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.

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

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.

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 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 19. Story of the Day: Johnny-Cake

This story comes from Joseph Jacobs' English Fairy Tales.

It's an example of ATU 2025. The Fleeing Pancake.

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

Johnny-Cake

ONCE upon a time there was an old man, and an old woman, and a little boy. One morning the old woman made a Johnny-cake, and put it in the oven to bake. 'You watch the Johnny-cake while your father and I go out to work in the garden.' So the old man and the old woman went out and began to hoe potatoes, and left the little boy to tend the oven. But he didn't watch it all the time, and all of a sudden he heard a noise, and he looked up and the oven door popped open, and out of the oven jumped Johnny-cake, and went rolling along end over end, towards the open door of the house.

The little boy ran to shut the door, but Johnny-cake was too quick for him and rolled through the door, down the steps, and out into the road long before the little boy could catch him. The little boy ran after him as fast as he could clip it, crying out to his father and mother, who heard the uproar, and threw down their hoes and gave chase too. But Johnny-cake outran all three a long way, and was soon out of sight, while they had to sit down, all out of breath, on a bank to rest.

On went Johnny-cake, and by and by he came to two well-diggers who looked up from their work and called out: 'Where ye going, Johnny-cake?'

He said: 'I've outrun an old man, and an old woman, and a little boy, and I can outrun you, too-o-o!'

'Ye can, can ye? We'll see about that?' said they; and they threw down their picks and ran after him, but couldn't catch up with him, and soon they had to sit down by the roadside to rest.

On ran Johnny-cake, and by and by he came to two ditch-diggers who were digging a ditch. 'Where ye going, Johnnycake?' said they. He said: 'I've outrun an old man, and an old woman, and a little boy, and two well-diggers, and I can outrun you, too-o-o!'

'Ye can, can ye? We'll see about that!' said they; and they threw down their spades, and ran after him, too. But Johnnycake soon outstripped them also, and seeing they could never catch him, they gave up the chase and sat down to rest.

On went Johnny-cake, and by and by he came to a bear.

The bear said: 'Where are ye going, Johnny-cake?'

He said: 'I've outrun an old man, and an old woman, and a little boy, and two well-diggers, and two ditch-diggers, and I can outrun you, too-o-o!'

'Ye can, can ye?' growled the bear. 'We'll see about that!' and trotted as fast as his legs could carry him after Johnny-cake, who never stopped to look behind him. Before long the bear was left so far behind that he saw he might as well give up the hunt first as last, so he stretched himself out by the roadside to rest.

On went Johnny-cake, and by and by he came to a wolf. The wolf said: 'Where ye going, Johnny-cake?'

He said: 'I've outrun an old man, and an old woman, and a little boy, and two well-diggers, and two ditch-diggers, and a bear, and I can outrun you, too-o-o!'

'Ye can, can ye?' snarled the wolf'. 'We'll see about that!'

And he set into a gallop after Johnny-cake, who went on and on so fast that the wolf, too, saw there was no hope of overtaking him, and he, too, lay down to rest.

On went Johnny-cake, and by and by he came to a fox that lay quietly in a corner of the fence. The fox called out in a sharp voice, but without getting up: 'Where ye going, Johnnycake?'

He said: 'I've outrun an old man, and an old woman, and a little boy, and two well-diggers, and two ditch-diggers, a bear, and a wolf, and I can outrun you, too-o-o!'

The fox said: 'I can't quite hear you, Johnny-cake; won't you come a little closer?' turning his head a little to one side.

Johnny-cake stopped his race for the first time, and went a little closer, and called out in a very loud voice: 'I've outrun an old man, and an old woman, and a little boy, and two well-diggers, and two ditch-diggers, and a bear, and a wolf, and I can outrun you, too-o-o.'

'Can't quite hear you; won't you come a little closer?' said the fox in a feeble voice, as he stretched out his neck towards Johnny-cake, and put one paw behind his ear.

Johnny-cake came up close, and leaning towards the fox screamed out: 'I'VE OUTRUN AN OLD MAN, AND AN OLD WOMAN, AND A LITTLE BOY, AND TWO WELL-DIGGERS, AND TWO DITCH-DIGGERS, AND A BEAR, AND A WOLF, AND I CAN OUTRUN YOU, TOO-O-O!'

'You can, can you?' yelped the fox, and he snapped up the Johnny-cake in his sharp teeth in the twinkling of an eye.


NOTES

SOURCE American Journal of Folk-Lore, ii, 60 (cf. No. for July 1891).


PARALLELS Another variant is given in the same Journal, p. 277, where reference is also made to a version, 'The Gingerbread Boy', in St Nicholas, May 1875. Chambers gives two versions of the same story, under the title 'The Wee Bunnock', the first of which is one of the most dramatic and humorous of folk-tales. Unfortunately, the Scotticisms are so frequent as to render the Droll practically untranslatable. I have, however, made an attempt in More English Fairy Tales, 57. Also in Ireland as 'The Wonderful Cake' (Kennedy, Fireside Stories, p. 19). 'The Fate of Mr Jack Sparrow' in Uncle Remus is similar to that of Johnny-Cake.

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.

Jacobs. News!

From More English Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs.

This story is classified as ATU 2014. Chains Involving Contraditions or Extremes.

NEWS!

MR G. Ha! Steward, how are you, my old boy? How do things go on at home?

STEWARD. Bad enough, your honour; the magpie's dead!

MR G. Poor mag! so he's gone. How came he to die?

STEWARD. Overate himself, sir.

MR G. Did he indeed? A greedy dog. Why, what did he get that he liked so well?

STEWARD. Horseflesh; he died of eating horseflesh.

MR G. How came he to get so much horseflesh?

STEWARD. All your father's horses, sir.

MR G. What! are they dead, too?

STEWARD. Aye, sir; they died of overwork.

MR G. And why were they overworked?

STEWARD. To carry water, sir.

MR G. To carry water, and what were they carrying water for?

STEWARD. Sure, sir, to put out the fire.

MR G. Fire! what fire?

STEWARD. Your father's house is burned down to the ground.

MR G. My father's house burnt down! and how came it to be on fire?

STEWARD. I think sir, it must have been the torches.

MR G. Torches! what torches?

STEWARD. At your mother's funeral.

MR G. My mother dead?

STEWARD. Aye, poor lady, she never looked up after it.

MR G. After what?

STEWARD. The loss of your father.

MR G. My father gone, too?

STEWARD. Yes, poor gentleman, he took to his bed as soon as he heard of it.

MR G. Heard of what?

STEWARD. The bad news, an' it please your honour.

MR G. What? more miseries, more bad news!

