked in his letter, he said: "Very well; come along."

So the four animals continued their journey together towards Rome. At night-fall they came to a little house where lived an old witch, who had just gone out. So each animal chose a place to suit him. The weasel sat himself in the cupboard, the cat on the hearth in the warm ashes, and the cock and the hen flew up on the beam over the door.

When the old witch came home she wanted to get a light out of the cupboard, and the weasel struck her in the face with his tail. 

Then she wanted to light the candle, and went to the hearth. She took the bright eyes of the cat for live coals and tried to light the match by them, and hit the cat in the eyes. The cat jumped in her face and scratched her frightfully. 

When the cock heard all the noise he began to crow loudly. Then the witch saw that they were no ghosts, but harmless domestic animals, and took a stick and drove all four out of the house.

The cat and the weasel had no longer any desire to prolong their journey; but the cock and hen continued their way.

When they reached Rome they entered an open church, and the cock said to the sexton: "Have all the bells rung, for now I will be Pope." 

"Good!" answered the sexton; "that may be, but just come in here." 

Then he led the cock and the hen into the sacristry, shut the door, and caught them both. After he had caught them he twisted their necks and put them in the pot. Then he invited his friends, and they ate with great glee Mr. Cock and Mrs. Hen.

NOTES

(Sicilian, Gonzenbach, No. 66, Von dem Hahne, der Pabst werden wollte)

Köhler, in his notes to this story, gives parallels from various parts of Europe. To these may be added Asbjørnsen and Moe, Nos. 42, 102 [Dasent, Tales from the Fjeld, p. 35, "The Greedy Cat"]. Comp. Halliwell, p. 29, "The story of Chicken-licken." A French version is in the Romania, No. 32, p. 554 (Cosquin, No. 45), where copious references to this class of stories may be found. Add to these those by Köhler in Zeitschrift für rom. Phil. III. p. 617.

September 12. Story of the Day: Psyche Lives

Today's story is one that I wrote, inspired by the story of Cupid and Psyche in Apuleius's Golden Ass (see details in the author's note below). I first published the story in my class blog for Fall 2018, and I've copied it here.

What I did was to insert a cumulative chain of mourners when Psyche dies, or seems to die.

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

Psyche Lives

Psyche knew she had to sit down and catch her breath before making her way back up Mount Olympus to Venus's home. The alabaster box had been heavy even when empty, and after Proserpine filled it as Venus commanded, Psyche could barely lift it: who would have thought that beauty would be something so heavy to carry?

Taking pity on the girl, Proserpine had made a kind of sling and strapped the box to Psyche's back. Psyche now untied the sling while reaching behind her back to catch hold of the box, careful not to drop it. She placed the box on the grass, and then she sank to the ground, leaning against a tree, grateful for the shade it provided.

As Psyche felt the cool of the breeze, she thought of the Zephyr who had carried her back and forth to her husband's magical palace. She pressed her hands against her belly, and she felt the life stirring inside her. She sighed deeply and said out loud, though there was no one there to listen, "I swear by the life of my unborn child that I will bring this box of beauty back to Venus as she commanded."

That was when she heard it.

The humming. No, not a humming, but instead a kind of whisper. Calling to her. Commanding her.

"Open the box, Psyche."

"Open the box."

"Open it."

What harm could it do, Psyche thought. So she leaned forward and lifted the lid of the box, meaning to just take a quick peek inside to see the beauty that Proserpine had placed there.

But alas, it was not beauty in the box at all! It was sleep, the sleep of death. Psyche did not even have time to realize what she had done; as soon as she opened the box, she collapsed. Psyche was dead.

The tree, who had been watching all along, dropped its leaves in grief.

A bird flew by and when she saw the tree had dropped all its leaves, she asked, "What is wrong with you, Tree?"

"Poor Psyche opened the box, and now she is dead," said the tree, "so I have now dropped all my leaves."

The bird then shed all her feathers and flew sadly away.

When the goatherd saw the featherless bird, he called out, "What is wrong with you, Bird?"

"Poor Psyche opened the box, and now she is dead," said the bird, "and the tree dropped its leaves, so I have now shed my feathers."

The goatherd broke his staff and sat down on the ground.

When the goat saw the shepherd's broken staff, he asked, "What is wrong with you, Shepherd?"

