August 9. Story of the Day: Cat and Parrot

This is a story I found in How to tell stories to children by Sara Cone Bryant.

You can also find this story as told by Crooke and Rouse in their book of folktales from India. If you compare the two versions, you will see that Bryant has adapted the story for school children, and she has also left out the starting point of the story when the parrot earns the cat's enmity by being very lazy about the farmwork they are supposed to share.

The version by Crooke and Rouse uses the phrase "Gobble, gobble, slip, slop" one time, while Bryant turns that into the refrain of the story repeated over and over: "slip! slop! gobble!" There is even a recent children's book based on this story which uses that refrain as the title: Gobble, Gobble, Slip, Slop: A Tale of a Very Greedy Cat by Meilo So.

The story is classified as ATU 2028. The Devouring Animal that was Cut Open, and you might compare this story from India to the Norwegian story of The Greedy Cat: the details are different, but the stories are basically "the same" as you will see.

And if you are looking for more, here are the previous Stories-of-the-Day.

THE CAT AND THE PARROT

(audio version)

Once there was a cat, and a parrot. And they had agreed to ask each other to dinner, turn and turn about: first the cat should ask the parrot, then the parrot should invite the cat, and so on. It was the cat's turn first.

Now the cat was very mean. He provided nothing at all for dinner except a pint of milk, a little slice of fish, and a biscuit. The parrot was too polite to complain, but he did not have a very good time.

When it was his turn to invite the cat, he cooked a fine dinner. He had a roast of meat, a pot of tea, a basket of fruit, and, best of all, he baked a whole clothes-basketful of little cakes! — little, brown, crispy, spicy cakes!

Oh, I should say as many as five hundred.

And he put four hundred and ninety-eight of the cakes before the cat, keeping only two for himself.

Well, the cat ate the roast, and drank the tea, and sucked the fruit, and then he began on the pile of cakes. He ate all the four hundred and ninety-eight cakes, and then he looked round and said, "I'm hungry; haven't you anything to eat?"

"Why," said the parrot, "here are my two cakes, if you want them?"

The cat ate up the two cakes, and then he licked his chops and said, "I am beginning to get an appetite; have you anything to eat?"

"Well, really," said the parrot, who was now rather angry, "I don't see anything more, unless you wish to eat me!"

He thought the cat would be ashamed when he heard that— but the cat just looked at him and licked his chops again, — and slip! slop! gobble! down his throat went the parrot!

Then the cat started down the street. An old woman was standing by, and she had seen the whole thing, and she was shocked that the cat should eat his friend. \

"Why, cat!" she said, " how dreadful of you to eat your friend the parrot!"

"Parrot, indeed!" said the cat. "What's a parrot to me ? — I've a great mind to eat you, too." And — before you could say "Jack Robinson" — slip! slop! gobble! down went the old woman!

Then the cat started down the road again, walking like this, because he felt so fine.

Pretty soon he met a man driving a donkey.

The man was beating the donkey, to hurry him up, and when he saw the cat he said, "Get out of my way, cat; I'm in a hurry and my donkey might tread on you."

"Donkey, indeed!" said the cat, "much I care for a donkey! I have eaten five hundred cakes, I've eaten my friend the parrot, I've eaten an old woman, — what's to hinder my eating a miserable man and a donkey?"

And slip! slop! gobble! down went the old man and the donkey.

Then the cat walked on down the road, jauntily, like this. After a little, he met a procession, coming that way. The king was at the head, walking proudly with his newly married bride, and behind him were his soldiers, marching, and behind them were ever and ever so many elephants, walking two by two.

The king felt very kind to everybody, because he had just been married, and he said to the cat, "Get out of my way, pussy, get out of my way, — my elephants might hurt you."

(illustration by Patten Wilson)

"Hurt me!" said the cat, shaking his fat sides. "Ho, ho ! I've eaten five hundred cakes, I've eaten my friend the parrot, I've eaten an old woman, I've eaten a man and a donkey; what's to hinder my eating a beggarly king?"