STEWARD. Yes, sir, your bank has failed, your credit is lost and you're not worth a shilling in the world. I make bold, sir, to come and wait on you about it; for I thought you would like to hear the news.


NOTES

SOURCE Bell's Speaker.
PARALLELS Jacques de Vitry, Exempla, ed. Crane, No. ccv, a servant being asked the news by his master returned from a pilgrimage to Compostella, says the dog is lame, and goes on to explain: 'While the dog was running near the mule, the mule kicked him and broke his own halter and ran through the house scattering the fire with his hoofs, and burning down your house with your wife.' It occurs even earlier in Alfonsi's Disciplina Clericalis, No. xxx, at beginning of the twelfth century, among the Fabliaux, and in Bebel, Werke, iii 71, whence probably it was reintroduced into England. See Prof. Crane's note ad loc.
REMARKS Almost all Alfonsi's exempla are from the East. It is characteristic that the German version finishes up with a loss of honour, the English climax being loss of fortune.

Jacobs. Wee Wee Mannie

SOURCE: English Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs with illustrations by John Batten.

This is another example of ATU 2030 Old Woman and Pig, with the distinctive back-and-forth between mother and son here, and the two-fold series of requests/threats: first cow-stick-butcher, and then lady-laddie-sword.

 

THE WEE WEE MANNIE

Once upon a time, when all big folks were wee ones and all lies were true, there was a wee, wee Mannie that had a big, big Coo. And out he went to milk her of a morning, and said --
'Hold still, my Coo, my hinny,
Hold still, my hinny, my Coo,
And ye shall have for your dinner
What but a milk white doo.'

But the big, big Coo wouldn't hold still. 'Hout!' said the wee, wee Mannie --
'Hold still, my Coo, my dearie,
And fill my bucket wi' milk,
And if ye'll be no contrairy
I'll gi'e ye a gown o' silk.'

But the big, big Coo wouldn't hold still. 'Look at that, now!' said the wee, wee Mannie --
'What's a wee, wee mannie to do,
Wi' such a big contrairy Coo?'

So off he went to his mother at the house. 'Mother,' said he, 'Coo won't stand still, and wee, wee Mannie can't milk big, big Coo.'

'Hout!' says his mother, 'take stick and beat Coo.'

So off he went to get a stick from the tree, and said --
'Break, stick, break,
And I'll gi'e ye a cake.'

But the stick wouldn't break, so back he went to the house.

'Mother,' says he, 'Coo won't hold still, stick won't break, wee, wee Mannie can't beat big, big Coo.'

'Hout!' says his mother, 'go to the Butcher and bid him kill Coo.'

So off he went to the Butcher, and said --
'Butcher, kill the big, big Coo,
She'll gi'e us no more milk noo.'

But the Butcher wouldn't kill the Coo without a silver penny, so back the Mannie went to the house. 'Mother,' says he, 'Coo won't hold still, stick won't break, Butcher won't kill without a silver penny, and wee, wee Mannie can't milk big, big Coo.'

'Well,' said his mother, 'go to the Coo and tell her there's a weary, weary lady with long yellow hair weeping for a sup o' milk.'

So off he went and told the Coo, but she wouldn't hold still, so back he went and told his mother.

'Well,' said she, 'tell the Coo there's a fine, fine laddie from the wars sitting by the weary, weary lady with golden hair, and she weeping for a sup o' milk.'

So off he went and told the Coo, but she wouldn't hold still, so back he went and told his mother.

'Well,' said his mother, 'tell the big, big Coo there's a sharp, sharp sword at the belt of the fine, fine laddie from the wars who sits beside the weary, weary lady with the golden hair, and she weeping for a sup o' milk.'

And he told the big, big Coo, but she wouldn't hold still.

Then said his mother, 'Run quick and tell her that her head's going to be cut off by the sharp, sharp sword in the hands of the fine, fine laddie, if she doesn't give the sup o' milk the weary, weary lady weeps for.'

And wee, wee, Mannie went off and told the big, big Coo.

And when Coo saw the glint of the sharp, sharp sword in the hand of the fine, fine laddie come from the wars, and the weary, weary lady weeping for a sup o' milk, she reckoned she'd better hold still; so wee, wee Mannie milked big, big Coo, and the weary, weary lady with the golden hair hushed her weeping and got her sup o' milk, and the fine, fine laddie new come from the wars put by his sharp, sharp sword, and all went well that didn't go ill.

NOTES

SOURCE From Mrs Balfour's old nurse. I have again anglicised.

PARALLELS This is one of the class of accumulative stories like The Old Woman and her Pig (No. 4). The class is well represented in these isles.

May 22. Story of the Day: Cat and Mouse

This is another story from the English Fairy Tales of Joseph Jacobs, with illustrations by John Batten. Click the link to see other stories from that two-volume project, and see also Jacobs's notes to this story at the bottom of the page.

This is classified as ATU 2034 The mouse regains its tail.

So many stories of "cat-and-mouse" do not end happily for the mouse but, lest you worry while reading the story, this one does have a happy ending! :-)

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

THE CAT AND THE MOUSE

The cat and the mouse
Play'd in the malt-house:

The cat bit the mouse's tail off.

'Pray, Puss, give me my tail.'

'No,' says the cat, 'I'll not give you your tail, till you go to the cow, and fetch me some milk.'

First she leapt, and then she ran,
Till she came to the cow, and thus began:

'Pray, Cow, give me milk, that I may give cat milk, that cat may give me my own tail again.'

'No,' said the cow, 'I will give you no milk, till you go to the farmer, and get me some hay.'

First she leapt, and then she ran,
Till she came to the farmer, and thus began:

'Pray, Farmer, give me hay, that I may give cow hay, that cow may give me milk, that I may give cat milk, that cat may give me my own tail again.'

'No,' says the farmer, 'I'll give you no hay, till you go to the butcher and fetch me some meat.'

First she leapt, and then she ran,
Till she came to the butcher, and thus began:

'Pray, Butcher, give me meat, that I may give farmer meat, that farmer may give me hay, that I may give cow hay, that cow may give me milk, that I may give cat milk, that cat may give me my own tail again.'

'No,' says the butcher, 'I'll give you no meat, till you go to the baker and fetch me some bread.'

First she leapt, and then she ran,
Till she came to the baker, and thus began:

'Pray, Baker, give me bread, that I may give butcher bread, that butcher may give me meat, that I may give farmer meat, that farmer may give me hay, that I may give cow hay, that cow may give me milk, that I may give cat milk, that cat may give me my own tail again.'

'Yes,' says the baker, 'I'll give you some bread,
But if you eat my meal, I'll cut off your head.'