"Poor Psyche opened the box, and now she is dead," said the goatherd, "and the tree dropped its leaves, and the bird shed her feathers, so I have now broken my staff."

The goat threw away his horns and ran to the stream.

When the stream saw the goat without his horns, he asked, "What is wrong with you, Goat?"

"Poor Psyche opened the box, and now she is dead," said the goat, "and the tree dropped its leaves, and the bird shed her feathers, and the shepherd broke his staff, so I have now thrown away my horns."

Hearing this news, the waters of the stream all dried up.

When the cook came to the stream to wash out her soup pot and saw there was no water, she asked, "What is wrong with you, Stream?"

"Poor Psyche opened the box, and now she is dead," said the stream, "and the tree dropped its leaves, and the bird shed her feathers, and the shepherd broke his staff, and the goat threw away his horns, so now my waters have all dried up."

The cook broke her soup pot and shouted, "Heaven help us, O gods and goddesses! Poor Psyche opened the box, and now she is dead, and the tree dropped its leaves, and the bird shed her feathers, and the shepherd broke his staff, and the goat threw away his horns, and the stream's waters dried up, and now I have broken my soup pot."

The cook's words made their way up to heaven, and Venus cackled out loud, rejoicing at the news. Her plan had succeeded!

But her son Cupid was distraught. In his grief, he burst through the door of the room where his mother had confined him and rushed down to the earth. There he found Psyche lying on the grass, the wicked box by her side.

"Psyche," he moaned, as he gathered her up in his arms. "What have you done, my poor girl? Why did you have to open the box?"

And as Cupid wept over her lifeless body, his tears fell on her face. Cupid had never wept before (though he had made many others weep), and he did not know the power of his tears. As those tears wet her face, Psyche's eyes opened, and she gazed upon him with wonder and love. She was alive!

As soon as the tree saw what had happened, it regained its leaves and shouted, "O Bird, Psyche lives!"

The bird grew back her feathers and shouted, "O Shepherd, Psyche lives!"

The shepherd's staff was restored and he shouted, "O Goat, Psyche lives!"

The goat got back his horns and shouted, "O Stream, Psyche lives!"

The stream's waters began to flow, and it shouted, "O Cook, Psyche lives!"

Then the soup pot was made whole again, whereupon the cook ran back home to begin preparing a wedding feast for Cupid and his darling Psyche.

And that is how Cupid and Psyche were married, and had a child named Joy, and then another named Harmony, and another, and another, I don't remember all the names, and so lived happily ever after.

Author's Notes

I based this story on the final task that Venus gave to Psyche, sending her down into the Underworld to get a jar of beauty form the goddess Proserpine (Persephone). But what Venus really instructed Proserpine to do was to put a fatal sleep into that jar, so Psyche falls into a "Stygian sleep" when she opens it to take a look; I added the part about a mysterious voice (Venus? the box itself? who knows) commanding her to open it. In the original version, Cupid comes down and just wipes the sleep away and puts it back into the jar.

I also added the part about Cupid's tears just because I thought that was more dramatic. In the original version, he doesn't grieve over Psyche; he just wakes her up. In my story, he really thought she was dead, like all the other mourners in the chain. In Apuleius, they had one child named Pleasure; I gave them more children. Also, I made the jar into a box because Waterhouse's painting used a box.

Bibliography



Image Credit

Psyche Opening the Golden Box by John William Waterhouse.

September 6. Story of the Day: Munachar and Manachar

This story is from Celtic Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs with illustrations by John Batten, and Jacobs in turn used Irish and Scottish sources.

This is another example of ATU 2030 The old woman and her pig.

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

 MUNACHAR AND MANACHAR

THERE once lived a Munachar and a Manachar, a long time ago, and it is a long time since it was, and if they were alive now they would not be alive then. They went out together to pick raspberries, and as many as Munachar used to pick Manachar used to eat. Munachar said he must go look for a rod to make a gad to hang Manachar, who ate his raspberries every one; and he came to the rod. "What news the day?" said the rod. "It is my own news that I'm seeking. Going looking for a rod, a rod to make a gad, a gad to hang Manachar, who ate my raspberries every one."

"You will not get me," said the rod, "until you get an axe to cut me." He came to the axe. "What news today?" said the axe. "It's my own news I'm seeking. Going looking for an axe, an axe to cut a rod, a rod to make a gad, a gad to hang Manachar, who ate my raspberries every one."