And slip! slop! gobble! down went the king; down went the queen; down went the soldiers, —and down went all the elephants!

Then the cat went on, more slowly; he had really had enough to eat, now. But a little farther on he met two land-crabs, scuttling along in the dust. "Get out of our way, pussy," they squeaked.

"Ho, ho ho!" cried the cat in a terrible voice. "I've eaten five hundred cakes, I've eaten my friend the parrot, I've eaten an old woman, a man with a donkey, a king, a queen, his men-at-arms, and all his elephants; and now I'll eat you too."

And slip! slop! gobble! down went the two land-crabs.

When the land-crabs got down inside, they began to look around. It was very dark, but they could see the poor king sitting in a corner with his bride on his arm; she had fainted.

Near them were the men-at-arms, treading on one another's toes, and the elephants, still trying to form in twos, — but they couldn't, because there was not room. In the opposite corner sat the old 'woman, and near her stood the man and his donkey. But in the other corner was a great pile of cakes, and by them perched the parrot, his feathers all drooping.

"Let's get to work!" said the land-crabs.

And, snip, snap, they began to make a little hole in the side, with their sharp claws. Snip, snap, snip, snap, — till it was big enough to get through. Then out they scuttled.

Then out walked the king, carrying his bride; out marched the men-at-arms; out tramped the elephants, two by two; out came the old man, beating his donkey; out walked the old woman, scolding the cat; and last of all, out hopped the parrot, holding a cake in each claw. (You remember, two cakes was all he wanted?)

But the poor cat had to spend the whole day sewing up the hole in his coat!

July 14. Story of the Day: Susku and Mushu

This is another story from Persian Tales by D.L.R. Lorimer and E.O. Lorimer with illustrations by Hilda Roberts, and you will see the same story opening formulas and closing formulas here as in the other stories I've taken from this book: The Fox's Pilgrimage to Mecca and The Mouse's Tail.

Watch out for the two uses of "ash" in this story: there is the usual English word ashes, but also Persian ash, which is a type of stew. You can find out more about ash at Wikipedia.

This type of story is classified as ATU 2023. Little Ant Marries, but it also shares the story motif of the chain of mourners with the related type: ATU 2022 The Death of the Little Hen. Storytellers are very adept at the mixing-and-matching of motifs. That makes a muddle of the folktale classifications schemes, but it also leads to all kinds of new stories!

And for yet more stories, you can click here for previous Stories-of-the-Day.

SUSKU AND MUSHU

Once upon a time there was a time when there was no one but God.

There was a Mouse who was called Mushu, and a little Beetle whose name was Susku. Susku was going along one day dressed up in her very best clothes when Master Mousie came out of his hole just in front of her, and said: "Whither away, with your cotton chader and your silken vest and your golden heels?"

"I'm going off to get married, and to get married, and to eat only the finest white bread," answered she, "and to ask no favour of any man."

Then Mushu asked: "Would you marry me?"

"Well," said Susku, "if I marry you, what will you put me to sleep on?"

"On a basket of dates."

"Oh," cried she, "now, just look, how could any one sleep on anything so sticky-wicky?"

"Then I'll put you to sleep on a skin of clarified butter."

"But now, how could any one sleep on anything so greasy-weasy?"

"All right, then, I'll put you to sleep on a sack of walnuts."

"But how could any one sleep on anything so nobbly-wobbly?"

"Well, then," said Master Mousie, "I'll put you to sleep in my own little arms."

And Susku said: "Right you are."

Then she asked: "And when we quarrel what will you beat me with?"

"With the pole of the weighing-machine."

"I'll die," said Susku.

"Then," said Mushu, "I'll beat you with my own little tail."

And Susku said: "Right you are."

When they had agreed about this Susku went off to the bath. As she was coming out and was just crossing a little stream, she fell in. There was a farmer-man there who was managing the irrigation and watching the flow of the water.