Then the baker gave mouse bread, and mouse gave butcher bread, and butcher gave mouse meat, and mouse gave farmer meat, and farmer gave mouse hay, and mouse gave cow hay, and cow gave mouse milk, and mouse gave cat milk, and cat gave mouse her own tail again.


NOTES

Source: Halliwell, p. 154.

Scarcely more than a variant of 'The Old Woman and her Pig' (No. 4), which see. It is curious that a very similar 'run' is added by Bengali women at the end of every folk-tale they tell (Lal Behari Day, Folk-Tales of Bengal, Pref. ad fin.).


CHAIN: mouse-cat-milk-cow-hay-farmer-meat-butcher-bread-baker

May 20. Story of the Day: Titty Mouse And Tatty Mouse

Today's story is included in English Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs, and for information about his source, see his notes below.

The story is classified as TMI Z32.2 The death of the little hen = ATU 2022.

I really like the way this involves animals and humans and inanimate objects in the (long!) chain.

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

(Willard Bonte)

TITTY MOUSE AND TATTY MOUSE

TITTY MOUSE and Tatty Mouse
both lived in a house;
Titty Mouse went a leasing
and Tatty Mouse went a leasing,
So they both went a leasing.

Titty Mouse leased an ear of corn,
and Tatty Mouse leased an ear of corn.
So they both leased an ear of corn.

Titty Mouse made a pudding
and Tatty Mouse made a pudding,
So they both made a pudding.

And Tatty Mouse put her pudding into the pot to boil, but when Titty went to put hers in, the pot tumbled over, and scalded her to death.

Then Tatty sat down and wept; then a three-legged stool said, "Tatty, why do you weep?"

"Titty's dead," said Tatty, "and so I weep."

"Then," said the stool, "I"ll hop," so the stool hopped.

Then a broom in the corner of the room said, "Stool, why do you hop?"

"Oh!" said the stool,
Titty's dead, 
Tatty weeps, 
and so I hop.

"Then," said the broom, "I"ll sweep," so the broom began to sweep.

Then said the door, "Broom, why do you sweep?"

"Oh!" said the broom,
Titty's dead, 
Tatty weeps, 
the stool hops, 
and so I sweep.

"Then," said the door, "I"ll jar," so the door jarred.

Then said the window, "Door, why do you jar?"

"Oh!" said the door,
Titty's dead, 
Tatty weeps, 
the stool hops, 
and the broom sweeps, 
and so I jar.

Then said the window, "I"ll creak," so the window creaked.

Now there was an old form outside the house, and when the window creaked, the form said, "Window, why do you creak?"

"Oh!" said the window,
Titty's dead, 
Tatty weeps, 
the stool hops, 
and the broom sweeps, 
the door jars, 
and so I creak.

"Then," said the old form, "I"ll run round the house," then the old form ran round the house.

Now there was a fine large walnut-tree growing by the cottage, and the tree said to the form: "Form, why do you run round the house?"

"Oh!" said the form,
Titty's dead, 
Tatty weeps, 
the stool hops, 
and the broom sweeps, 
the door jars, 
and the window creaks, 
and so I run round the house.

"Then," said the walnut-tree, "I"ll shed my leaves," so the walnut-tree shed all its beautiful green leaves.

Now there was a little bird perched on one of the boughs of the tree, and when all the leaves fell, it said, "Walnut-tree, why do you shed your leaves?"

"Oh!" said the tree,
Titty's dead, 
Tatty weeps, 
the stool hops, 
and the broom sweeps, 
the door jars, 
and the window creaks, 
the old form runs round the house, 
and so I shed my leaves.

"Then," said the little bird, "I"ll moult all my feathers," so he moulted all his pretty feathers.

Now there was a little girl walking below, carrying a jug of milk for her brothers' and sisters' supper, and when she saw the poor little bird moult all its feathers, she said, "Little bird, why do you moult all your feathers?"

"Oh!" said the little bird,
Titty's dead, 
Tatty weeps, 
the stool hops, 
and the broom sweeps, 
the door jars, 
and the window creaks, 
the old form runs round the house, 
the walnut-tree sheds all its leaves, 
and so I moult all my feathers.

"Then," said the little girl, "I"ll spill the milk," so she dropt the pitcher and spilt the milk.

Now there was an old man just by on the top of a ladder thatching a rick, and when he saw the little girl spill the milk, he said, "Little girl, what do you mean by spilling the milk? -- your little brothers and sisters must go without their supper."

Then said the little girl:
Titty's dead, 
Tatty weeps, 
the stool hops, 
and the broom sweeps, 
the door jars, 
and the window creaks, 
the old form runs round the house, 
the walnut-tree sheds all its leaves, 
the little bird moults all its feathers, 
and so I spill the milk.

"Oh!" said the old man, "then I"ll tumble off the ladder and break my neck," so he tumbled off the ladder and broke his neck.

And when the old man broke his neck, the great walnut-tree fell down with a crash, and upset the old form and house, and the house falling knocked the window out, and the window knocked the door down, and the door upset the broom, and the broom upset the stool, and poor little Tatty Mouse was buried beneath the ruins.


NOTES

SOURCE Halliwell, p. 115.

PARALLELS This curious droll is extremely widespread; references are given in Cosquin, i, 204 seq.: and Crane, Italian Popular Tales, 375-6. As a specimen I may indicate what is implied by such bibliographical references throughout these notes by drawing up a list of the variants of this tale noticed by these two authorities, adding one or two lately printed. Various versions have been discovered in

ENGLAND: Halliwell, Nursery Rhymes, p. 115.

SCOTLAND: K. Blind, in Arch. Rev., iii ('Fleakin and Louisikin', in the Shetlands).

FRANCE: Mélusine, 1877, col. 424; Sebillot, Contes pop. de la Haute Bretagne, No. 55; Littérature orale, p. 232; Magasin pittoresque, 1869, p. 82; Cosquin, Contes pop. de Lorraine, Nos. 18 and 74.

ITALY: Pitrè, Novelline popolari siciliane, No. 134 (translated in Crane, Ital. Pop. Tales, p. 257); Imbriani, La novellaja Fiorentina, p. 244; Bernoni, Tradizione popolari veneziane, punt. iii, p. 81; Gianandrea, Biblioteca delle tradizioni popolari marchigiane, p. 11; Papanti, Novelline popolari livornesi, p. 19 ('Vezzino e Madonna Salciccia'); Finamore, Trad. pop. abruzzesi, p. 244; Morosi, Studi sui Dialetti Greci della Terra d'Otranto, p. 75; Giamb. Basile, 1884, p. 37.