"You will not get me," said the axe, "until you get a flag to edge me." He came to the flag. "What news today?" says the flag. "It's my own news I'm seeking. Going looking for a flag, flag to edge axe, axe to cut a rod, a rod to make a gad, a gad to hang Manachar, who ate my raspberries every one."

"You will not get me," says the flag, "till you get water to wet me." He came to the water. "What news today?" says the water. "It's my own news that I'm seeking. Going looking for water, water to wet flag to edge axe, axe to cut a rod, a rod to make a gad, a gad to hang Manachar, who ate my raspberries every one."

''You will not get me," said the water, "until you get a deer who will swim me." He came to the deer. "What news to-day?" says the deer. "It's my own news I'm seeking. Going looking for a deer, deer to swim water, water to wet flag, flag to edge axe, axe to cut a rod, a rod to make a gad, a gad to hang Manachar, who ate my raspberries every one."

"You will not get me," said the deer, ''until you get a hound who will hunt me." He came to the hound. "What news to-day?" says the hound. "It's my own news I'm seeking. Going looking for a hound, hound to hunt deer, deer to swim water, water to wet flag, flag to edge axe, axe to cut a rod, a rod to make a gad, a gad to hang Manachar, who ate my raspberries every one."

"You will not get me," said the hound, ''until you get a bit of butter to put in my claw." He came to the butter. "What news to-day?" says the butter. "It's my own news I'm seeking. Going looking for butter, butter to go in claw of hound, hound to hunt deer, deer to swim water, water to wet flag, flag to edge axe, axe to cut a rod, a rod to make a gad, a gad to hang Manachar, who ate my raspberries every one."

"You will not get me," said the butter, "until you get a cat who shall scrape me." He came to the cat. "What news to-day?" said the cat. "It's my own news I'm seeking. Going looking for a cat, cat to scrape butter, butter to go in claw of hound, hound to hunt deer, deer to swim water, water to wet flag, flag to edge axe, axe to cut a rod, a rod to make a gad, gad to hang Manachar, who ate my raspberries every one."

"You will not get me," said the cat, "until you will get milk which you will give me." He came to the cow. "What news to-day?" said the cow. "It's my own news I'm seeking. Going looking for a cow, cow to give me milk, milk I will give to the cat, cat to scrape butter, butter to go in claw of hound, hound to hunt deer, deer to swim water, water to wet flag, flag to edge axe, axe to cut a rod, a rod to make a gad, a gad to hang Manachar, who ate my raspberries every one."

"You will not get any milk from me," said the cow, "until you bring me a whisp of straw from those threshers yonder." He came to the threshers. "What news to-day?" said the threshers. "It's my own news I'm seeking. Going looking for a whisp of straw from ye to give to the cow, the cow to give me milk, milk I will give to the cat, cat to scrape butter, butter to go in claw of hound, hound to hunt deer, deer to swim water, water to wet flag, flag to edge axe, axe to cut a rod, a rod to make a gad, a gad to hang Manachar, who ate my raspberries every one."

"You will not get any whisp of straw from us," said the threshers, "until you bring us the makings of a cake from the miller over yonder." He came to the miller. "What news to-day?" said the miller. "It's my own news I'm seeking. Going looking for the makings of a cake which I will give to the threshers, the threshers to give me a whisp of straw, the whisp of straw I will give to the cow, the cow to give me milk, milk I will give to the cat, cat to scrape butter, butter to go in claw of hound, hound to hunt deer, deer to swim water, water to wet flag, flag to edge axe, axe to cut a rod, a rod to make a gad, a gad to hang Manachar, who ate my raspberries every one."

"You will not get any makings of a cake from me," said the miller, "till you bring me the full of that sieve of water from the river over there."