Susku called out to him: "Hullo, brother, run to Master Mousie and tell him that his lover and his sweetheart is in the water, and say: 'Bring a little ladder of gold and take your sweetheart out of the water.'"

So off went the farmer and told Mushu. Master Mousie ran to the door of the greengrocer's shop and stole two carrots, and with his little teeth he cut them up and carved them out and made a little ladder of gold and carried it to the stream. And he pulled Susku up out of the water, and they got married, and he was her husband and she was his wife. And Master Mousie carried her off to his home.

One day he said: "Wife, I want some nice ash. Go and cook me a little." As soon as he had gone out Susku made the broth and put the pot on the fire and cut up some fine strips of dough and went to put them in it, but the wind came and lifted her up in the air and threw her down into the pot of ash. When poor Mushu came home he saw that Susku had fallen into the pot of broth and been drowned. And so full of sorrow was he that he went to the fireplace and began to throw ashes on his head.

Just then a crow happened to pass that way and said to Master Mousie: "What's the matter with you?" and he said: "Haven't you heard?
Susku fell into the pot
And Mushu poured ashes on his head."

And the crow said: "Oh, I am so sorry," and gave himself a shake and shook all his feathers out and went and sat on a tree.

And the tree asked: "Crow, why have you shaken your feathers out?"

"Haven't you heard?
Susku fell into the pot,
Mushu poured ashes on his head,
And the crow shook his feathers out."

The tree said: "Oh, I am so sorry," and gave herself a shake and shed all her leaves.

The waters came to the foot of the tree to water her. They asked: "Tree, why have you shed your leaves?"

"Haven't you heard?
Susku fell into the pot,
Mushu poured ashes on his head,
The crow shook his feathers out,
And the tree shed her leaves."

The waters said: "Oh, we are so sorry," and they turned all muddy, and went out into the desert to water the corn. The corn asked: "Waters, why are you all muddy?"

"Haven't you heard?
Susku fell into the pot,
Mushu poured ashes on his head,
The crow shook his feathers out,
The tree shed her leaves,
And the waters turned muddy."

Then the stalks of corn said: "Oh, we are so sorry," and they put their heads on the ground and their feet in the air.

The farmer happened to pass that way; he asked: "O stalks of corn, what are you all doing, standing on your heads?"

"Haven't you heard?
Susku fell into the pot,
Mushu poured ashes on his head,
The crow shook his feathers out,
The tree shed her leaves,
The waters turned muddy,
And the stalks of corn stood on their heads."

Then the farmer said: "Oh, I am so sorry," and he fixed his spade in the ground and ran the handle of it right through his body.

The farmer's daughter was bringing his dinner out to him, and she said: "Daddy, how did you get like this?"

"Haven't you heard?
Susku fell into the pot,
Mushu poured ashes on his head,
The crow shook his feathers out,
The tree shed her leaves,
The waters turned muddy,
The stalks of corn stood on their heads,
And the farmer drove a spade through his body."

Then the farmer's daughter, who had a dish of curds in her hand, said: "Oh, I am so sorry," and threw the curds all over herself and ran to her mother.

Her mother was sitting beside the griddle cooking griddle-cakes, and she said: "Darling, what have you done?"

"Haven't you heard?
Susku fell into the pot,
Mushu poured ashes on his head,
The crow shook his feathers out,
The tree shed her leaves,
The waters turned muddy,
The stalks of corn stood on their heads,
The farmer drove a spade through his body,
And your daughter was covered with curds."

Then her mother said: "Oh, I am so sorry," and cut off her two thumbs and threw them on the griddle, and they became griddle-cakes.

And now my story has come to an end, but the sparrow never got home.

July 13. Story of the Day: Old Woman and Old Man

Yesterday, I shared a Greek story, Pepper-Corn, that belongs to the folktale type ATU 2022 The Death of the Little Hen, and I wanted to share another example of this story type today. This one comes from Roumanian Fairy Tales by Mite Kremnitz.