GERMANY: Grimm, Kinder-und-Haus-Märchen, No. 30; Kuhn und Schwarz, Nord-deutsche Sagen, No. 16.

NORWAY: Asbjörnsen, No. 103, translated in Fairy Tales from the far North (H. L. Braekstad), p. 183 ('The Cock who Fell into the Brewing Vat').

SPAIN: Maspons, Cuentos populars catalans, p. 12; Fernan Caballero, Cuentos y refrañes populares, p. 3 ('La Hormiguita').

PORTUGAL: Coelho, Contos popolares portuguezes, No. 1.

ROUMANIA: Kremnitz, Rumänische Mährchen, No. 15.

ASIA MINOR: Vohn Hahn, Griechische und Albanesisehe Mürchen, No. 56.

INDIA: Steele and Temple, Wide Awake Stories, p. 157 ('The Death and Burial of Poor Hen-Sparrow').

REMARKS These twenty-five variants of the same jingle scattered over the world from India to Spain present the problem of the diffusion of folk-tales in its simplest form. No one is likely to contend, with Prof. Muller and Sir George Cox, that we have here the detritus of archaic Aryan mythology, a parody of a sun-myth. There is little that is savage and archaic to attract the school of Dr Tylor, beyond the speaking powers of animals and inanimates. Yet even Mr Lang is not likely to hold that these variants arose by coincidence and independently in the different parts of the world where they have been found. The only solution is that the curious succession of incidents was invented once for all at some definite place and time by some definite entertainer for children, and spread thence through all the Old World. In a few instances we can actually trace the passage--e.g. the Shetland version was certainly brought over from Hamburg. Whether the centre of dispersion was India or not, it is impossible to say, as it might have spread east from Smyrna (Hahn, No. 56). Benfey (Einleitung zu Pantschatantra, i, 190-1) suggests that this class of accumulative story may be a sort of parody on the Indian stories, illustrating the moral, 'what great events from small occasions rise !' Thus a drop of honey falls on the ground, a fly goes after it, a bird snaps at the fly, a dog goes for the bird, another dog goes for the first, the masters of the two dogs--who happen to be kings--quarrel and go to war, whole provinces are devastated, and all for a drop of honey ! 'Titty Mouse and Tatty Mouse' also ends in a universal calamity which seems to arise from a cause of no great importance. Benfey's suggestion is certainly ingenious, but perhaps too ingenious to be true.

~ ~ ~

CHAIN: mouse weeps - stool hops - broom sweeps - door jars - window creaks - form runs - tree sheds leaves- bird moults feathers - girls spills milk - man breaks neck

May 11. Story of the Day: The Old Woman and Her Pig

Today's story comes from English Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs. You can click on that link to see more stories from this book.

This is the story that gave its name to the widespread tale type ATU 2030 old woman and her pig.

The goal in this story is to get the pig to jump over the stile. As you can see in the illustration by John Batten, the pig is looking rather fat and dubious. The old woman will have to enlist a long chain of helpers in order to get her pig over that stile.

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

The Old Woman and Her Pig

AN old woman was sweeping her house, and she found a little crooked sixpence. 'What,' said she, 'shall I do with this little sixpence? I will go to market, and buy a little pig.' As she was coming home, she came to a stile: but the piggy wouldn't go over the stile.

She went a little further, and she met a dog. So she said to him:
'Dog! dog! bite pig;
piggy won't go over the stile;
and I shan't get home tonight.'
But the dog wouldn't.

She went a little further, and she met a stick. So she said:
'Stick! stick! beat dog;
dog won't bite pig;
piggy won't get over the stile;
and I shan't get home tonight.'
But the stick wouldn't.

She went a little further, and she met a fire. So she said:
'Fire! fire! burn stick;
stick won't beat dog;
dog won't bite pig;
piggy won't get over the stile;
and I shan't get home tonight.'
But the fire wouldn't.

She went a little further, and she met some water. So she said:
'Water! water! quench fire;
fire won't burn stick;
stick won't beat dog;
dog won't bite pig;
piggy won't get over the stile;
and I shan't get home tonight.'
But the water wouldn't.

She went a little further, and she met an ox. So she said:
'Ox! ox! drink water;
water won't quench fire;
fire won't burn stick;
stick won't beat dog;
dog won't bite pig;
piggy won't get over the stile;
and I shan't get home tonight.'
But the ox wouldn't.

She went a little further and she met a butcher. So she said:
'Butcher! butcher! kill ox;
ox won't drink water;
water won't quench fire;
fire won't burn stick;
stick won't beat dog;
dog won't bite pig;
piggy won't get over the stile;
and I shan't get home tonight.'
But the butcher wouldn't.

She went a little further, and she met a rope. So she said:
'Rope! rope! hang butcher;
butcher won't kill ox;
ox won't drink water;
water won't quench fire;
fire won't burn stick;
stick won't beat dog;
dog won't bite pig;
piggy won' t get over the stile;
and I shan't get home tonight.'
But the rope wouldn't.

She went a little further, and she met a rat. So she said:
'Rat! rat! gnaw rope;
rope won't hang butcher;
butcher won't kill ox;
ox won't drink water;
water won't quench fire;
fire won't burn stick;
stick won't beat dog;
dog won't bite pig;
piggy won't get over the stile;
and I shan't get home tonight.'
But the rat wouldn't.

She went a little further, and she met a cat. So she said:
'Cat! cat! kill rat;
rat won't gnaw rope;
rope won't hang butcher;
butcher won't kill ox;
ox won't drink water;
water won't quench fire;
fire won't burn stick;
stick won't beat dog;
dog won't bite pig;
piggy won't get over the stile;
and I shan't get home tonight.'

But the cat said to her,
'If you will go to yonder cow,
and fetch me a saucer of milk,
I will kill the rat.'
So away went the old woman to the cow.

But the the cow said to her:
'If you will go to yonder haystack,
and fetch me a handful of hay,
I'll give you the milk.'
So away went the old woman to the hay-stack;
and she brought the hay to the cow.

As soon as the cow had eaten the hay,
she gave the old woman the milk;
and away she went with it in a saucer to the cat.

As soon as the cat had lapped up the milk,
the cat began to kill the rat;
the rat began to gnaw the rope;
the rope began to hang the butcher;
the butcher began to kill the ox;
the ox began to drink the water;
the water began to quench the fire;
the fire began to burn the stick;
the stick began to beat the dog;
the dog began to bite the pig;
the little pig in a fright jumped over the stile;
and so the old woman got home that night.


NOTES

SOURCE Halliwell's Nursery Rhymes and Tales, 114.