He took the sieve in his hand and went over to the river, but as often as ever he would stoop and fill it with water, the moment he raised it the water would run out of it again, and sure, if he had been there from that day till this, he never could have filled it. A crow went flying by him, over his head. "Daub! daub!" said the crow. "My blessings on ye, then," said Munachar, "but it's the good advice you have," and he took the red clay and the daub that was by the brink, and he rubbed it to the bottom of the sieve, until all the holes were filled, and then the sieve held the water, and he brought the water to the miller, and the miller gave him the makings of a cake, and he gave the makings of the cake to the threshers, and the threshers gave him a whisp of straw, and he gave the whisp of Straw to the cow, and the cow gave him milk, the milk he gave to the cat, the cat scraped the butter, the butter went into the claw of the hound, the hound hunted the deer, the deer swam the water, the water wet the flag, the flag sharpened the axe, the axe cut the rod, and the rod made a gad, and when he had it ready to hang Manachar he found that Manachar had BURST.

 NOTES

Source.—I have combined the Irish version given by Dr. Hyde in his Leabhar Sgeul., and translated by him for Mr. Yeats' Irish Folk and Fairy Tales, and the Scotch version given in Gaelic and English by Campbell, No. viii.

Parallels.—Two English versions are given in my Eng. Fairy Tales, No. iv., "The Old Woman and her Pig," and xxxiv., "The Cat and the Mouse," where see notes for other variants in these isles. M. Cosquin, in his notes to No. xxxiv., of his Contes de Lorraine, t. ii. pp.35-41, has drawn attention to an astonishing number of parallels scattered through all Europe and the East (cf, too, Crane, Ital. Pop. Tales, notes, 372-5). One of the earliest allusions to the jingle is in Don Quixote, pt. I, c. xvi.: "Y asi como suele decirse el gato al rato, el rato á la cuerda, la cuerda al palo, daba el arriero á Sancho, Sancho á la moza, la moza á él, el ventero á la moza." As I have pointed out, it is used to this day by Bengali women at the end of each folk-tale they recite (L. B. Day, Folk-Tales of Bengal, Pref.).

Remarks.—Two ingenious suggestions have been made as to the origin of this curious jingle, both connecting it with religious ceremonies: (1) Something very similar occurs in Chaldaic at the end of the Jewish Hagada, or domestic ritual for the Passover night. It has, however, been shown that this does not occur in early MSS. or editions, and was only added at the end to amuse the children after the service, and was therefore only a translation or adaptation of a current German form of the jingle; (2) M. Basset, in the Revue des Traditions poplaires, 1890, t. v. p.549, has suggested that it is a survival of the old Greek custom at the sacrifice of the Bouphonia for the priest to contend that he had not slain the sacred beast, the axe declares that the handle did it, the handle transfers the guilt further, and so on. This is ingenious, but fails to give any reasonable account of the diffusion of the jingle in countries which have had no historic connection with classical Greece.

September 3. Story of the Day: Garden of Eden

Today's story is one that I wrote, inspired by legends you can find in Louis Ginzberg's Legends of the Jews (see details in the author's note below). I first published the story in my class blog for Fall 2018, and I've copied it here.

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

Who's to Blame in the Garden of Eden?

God went looking in the Garden for Adam and Eve, but he did not see them because they were hiding. God knew what this meant: they had eaten the figs from the Tree of Knowledge in the midst of the Garden. So now they were hiding, ashamed to face him.

God had expected this might happen, and he knew he would have to punish them. He had told the man Adam that he would die if he ate the figs that came from that tree. But he wanted to give Adam and Eve a chance to confess what they had done; he would forgive them if they admitted to eating the figs. If not, well... so be it.

God called out to Adam, "Adam, where are you?"

Adam heard God's voice from where he and Eve were hiding in the trees, awkwardly pressing fig leaves against their bodies, trying to hide their nakedness.

"I am hiding here in the trees," Adam shouted. Eve stared at him, dumbfounded. Why would Adam say that? Now God was going to find them for sure.

"Why are you hiding?" God asked him. "Tell me what happened."

Adam said, "That woman, the one you gave me, she gave me fruit from the Tree of Knowledge, and I ate it." Eve was furious: Adam was going to try to blame it all on her!

"Eve," said God, "what have you done?"

Eve shouted, "The serpent tricked me; he made me eat the figs."

Then God called out to the serpent. "Serpent, explain yourself!"

The serpent hissed, "It was all that other female'sssssssss fault; I wasssssss jussssssst following ordersssssss."

As the snake was still hissing, Adam's first wife burst forth in a flash of light and stood there staring God face to face.

"Okay, I did it," Lilith said defiantly. "I told the serpent to trick Eve into eating the figs. But it wasn't my idea: Samael put me up to it."