As you will see, the story starts out with the typical fairy-tale motif of a couple who want a child... but after they get their fairy-tale child, things do not go as hoped. This is a chain-tale type of story (chain of mourners), but unlike yesterday's story, it is not told in accumulative style.

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

THE OLD WOMAN AND THE OLD MAN

(wikimedia)

Once upon a time there was an old man and an old woman who had not a single child in their old age, and it was very hard for them because they had no help, not even to light the fire; when they came home from working in the fields, they were obliged to begin with lighting the fire and then prepare their food.

One day, when they were fretting and consulting each other, they determined to look for children whatever might happen. The old man went one way, the old woman another, to find a child somewhere. The old man met a dog, the old woman a mouse.

When they met again the old woman asked, "Husband, what have you found?"

"A little dog. And you, wife?"

"A little mouse."

They now agreed to adopt the mouse for a child and drive the dog away, so the couple returned with the mouse, greatly delighted because they had found what they sought, that is, a child.

On reaching home the old woman began to make a fire; then she set the pot of sour buttermilk on to boil, and left the mouse to watch that it did not fall over, while she went to work with the old man in the fields.

After she had gone, the porridge boiled and splashed over the top of the pot; the mouse, which was sitting on the hearth, said, "Porridge, don't jump on me or I'll jump on you." But the buttermilk did not stop and still splashed over the brim. When the mouse saw this, it grew angry and leaped straight into the pot.

When the old people returned from hoeing and called their child, there was no child to be found. After searching for it a long time without success, they sat sadly down to eat their dinner. Yet they ate the porridge with great relish until, when the old woman emptied the dish she found at the bottom—what? The little mouse, their child, dead!

She began, "Husband, husband, here it is, our child is drowned in the buttermilk."

"How is that possible, wife!" replied the bearded old fellow.

When they saw this terrible accident, they began to weep and lament bitterly; the old man in his grief tore his beard, and the old woman pulled the hair out of her head.

The old man left the house with tearful eyes and touzled beard; on the bough of a tree, in front of the hut, perched a magpie, which seeing him asked, "Why have you pulled out your beard, old man?"

"Oh, my dear bird, how can I help tearing my beard, when my little child has drowned itself in the pot of porridge and is dead?"

When the magpie heard this, it tore out all its feathers, leaving nothing but the tail.

The old woman set off with her bald head to the well, to get a jug of water to wash the dead body of her child. By the well stood a girl with a pitcher, who had come to draw water; when she saw the old woman she asked, "My, old woman, why have you torn the hair out of your head till you are perfectly bald?"

"Alas, my darling, how can I help tearing my hair and making myself bald, when my little mouse is dead?"

The girl, in her grief, smashed her pitcher in two, then she hurried to the empress to tell her the story; the royal lady, as soon as she heard it, fell down from the balcony, broke her ankle, and died, while the emperor, out of love for his wife, went away and became a monk in the monastery of Lies, beyond the Country of Truth. . . while I . . .

Acquaintance made with grandsires old,
To whom this simple tale I told;
It seemed to them such perfect chaff
That its bare memory raised a laugh.

CHAIN: father - magpie / mother - girl - empress - emperor

July 10. Story of the Day: The Mouse's Tail

This is another story from Persian Tales by D.L.R. Lorimer and E.O. Lorimer. It is an example of ATU 2034. The Mouse Regains its Tail... although in this version, the mouse has not regained his tail by the story's end! Instead, the story ends abruptly with a story-ending formula that occurs in many of the Persian tales. The actual chain could either go on and on, or we could imagine that the blacksmith might comply, allowing the poor mouse to work her way on back down to the start of the chain, with the cobbler sewing the tail back on.

The story makes reference to the Jews of Iran, and you can find out more about the Persian Jews at Wikipedia. The story also makes reference to Gypsies, the Roma people, who have also lived in Iran for many centuries. You can read in Wikipedia about the legend from the Persian epic Shahnameh about how the Roma came to Iran.