PARALLELS Cf. Miss Burne, Shropshire Folk-Lore, 529; also No. 34, infra ('Cat and Mouse'). It occurs also in Scotch, with the title 'The Wife and her Bush of Berries', Chambers's Pop. Rhymes, p. 57. Newell, Games and Songs of American Children, gives a game named 'Club-fist' (No. 75), founded on this, and in his notes refers to German, Danish, and Spanish variants. (Cf. Cosquin, ii, 36 seq. See also Celtic Fairy Tales, notes on 'Munachar and Manachar').

REMARKS One of the class of accumulative stories, which are well represented in England. (Cf. infra, Nos. 16, 20, 34, and 80 in More English Fairy Tales.)

~  ~  ~

Here is a variant which Halliwell mentions, but which Jacobs did not include in his note:

* Or haymakers, proceeding thus in the stead of the rest of this paragraph:—"And fetch me a wisp of hay, I'll give you the milk.—So away the old woman went, but the haymakers said to her,—If you will go to yonder stream, and fetch us a bucket of water, we'll give you the hay. So away the old woman went, but when she got to the stream, she found the bucket was full of holes. So she covered the bottom with pebbles, and then filled the bucket with water, and away she went back with it to the haymakers; and they gave her a wisp of hay."

~  ~  ~

Here is an illustration by L. Leslie Brooke from The Nursery Rhyme Book edited by Andrew Lang:

CHAIN: pig - dog - stick - fire - water - ox - butcher - rope - rat - cat - cow - haystack - milk

Jacobs. The Cauld Lad of Hilton

SOURCE: English Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs.

This story is not included in the TMI, but the brownie's little song is a nice cumulative tale; he wants someone who will "lay [the ghost to rest]", but that person has not yet been born. That little song, "The Ghaist's Song," is Roud 23026.

The Cauld Lad of Hilton

AT Hilton Hall, long years ago, there lived a Brownie that was the contrariest Brownie you ever knew. At night, after the servants had gone to bed, it would turn everything topsyturvy, put sugar in the salt cellars, pepper into the beer, and was up to all kinds of pranks. It would throw the chairs down, put tables on their backs, rake out fires, and do as much mischief as could be. But sometimes it would be in a good temper, and then!--'What's a Brownie?' you say. Oh, it's a kind of a sort of Bogle, but it isn't so cruel as a Redcap! What! you don't know what's a Bogle or a Redcap! Ah, me! what's the world a-coming to? Of course, a Brownie is a funny little thing, half man, half goblin, with pointed ears and hairy hide. When you bury a treasure, you scatter over it blood drops of a newly slain kid or lamb, or, better still, bury the animal with the treasure, and a Brownie will watch it for you, and frighten everybody else away.

Where was I? Well, as I was a-saying, the Brownie at Hilton Hall would play at mischief, but if the servants laid out for it a bowl of cream, or a knuckle cake spread with honey, it would clear away things for them, and make everything tidy in the kitchen. One night, however, when the servants had stopped up late, they heard a noise in the kitchen, and, peeping in, saw the Brownie swinging to and fro on the Jack chain, and saying:

'Woe's me! woe's me!
The acorn's not yet
Fallen from the tree,
That's to grow the wood,
That's to make the cradle
That's to rock the bairn,
That's to grow to the man,
That's to lay me.
Woe's me! Woe's me!'

So they took pity on the poor Brownie, and asked the nearest hen-wife what they should do to send it away. 'That's easy enough,' said the hen-wife, and told them that a Brownie that's paid for its service, in aught that's not perishable, goes away at once. So they made a cloak of Lincoln green, with a hood to it, and put it by the hearth and watched. They saw the Brownie come up, and seeing the hood and cloak, put them on and frisk about, dancing on one leg and saying:

'I've taken your cloak, I've taken your hood;
The Cauld Lad of Hilton will do no more good.'

And with that it vanished, and was never seen or heard of afterwards.


NOTES

SOURCE Henderson's Folk-Lore of Northern Counties, 2nd edition, published by the Folk-Lore Society, pp. 266-7. I have written the introductory paragraph so as to convey some information about Brownies, Bogies, and Redcaps, for which Henderson, l.c., 246-53, is my authority. Mr Batten's portrait renders this somewhat superfluous.


PARALLELS The Grimms' Elves (No. 39) behave in like manner on being rewarded for their services. Milton's 'lub-bar-fiend' in L'Allegro has all the characteristics of a Brownie.

~ ~ ~

from Henderson's Folk-Lore of Northern Counties

The counties of Northumberland and Durham are certainly peculiarly rich in tricksy spirits. There is the Cauld Lad of Hilton who haunted Hilton Castle in the Valley of the Wear. Seldom seen, he was heard night after night by the servants. If they left the kitchen in order he would amuse himself by hurling everything wildly about; if they left it in confusion he would arrange everything with the greatest care. Harmless as he seemed, the servants got tired of him so they laid a green cloak and hood before the kitchen fire and set themselves to watch the result. At midnight the Cauld Lad glided in, surveyed the garments, put them on, frisked about and, when the cock crew, disappeared saying, "Here's a cloak and there's a hood; the Cauld Lad of Hilton will do no more good." All this bespeaks him a sprite of the Brownie type; still he is in the neighbourhood deemed the ghost of a servant boy slain by an old baron of Hilton in a moment of passion. The baron it is said ordered his horse to be ready at a particular time, waited for it in vain, went to the stable, found the lad asleep and struck him a blow with a hayfork which killed him The baron it is added covered the victim with straw till night and then threw him into a pond where indeed the skeleton of a boy was discovered years afterwards Some verses said to be sung by the Cauld Lad at dead of night certainly accord well with the notion of his being a ghost.

Jacobs. The Strange Visitor

SOURCE: English Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs.

This story is not included in the TMI, but I think it is a great example of a cumulative tale.

The Strange Visitor

A WOMAN was sitting at her reel one night;
And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company.

In came a pair of broad broad soles, and sat down at the fireside;
And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company.

In came a pair of small small legs, and sat down on the broad broad soles;
And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company.

In came a pair of thick thick knees, and sat down on the small small legs;
And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company.

In came a pair of thin thin thighs, and sat down on the thick knees;
And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company.

In came a pair of huge huge hips, and sat down on the thin thin thighs;
And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company.

In came a wee wee waist, and sat down on the huge huge hips;
And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company.

In came a pair of broad broad shoulders, and sat down on the wee wee waist;
And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company.

In came a pair of small small arms, and sat down on the broad broad shoulders;
And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company.

In came a pair of huge huge hands, and sat down on the small small arms;
And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company.