God had suspected Samael might be involved. He was one of the worst troublemakers among the ranks of the angels.

"Samael!" God shouted.

Thus summoned, Samael came swooping down from the heavens, alighting on the ground next to Lilith.

"That's right," he said. "I asked Lilith to help me get revenge on Adam because he cooked and ate my child!" The angel was still carrying the empty stewpot in which Adam had cooked the little boy's corpse.

Adam then burst forth out of the trees, dropping his fig leaves as he ran. "It's not my fault!" he shouted. "Eve told Samael she would take care of the baby, but then she just went off and left him lying there, and that's why he wouldn't stop crying, and that's why I killed him. But it's all Eve's fault, not mine!"

So Eve also came rushing out from behind the trees. "You're always blaming me for everything," she screamed, "but it wasn't my fault. I was trying to get supper ready before you came home, and I had to go get more wood to put on the fire."

Looking up angrily at God, she added, "This all happened because the fire is so greedy for wood; it's the fire's fault, not mine."

"Fire," God said patiently, "what do you have to say about all this?"

A flicker of flame rose up from the ground and whispered, "It's not my fault that I am greedy for wood. That is how you made me, God. This is really all your fault."

God had not expected this. What it really his fault? God thought about what the fire had said, and he realized that it might indeed be his fault after all. He should have been more careful when he created the fire, but what's done is done; God could not unmake what he had made.

"I'm sorry, fire," he said. "It is in your nature to eat the wood. You are not to blame."

"It's okay, God," said the fire. And then he added, "And I'm sorry you had to go get more wood to feed me, Eve."

Eve said, "I accept your apology, fire."

And so the fire vanished.

Then Eve looked pointedly at Adam.

"Well," Adam said, "I shouldn't have blamed you for leaving the baby alone. And I'm sorry I went and killed him, Samael. That was wrong of me."

Samael was still angry, but he nodded at Adam and said, "Lilith was only doing what I told her. I shouldn't have used her to get my revenge like that." He then took flight, vanishing into the sky as dark storm clouds gathered in his wake. Samael would visit the humans again in his own time.

Next it was Lilith's turn. "I admit I had a grudge against Adam and Eve, but that doesn't mean I should just do whatever Samael tells me." She turned to the serpent and added, "Serpent, I am sorry I got you involved in all of this."

The serpent waved his head slowly up and down in acknowledgment of Lilith's words as he hissed an apology to Eve. "Sssssso sssssssorry for what I did."

Then Lilith and the serpent both vanished; only God, Adam, and Eve were left.

And that's how Eve found herself apologizing to Adam. "I didn't want to be the only one in trouble, so I made you eat the figs too. I'm sorry."

Adam hugged Eve and said, "I'm sorry, too."

Then they both looked up at God, wondering what would happen next.

God smiled and said, "I think we all learned something from the Tree of Knowledge today. Things will be different from now on, but we'll figure something out to make it all work. Let me go write down some notes about all of this and get back to you."

God eventually returned with the Torah, which he gave to Adam and Eve. But that's the beginning of another story, and the end of this one.

Author's Notes

I always thought that the scene in Genesis with God, Adam, Eve, and the serpent was like a chain-of-blame, so I wanted to extend that chain. To do that, I used Lilith (Adam's first wife before Eve), and I also used the legend of how Adam killed Samael's infant son. In that legend, Samael left the baby in Eve's care, but Adam killed the baby because he wouldn't stop crying. But the corpse kept crying, so Adam chopped up the corpse, and still it kept crying, so he cooked the pieces in a stew, and then he and Eve ate the stew. Yet the baby still kept crying from inside their hearts, so God made the Torah to comfort them.

I took the idea of Samael and the baby, and also the Torah, so that in my story, instead of expelling Adam and Eve from Eden, God is going to give them the Torah, like in the Samael legend (and afterwards the book passes to Noah and then to Enoch and eventually to King Solomon). I also reversed the chain-of-blame into a chain-of-apology. I was inspired to do that from the Jewish legends that say God really did want Adam to just honestly admit what he had done, and it was only when Adam refused to admit what he had done that God resolved to punish him.

The detail that the fruit of the tree was a fig comes from Ginzberg's book of Jewish legends; that's why they used fig leaves to cover themselves. The Wikipedia article about Forbidden Fruit discusses various traditions about just what the fruit was: quice, apple, grape, fig, or pomegranate (plus two pretty weird ideas about wheat and mushrooms).

Bibliography.

The Holy Book -- Lilith -- The Punishment which all come from The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg.

Images

Sculpture of Adam and Eve from MaxPixel.
Eve and the Serpent by Henri Rousseau.
A vision by William Blake. This is not a depiction of Samael, but I liked the idea that this could be Samael looking into the pot which held the remains of his son. I cropped and flipped the image.
Medieval illustration by Cunradus Schlapperitzi at the New York Public Library.

August 31. Story of the Day: Wee Bannock

This story comes from More English Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs, illustrated by John Batten. Jacobs' source in turn is Chambers's Popular Rhymes of Scotland.

It is a version of the ATU 2025. The Fleeing Pancake. Or, in this case: a bannock. You can read about bannocks at Wikipedia.

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

THE WEE BANNOCK

GRANNIE, grannie, come tell us the story of the wee bannock.'

'Hout, childer, ye've heard it a hundred times afore. I needn't tell it over again.'

'Ah! but, grannie, it's such a fine one. You must tell it. Just once.'

'Well, well, if ye'll all promise to be good, I'll tell it ye again.'

 ~ ~ ~

There lived an old man and an old woman at the side of a burn. They had two cows, five hens, and a cock, a cat and two kittens. The old man looked after the cows, and the old wife span on the distaff. The kittens oft gripped at the old wife's spindle, as it tussled over the hearthstone. 'Sho, sho,' she would say, 'go away'; and so it tussled about.

One day, after breakfast, she thought she would have a bannock. So she baked two oatmeal bannocks, and set them on to the fire to harden. After a while, the old man came in, and sat down beside the fire, and takes one of the bannocks, and snaps it through the middle. When the other one sees this, it runs off as fast as it could, and the old wife after it, with the spindle in the one hand, and the distaff in the other.

But the wee bannock ran away and out of sight, and ran till it came to a pretty large thatched house, and it ran boldly up inside to the fireside; and there were three tailors sitting on a big bench.

When they saw the wee bannock come in, they jumped up, and got behind the goodwife, that was carding tow by the fire.  'Hout,' quoth she, 'be no afeard; it's but a wee bannock. Grip it, and I'll give ye a sup of milk with it.'

Up she gets with the tow-cards and the tailor with the goose, and the two 'prentices, the one with the big shears, and the other with the lawbrod; but it dodged them, and ran round about the fire; and one of the 'prentices, thinking to snap it with the shears, fell into the ashes. The tailor cast the goose, and the goodwife the tow-cards; but it wouldn't do.

The bannock ran away, and ran till it came to a wee house at the roadside; and in it runs, and there was a weaver sitting at the loom, and the wife winding a clue of yarn. 'Tibby,' quoth he, 'what's that?'

'Oh,' quoth she, 'it's a wee bannock.'

'It's well come,' quoth he, 'for our porrage were but thin today. Grip it, my woman; grip it.'

'Ay,' quoth she; 'what recks! That's a clever bannock. Catch it, Willie; catch it, man.'

'Hout,' quoth Willie, 'cast the clue at it.'

But the bannock dodged round about, and off it went, and over the hill, like a new-tarred sheep or a mad cow. And forward it runs to the neat-house, to the fireside; and there was the goodwife churning. 'Come away, wee bannock,' quoth she; 'I'll have cream and bread today.'

But the wee bannock dodged round about the churn, and the wife after it, and in the hurry she had near-hand overturned the churn. And before she got it set right again, the wee bannock was off and down the brae to the mill; and in it ran.

The miller was sifting meal in the trough; but, looking up: 'Aye,' quoth he, 'it's a sign of plenty when ye're running about, and nobody to look after ye. But I like a bannock and cheese. Come your way hither, and I'll give ye a night's quarters.'

But the bannock wouldn't trust itself with the miller and his cheese. So it turned and ran its way out; but the miller didn't fash his head with it.

So it toddled away and ran till it came to the smithy; and in it runs, and up to the anvil. The smith was making horse-nails. Quoth he: 'I like a glass of good ale and a well-toasted bannock. Come your way in by here.'