In came a small small neck, and sat down on the broad broad shoulders;
And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company.

In came a huge huge head, and sat down on the small small neck.

'How did you get such broad broad feet?' quoth the woman.
'Much tramping, much tramping' (gruffly).

'How did you get such small small legs?'
'Aih-h-h!--late--and wee-e-e--moul' (whiningly).

'How did you get such thick thick knees?'
'Much praying, much praying' (piously);

'How did you get such thin thin thighs?'
'Aih-h-h!--late--and wee-e-e--moul' (whiningly).

'How did you get such big big hips?'
'Much sitting, much sitting' (gruffly).

'How did you get such a wee wee waist?'
'Aih-h-h!--late--and wee-e-e--moul' (whiningly).

'How did you get such broad broad shoulders?'
'With carrying broom, with carrying broom' (gruffly).

'How did you get such small small arms?'
'Aih-h-h!--late--and we-e-e--moul' (whiningly).

'How did you get such huge huge hands?'
'Threshing with an iron flail, threshing with an iron flail' (gruffly).

'How did you get such a small small neck?'
'Aih-h-h!--late--wee-e-e--moul' (pitifully).

'How did you get such a huge huge head?'
'Much knowledge, much knowledge' (keenly).

'What do you come for?'
'For you !' (At the top of the voice, with a wave of the arm, and a stamp of the feet.)


NOTES

SOURCE From Chambers, I.c., 64 (online at Hathi), much Anglicised. I have retained 'Aihlate wee moul', though I candidly confess I have not the slightest idea what it means; judging other children by myself, I do not think that makes the response less effective. The prosaic-minded may substitute 'Up-late-and-little-food'.


PARALLELS The man made by instalments occurs in the Grimms, No. 4, and something like it in an English folk-tale, The Golden Ball, ap. Henderson, l.c., p. 333; cf. 'The Sprightly Tailor' in my Celtic Fairy Tales.

Jacobs. Henny-Penny

SOURCE: English Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs.

This is ATU 20C. Animals Flee in Fear of the End of the World (TMI Z43).

Henny-Penny

ONE day Henny-penny was picking up corn in the cornyard when--whack!--something hit her upon the head. 'Goodness gracious me!' said Henny-penny; 'the sky's a-going to fall; I must go and tell the king.'

So she went along and she went along and she went along till she met Cocky-locky. 'Where are you going, Hennypenny?' says Cocky-locky. 'Oh! I'm going to tell the king the sky's a-falling,' says Henny-penny. 'May I come with you?' says Cocky-locky. 'Certainly,' says Henny-penny. So Hennypenny and Cocky-locky went to tell the king the sky was falling.

They went along, and they went along, and they went along, till they met Ducky-daddles. 'Where are you going to, Hennypenny and Cocky-locky?' says Ducky-daddles. 'Oh! we're going to tell the king the sky's a-falling,' said Henny-penny and Cocky-locky. 'May I come with you?' said Ducky-daddles. 'Certainly,' said Henny-penny and Cocky-locky. So Hennypenny, Cocky-locky, and Ducky-daddles went to tell the king the sky was a-falling.

So they went along and they went along, and they went along, till they met Goosey-poosey. 'Where are you going to, Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, and Ducky-daddles?' said Gooseypoosey. 'Oh! we're going to tell the king the sky's a-falling,' said Henny-penny and Cocky-locky and Ducky-daddles. 'May I come with you?' said Goosey-poosey. 'Certainly,' said Hennypenny, Cocky-locky, and Ducky-daddles. So Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, and Goosey-poosey went to tell the king the sky was a-falling.

So they went along, and they went along, and they went along, till they met Turkey-lurkey. 'Where are you going, Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, and Gooseypoosey?' says Turkey-turkey. 'Oh! we're going to tell the king the sky's a-falling,' said Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Duckydaddies, and Goosey-poosey. 'May I come with you, Hennypenny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, and Goosey-poosey?' said Turkey-lurkey. 'Oh, certainly, Turkey-turkey,' said Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, and Gooseypoosey. So Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey-poosey, and Turkey-lurkey all went to tell the king the sky was a-falling.

So they went along, and they went along, and they went along, till they met Foxy-woxy, and Foxy-woxy said to Hennypenny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey-poosey, and Turkey-lurkey: 'Where are you going, Henny-penny, Cockylocky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey-poosey, and Turkey-lurkey?' And Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey poosey, and Turkey-lurkey said to Foxy-woxy: 'We' re going to tell the king the sky's a-falling.' 'Oh! but this is not the way to the king, Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey-poosey, and Turkey-lurkey,' says Foxy-woxy; 'I know the proper way; shall I show it you?' 'Oh, certainly, Foxywoxy,' said Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey-poosey, and Turkey-lurkey. So Henny-penny, Cockylocky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey-poosey, Turkey-lurkey, and Foxy-woxy all went to tell the king the sky was a-falling. So they went along, and they went along, and they went along, till they came to a narrow and dark hole.

Now this was the door of Foxy-woxy's cave. But Foxy-woxy said to Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey-poosey, and Turkeyturkey: 'This is the short way to the king's palace: you'll soon get there if you follow me. I will go first and you come after, Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey-poosey, and Turkey-turkey.'

'Why, of course, certainly, without doubt, why not?' said Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey-poosey, and Turkey-lurkey.

So Foxy-woxy went into his cave, and he didn't go very far, but turned round to wait for Henny-penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky-daddles, Goosey-poosey, and Turkey-lurkey.

So at last at first Turkey-lurkey went through the dark hole into the cave. He hadn't got far when 'Hrumph', Foxy-woxy snapped off Turkey-lurkey's head and threw his body over his left shoulder.

Then Goosey-poosey went in, and 'Hrumph', off went her head and Goosey-poosey was thrown beside Turkey-lurkey.

Then Ducky-daddles waddled down, and 'Hrumph', snapped Foxy-woxy, and Ducky-daddles's head was off and Duckydaddies was thrown alongside Turkey-turkey and Gooseypoosey.

Then Cocky-locky strutted down into the cave, and he hadn't gone far when 'Snap, Hrumph!' went Foxy-woxy, and Cocky-locky was thrown alongside of Turkey-lurkey, Gooseypoosey, and Ducky-daddles.

But Foxy-woxy had made two bites at Cocky-locky, and when the first snap only hurt Cocky-locky, but didn't kill him, he called out to Henny-penny.

But she turned tail and off she ran home, so she never told the king the sky was a-falling.


NOTES

SOURCE I give this as it was told to me in Australia in 1860. The fun consists in the avoidance of all pronouns, which results in jaw-breaking sentences almost equal to the celebrated 'She stood at the door of the fish-sauce shop, welcoming him in'.