But the bannock was frightened when it heard about the ale, and turned and was off as hard as it could, and the smith after it, and cast the hammer. But it missed, and the bannock was out of sight in a crack, and ran till it came to a farmhouse with a good peat-stack at the end of it. Inside it runs to the fireside. The goodman was cloving lint, and the goodwife heckling. 'O Janet,' quoth he, 'there's a wee bannock; I'll have the half of it.'

'Well, John, I'll have the other half. Hit it over the back with the clove.'

But the bannock played dodgings. 'Hout, tout,' quoth the wife, and made the heckle flee at it.

But it was too clever for her. And off and up the burn it ran to the next house, and rolled its way to the fireside. The goodwife was stirring the soup, and the goodman plaiting sprit-binnings for the cows. 'Ho, Jock,' quoth the goodwife, 'here come. You're always crying about a wee bannock. Here's one. Come in, haste ye, and I'll help ye to grip it.'

'Ay, mother, where is it?'

'See there. Run over on that side.'

But the bannock ran in behind the goodman's chair. Jock fell among the sprits. The goodman cast a binning, and the goodwife the spurtle. But it was too clever for Jock and her both. It was off and out of sight in a crack, and through among the whins, and down the road to the next house, and in and snug by the fireside. The folk were just sitting down to their soup, and the goodwife scraping the pot. 'Look,' quoth she, 'there's a wee bannock come in to warm itself at our fireside.'

'Shut the door,' quoth the goodman, 'and we'll try to get a grip of it.'

When the bannock heard that, it ran out of the house and they after it with their spoons, and the goodman shied his hat. But it rolled away and ran, and ran, till it came to another house; and when it went in the folk were just going to their beds. The goodman was taking off his breeches, and the goodwife raking the fire.

'What's that?' quoth he.

'Oh,' quoth she, 'it's a wee bannock.'

Quoth he, 'I could eat the half of it.'

'Grip it,' quoth the wife, 'and I'll have a bit, too. Cast your breeches at it!' The goodman shied his breeches, and had nearly smothered it. But it wriggled out and ran, and the goodman after it without his breeches; and there was a clean chase over the craft park, and in among the whins; and the goodman lost it, and had to come away, trotting home half naked.

But now it was grown dark, and the wee bannock couldn't see; but it went into the side of a big whin bush, and into a fox's hole. The fox had had no meat for two days. 'O welcome, welcome,' quoth the fox, and snapped it in two in the middle. And that was the end of the wee bannock.

NOTES

SOURCE Chambers's Popular Rhymes of Scotland. I have attempted an impossibility, I fear, in trying to anglicise, but the fun of the original tempted me. There still remain several technical trade terms requiring elucidation. I owe the following to the kindness of the Rev. Mr Todd Martin, of Belfast. Lawtrod = lap board on which the tailor irons; tow cards, the comb with which tow is carded; the clove, a heavy wooden knife for breaking up the flax. Heckling is combing it with a heckle or wooden comb; binnings are halters for cattle made of spit or rushes. Spurtle = spoon; whins = gorse.
PARALLELS This is clearly a variant of Johnny-cake = journey-cake, No. 28, where see Notes.

REMARKS But here the interest is with the pursuers rather than with the pursued. The subtle characterisation of the various occupations reaches a high level of artistic merit. Mr Barrie himself could scarcely have succeeded better in a very difficult task.

August 30. Story of the Day: Metamorphoses of a Flower

Today's story is one that I wrote, inspired by this story: The Man in the Moon from Laos Folk-Lore of Farther India by Katherine Neville Fleeson. I first published the story in my class blog for Fall 2018, and I've copied it here.

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

Metamorphoses of a Flower

There was once a field of flowers that grew tall on strong stalks, their bright yellow petals surrounding a whorl of seeds. As the wind blew, the flowers swayed with the wind, and so they were called "windflowers," because they followed the wind.

But there was one flower who was unhappy because she had to sway whichever way the wind was blowing. She watched the bumblebees and butterflies and birds in the sky, and she saw that they went their own way. Instead of petals, they had wings, and the flower wished that she had wings too.

"O Goddess," she prayed, "I do not want to be a flower anymore. I want to be the bumblebee who goes her own way."

Hearing her prayer, the Goddess turned the flower into a bumblebee.

The bumblebee's wings buzzed as she zoomed up and down, left and right, racing back and forth over the field of flowers. Then she visited other fields with other flowers, drinking nectar and gathering pollen to take back to the hive. The next day was much the same, and the day after that, and the day after that, as the bee flew back and forth from the hive to the different fields of flowers, loaded down with pollen in her pollen baskets.

And so the bee grew tired. She grew very tired. She had never known what it was to be tired when she was a flower, standing tall on her stalk. The bee no longer felt the joy of freedom as she zoomed up and down, buzzing high and low, endlessly looking for pollen to take back to the hive.

Then one day, as she zoomed through a farmyard on her way from one field of flowers to another, she looked down and saw a cat sleeping contentedly in the sunshine. When she zoomed through the farmyard on her way back to the hive, she saw that the cat was still lying there, fast asleep. "What a life!" thought the bee.

Returning to the field of flowers later that day, she buzzed through the farmyard and saw the cat drinking from a bowl of milk. The bee zoomed in closer and watched as the cat lapped up all the milk and then, again, lay down to sleep.

"O Goddess," prayed the bumblebee, "I do not want to be a bumblebee anymore. I want to be the cat who eats and sleeps and does not have to work!"

Hearing her prayer, the Goddess turned the bumblebee into a cat.

The cat spent her days happily sleeping and eating. Occasionally she chased a mouse in the barn, and sometimes she taunted the chickens. Mostly, though, she slept. All day long.

But at night, the cat roamed, making her way through the darkness by the light of the moon in the sky. At first the light of the moon was very faint, only a sliver among the stars. But as each night passed, the moon grew larger and larger, and its light grew brighter and brighter. The cat was in awe of this change in the moon. "I stay the same size all the time," she thought. "But the moon grows bigger and bigger."

Thus, staring longingly up at the full moon in the sky, the cat prayed, "O Goddess, I do not want to be a cat anymore who must stay the same size. I want to be the moon!"

Hearing her prayer, the Goddess turned the cat into the moon.

The moon then stared with her great eye over half the world, and she felt the eyes of all the night creatures staring back at her. "I am the great light of the night," thought the moon. "What grandeur! What power!"

But then the moon realized that she was very cold. Very cold indeed. "How can this be?" she wondered. "I am the light of the night, but there is no fire in me at all."

Shivering in the cold of space, the moon sadly realized the truth of things: the moonlight was not her light at all. It was the light of the sun, made weak and pale as it bounced off her surface on its way down to the earth.

As the moon gazed at the sun off in the distance, burning bright with its own inner fire, she realized she had made a great mistake. "O Goddess," cried the moon, "I do not want to be the moon anymore, with no light or fire of my own. I want to be the sun!"

Hearing her prayer, the Goddess turned the moon into the sun.

And now she had her own light and fire, flames rising up through her entire being, twisting and exploding in bursts of heat, radiating waves of explosive energy, never stopping.

It was all too much. She screamed, "Help me, Goddess, please! I do not want to be the sun!"

And so the Goddess took pity on the sun, and turned her back into a flower, a flower in a field of flowers that grew tall on strong stalks, their bright yellow petals surrounding a whorl of seeds.

But this flower no longer blew with the wind as before. Instead, as the sun moved across the sky each day, this flower turned her face to gaze upon the sun. And so we call her "sunflower," because she follows the sun in the sky.

Author's Note. The original story from Laos is about an unhappy blacksmith who becomes a stone, who becomes a stonecutter, who becomes the sun and finally becomes the moon, which is how we get the "man in the moon." To come up with my own story, I kept the same theme of dissatisfaction and transformation, but I wanted to not have any human characters in the chain, and I wanted it to be a circle-chain that goes all the way back to where it starts. I also wanted it to be an origin story, so I made it the origin of the sunflower: at first the flower is a "windflower" (which I made up, but then I learned at Wikipedia there really are flowers called windflowers!), and then at the end it is a sunflower. I used some repetition in the story in the formulaic prayers and the Goddess's actions to give it something like a "folktale" style. I was also thinking of having a cow there (the bee wants to be a cow, and then the cow wants to be a cat), but I could tell the story was becoming too long already, so: no cow.

Image sources: Bee and sunflower at Pexels. Cat and moon at Pixabay. Solar flares at Pixabay. Sunflower at Pxhere.