PARALLELS Halliwell, p. 151, has the same with the title 'Chicken-Licken'. It occurs also in Chambers's Popular Rhymes, p. 59 (online at Hathi), with the same names of the dramatis personae as my version. Kennedy, Fireside Tales of Ireland, p. 25, has it under the title 'The End of the World'. For European parallels, see Crane, Ital. Pop. Tales, 377, and authorities there quoted.

Jacobs. Mr. Vinegar

SOURCE: English Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs.

This is ATU 1415 Trading Away One's Fortune, and it's a great example of a chain because of the way Mr. Vinegar trades away his fortune step by step: first he buys a cow, then trades the cow for bagpipes, etc.

Mr. Vinegar

MR and Mrs Vinegar lived in a vinegar bottle. Now, one day, when Mr Vinegar was from home, Mrs Vinegar, who was a very good housewife, was busily sweeping her house, when an unlucky thump of the broom brought the whole house cutter-clatter, cutter-clatter, about her ears.

In an agony of grief she rushed forth to meet her husband. On seeing him she exclaimed, 'O Mr Vinegar, Mr Vinegar, we are ruined, we are ruined: I have knocked the house down, and it is all to pieces!' Mr Vinegar then said: 'My dear, let us see what can be done. Here is the door; I will take it on my back, and we will go forth to seek our fortune.'

They walked all that day, and at nightfall entered a thick forest. They were both very, very tired, and Mr Vinegar said: 'My love, I will climb up into a tree, drag up the door, and you shall follow.' He accordingly did so, and they both stretched their weary limbs on the door, and fell asleep.

In the middle of the night, Mr Vinegar was disturbed by the sound of voices underneath and to his horror and dismay found that it was a band of thieves met to divide their booty. 'Here, Jack,' said one, 'there's five pounds for you; here, Bill, here's ten pounds for you; here, Bob, there's three pounds for you.' Mr Vinegar could listen no longer; his terror was so great that he trembled and trembled, and shook down the door on their heads. Away scampered the thieves, but Mr Vinegar dared not quit his retreat till broad daylight. He then scrambled out of the tree, and went to lift up the door. What did he see but a number of golden guineas. 'Come down, Mrs Vinegar,' he cried; 'come down, I say; our fortune's made, our fortune's made! Come down, I say.' Mrs Vinegar got down as fast as she could, and when she saw the money, she jumped for joy.

'Now, my dear,' said she, 'I'll tell you what you shall do. There is a fair at the neighbouring town; you shall take these forty guineas and buy a cow. I can make butter and cheese, which you shall sell at market, and we shall then be able to live very comfortably.'

Mr Vinegar joyfully agrees, takes the money, and off he goes to the fair. When he arrived, he walked up and down, and at length saw a beautiful red cow. It was an excellent milker, and perfect in every way. 'Oh!' thought Mr Vinegar, 'if I had but that cow, I should be the happiest man alive.' So he offered the forty guineas for the cow, and the owner said that, as he was a friend, he'd oblige him. So the bargain was made, and he got the cow and he drove it backwards and forwards to show it.

By and by he saw a man playing the bagpipes--Tweedle-dum, tweedle-dee. The children followed him about, and he appeared to be pocketing money on all sides. 'Well,' thought Mr Vinegar, 'if I had but that beautiful instrument I should be the happiest man alive my fortune would be made.' So he went up to the man. 'Friend,' says he, 'what a beautiful instrument that is, and what a deal of money you must make.' 'Why, yes,' said the man, 'I make a great deal of money, to be sure, and it is a wonderful instrument.' 'Oh!' cried Mr Vinegar, 'how I should like to possess it!' 'Well,' said the man, 'as you are a friend, I don't much mind parting with it: you shall have it for that red cow.' 'Done!' said the delighted Mr Vinegar. So the beautiful red cow was given for the bagpipes. He walked up and down with his purchase; but it was in vain he tried to play a tune, and instead of pocketing pence, the boys followed him hooting, laughing, and pelting.

Poor Mr Vinegar, his fingers grew very cold, and, just as he was leaving the town, he met a man with a fine thick pair of gloves. 'Oh, my fingers are so very cold,' said Mr Vinegar to himself. 'Now if I had but those beautiful gloves I should be the happiest man alive.' He went up to the man, and said to him: 'Friend, you seem to have a capital pair of gloves there.' 'Yes, truly,' cried the man; 'and my hands are as warm as possible this cold November day.' 'Well,' said Mr Vinegar, 'I should like to have them.' 'What will you give?' said the man; 'as you are a friend, I don't much mind letting you have them for those bagpipes.' 'Done!' cried Mr Vinegar. He put on the gloves, and felt perfectly happy as he trudged homewards.

At last he grew very tired, when he saw a man coming towards him with a good stout stick in his hand. 'Oh,' said Mr Vinegar, 'that I had but that stick! I should then be the happiest man alive.' He said to the man: 'Friend, what a rare good stick you have got!' 'Yes,' said the man; 'I have used it for many a long mile, and a good friend it has been; but if you have a fancy for it, as you are a friend, I don't mind giving it to you for that pair of gloves.' Mr Vinegar's hands were so warm, and his legs so tired, that he gladly made the exchange.

As he drew near to the wood where he had left his wife, he heard a parrot on a tree calling out his name: 'Mr Vinegar, you foolish man, you blockhead, you simpleton; you went to the fair, and laid out all your money in buying a cow. Not content with that, you changed it for bagpipes, on which you could not play, and which were not worth one-tenth of the money. You fool, you--you had no sooner got the bagpipes than you changed them for the gloves, which were not worth one-quarter of the money; and when you had got the gloves, you changed them for a poor miserable stick; and now for your forty guineas, cow, bagpipes, and gloves, you have nothing to show but that poor miserable stick, which you might have cut in any hedge.'

On this the bird laughed and laughed, and Mr Vinegar, falling into a violent rage, threw the stick at its head. The stick lodged in the tree, and he returned to his wife without money, cow, bagpipes, gloves, or stick, and she instantly gave him such a sound cudgelling that she almost broke every bone in his skin.


NOTES

SOURCE Halliwell, p. 149. From the West of England.

PARALLELS This is the Hans im Glück of Grimm (No. 83). Cf., too, 'Lazy Jack', infra, No. 27. Other variants are given by M. Cosquin, Contes pop. de Lorraine, i, 241. On surprising robbers, see preceding tale.

REMARKS In some of the variants the door is carried, because Mr Vinegar, or his equivalent, has been told to 'mind the door', or he acts on the principle, 'he that is master of the door is master of the house'. In other stories he makes the foolish exchanges to the entire satisfaction of his wife. (Cf. Cosquin, i, 156-7.)

Jacobs. The Three Sillies

SOURCE: English Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs, with illustrations by John Batten.

Taylor classifies this type of story as 2020: Chains involving a death: human actors, but for some reason it is not part of the TMI Z-series also. The mass hysteria is reminiscent of TMI Z43.3. Nut hits cock in head.

The Three Sillies

ONCE upon a time there was a farmer and his wife who had one daughter, and she was courted by a gentleman. Every evening he used to come and see her, and stop to supper at the farmhouse, and the daughter used to be sent down into the cellar to draw the beer for supper. 

So one evening she had gone down to draw the beer, and she happened to look up at the ceiling while she was drawing, and she saw a mallet stuck in one of the beams. It must have been there a long, long time, but somehow or other she had never noticed it before, and she began a-thinking. And she thought it was very dangerous to have that mallet there, for she said to herself: 'Suppose him and me was to be married, and we was to have a son, and he was to grow up to be a man, and come down into the cellar to draw the beer, like as I'm doing now, and the mallet was to fall on his head and kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!' And she put down the candle and the jug, and sat herself down and began a-crying.

Well, they began to wonder upstairs how it was that she was so long drawing the beer, and her mother went down to see after her, and she found her sitting on the settle crying, and the beer running over the floor. 'Why, whatever is the matter?' said her mother. 'Oh, mother!' says she, 'look at that horrid mallet! Suppose we was to be married, and was to have a son, and he was to grow up, and was to come down to the cellar to draw the beer, and the mallet was to fall on his head and kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!' 'Dear, dear! what a dreadful thing it would be!' said the mother, and she sat down aside of the daughter and started a-crying too. 

Then after a bit the father began to wonder that they didn't come back, and he went down into the cellar to look after them himself, and there they two sat a-crying, and the beer running all over the floor. 'Whatever is the matter?' says he. 'Why,' says the mother, 'look at that horrid mallet. Just suppose, if our daughter and her sweetheart was to be married, and was to have a son, and he was to grow up, and was to come down into the cellar to draw the beer, and the mallet was to fall on his head and kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!' 'Dear, dear, dear! so it would!' said the father, and he sat himself down aside of the other two, and started a-crying.

Now the gentleman got tired of stopping up in the kitchen by himself, and at last he went down into the cellar, too, to see what they were after; and there they three sat a-crying side by side, and the beer running all over the floor. And he ran straight and turned the tap. Then he said: 'Whatever are you three doing, sitting there crying, and letting the beer run all over the floor?' 'Oh!' says the father, 'look at that horrid mallet! Suppose you and our daughter was to be married, and was to have a son, and he was to grow up, and was to come down into the cellar to draw the beer, and the mallet was to fall on his head and kill him!' And then they all started a-crying worse than before. 

But the gentleman burst out a-laughing, and reached up and pulled out the mallet, and then he said: 'I've travelled many miles, and I never met three such big sillies as you three before; and now I shall start out on my travels again, and when I can find three bigger sillies than you three, then I'll come back and marry your daughter.' So he wished them good-bye, and started off on his travels, and left them all crying because the girl had lost her sweetheart.

~ ~ ~

Well, he set out, and he travelled a long way, and at last he came to a woman's cottage that had some grass growing on the roof. And the woman was trying to get her cow to go up a ladder to the grass, and the poor thing durst not go.

So the gentleman asked the woman what she was doing. 'Why, lookye,' she said, 'look at all that beautiful grass. I'm going to get the cow on to the roof to eat it. She'll be quite safe, for I shall tie a string round her neck, and pass it down the chimney, and tie it to my wrist as I go about the house, so she can't fall off without my knowing it.' 'Oh, you poor silly!' said the gentleman, 'you should cut the grass and throw it down to the cow!' But the woman thought it was easier to get the cow up the ladder than to get the grass down, so she pushed her and coaxed her and got her up, and tied a string round her neck, and passed it down the chimney, and fastened it to her own wrist. And the gentleman went on his way, but he hadn't gone far when the cow tumbled off the roof, and hung by the string tied round her neck, and it strangled her. And the weight of the cow tied to her wrist pulled the woman up the chimney, and she stuck fast half-way and was smothered in the soot.

Well, that was one big silly.

And the gentleman went on and on, and he went to an inn to stop the night, and they were so full at the inn that they had to put him in a double-bedded room, and another traveller was to sleep in the other bed. The other man was a very pleasant fellow, and they got very friendly together; but in the morning, when they were both getting up, the gentleman was surprised to see the other hang his trousers on the knobs of the chest of drawers and run across the room and try to jump into them, and he tried over and over again and couldn't manage it; and the gentleman wondered whatever he was doing it for. At last he stopped and wiped his face with his handkerchief. 'Oh dear,' he says, 'I do think trousers are the most awkwardest kind of clothes that ever were. I can't think who could have invented such things. It takes me the best part of an hour to get into mine every morning, and I get so hot! How do you manage yours?' So the gentleman burst out a-laughing, and showed him how to put them on; and he was very much obliged to him, and said he never should have thought of doing it that way.

So that was another big silly.

Then the gentleman went on his travels again; and he came to a village, and outside the village there was a pond, and round the pond was a crowd of people. And they had got rakes, and brooms, and pitchforks reaching into the pond; and the gentleman asked what was the matter.

'Why,' they say, 'matter enough! Moon's tumbled into the pond, and we can't rake her out anyhow!' So the gentleman burst out a-laughing, and told them to look up into the sky, and that it was only the shadow in the water. But they wouldn't listen to him, and abused him shamefully, and he got away as quick as he could.

So there was a whole lot of sillies bigger than them three sillies at home. So the gentleman turned back home and married the farmer' s daughter, and if they didn't live happy for ever after, that's nothing to do with you or me.


NOTES

SOURCE From Folk-Lore Journal, ii, 40-43; to which it was communicated by Miss C. Burne.


PARALLELS Prof. Stephens gave a variant from his own memory in Folk-Lore Record, iii, 155, as told in Essex at the beginning of the century. Mr Toulmin Smith gave another version in The Constitutional, July 1, 1853, which was translated by his daughter and contributed to Mélusine, t. ii. An Oxfordshire version was given in Notes and Queries, April 17, 1852. It occurs also in Ireland, Kennedy, Fireside Stories, p. 9. It is Grimm's Kluge Else (No. 34) and is spread through the world. Mr Clouston devotes the seventh chapter of his Book of Noodles to the Quest of the Three Noodles.