Looking for more stories? Click here for previous Stories-of-the-Day. You can also find several other stories from Lorimer's Persian Tales!

THE SAD TALE

OF THE MOUSE'S TAIL

(Public Domain Pictures)

Once upon a time there was a time when there was no one but God.

The Mouse went out a-stealing and fell into a trap, and her tail got torn off.

Away she went to the Cobbler and said:
Cobbler, Cobbler, sew on my tail!

The Cobbler said: "Run away and bring me some thread so that I can sew on your tail."

The Mouse ran to the Jew and said:
Jew, Jew, give me a thread
To give to the Cobbler to sew on my tail.

"Bring me an egg," said the Jew, "and I'll give you a thread."

So she came to the Hen and said:
Tutoo, Tutoo, give me an egg
To give to the Jew, who'll give me a thread
To give to the Cobbler to sew on my tail.

The Hen said: "Go and bring me a grain of corn and I'll give you an egg."

So she came to the Corn Heap and said:
Corn Heap, Corn Heap, give me a grain
To give to the Hen, who'll give me an egg
To give to the Jew, who'll give me a thread
To give to the Cobbler to sew on my tail.

"Bring me a sieve," said the Corn Heap, "so that I can get you a grain of corn."

So she came to the Tinker and said:
Gipsy, Gipsy, give me a sieve
To give to the Corn Heap, who'll give me a grain
To give to the Hen, who'll give me an egg
To give to the Jew, who'll give me a thread
To give to the Cobbler to sew on my tail.

"Go and bring me a goat-skin," said the Tinker, "so that I may make a sieve for you."

So she came to the Goat and said:
Goat, Goat, give me a skin
To give to the Tinker, who'll make me a sieve
To give to the Corn Heap, who'll give me a grain
To give to the Hen, who'll give me an egg
To give to the Jew, who'll give me a thread
To give to the Cobbler to sew on my tail.

The Goat said: "Go and bring me some grass, and I'll give you a skin."

So she came to the Farmer and said:
Farmer, Farmer, give me some grass
To give to the Goat, who'll give me a skin
To give to the Tinker, who'll make me a sieve
To give to the Corn Heap, who'll give me a grain
To give to the Hen, who'll give me an egg
To give to the Jew, who'll give me a thread
To give to the Cobbler to sew on my tail.

"Go and bring me a spade," said the Farmer, "so that I can dig you up some grass."

So she came to the Blacksmith and said:
Blacksmith, Blacksmith, give me a spade
To give to the Farmer, who'll give me some grass
To give to the Goat, who'll give me a skin
To give to the Tinker, who'll make me a sieve
To give to the Corn Heap, who'll give me a grain
To give to the Hen, who'll give me an egg
To give to the Jew, who'll give me a thread
To give to the Cobbler
TO SEW ON MY TAIL!

And now my story has come to an end, but the sparrow never got home.

CHAIN: cobbler/thread - Jew/egg - hen/grain - heap/sieve - tinker/skin - goat/grass - farmer/space - blacksmith

July 8. Story of the Day: Rattlin' Bog

Today's story is one you can sing along with (see music video at bottom of post).
The lyrics are from a a version of this traditional Irish folksong that I found in Hi! ho! The rattlin' bog, and other folk songs by John Langstaff (1969). You can find out more about "The Rattlin' Bog" at Wikipedia.

This is Roud 129, which also includes the song Green Grass Grew All Around; you can find a fun discussion of this song type, and "Rattlin' Bog" in particular, at Mudcat. I like the "rattling bog" version very much; the word "rattling" means "something very good of its kind (used for emphasis)."

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

THE RATTLIN' BOG

(check out the slideshow for the whole song!)

Hi! Ho! The rattlin' bog and the bog down in the valley-O,
Hi! Ho! The rattlin' bog and the bog down in the valley-O.

Now in this bog,
there was a tree,
a rare tree, a rattlin' tree;
The tree in the bog,
And the bog down in the valley-O!
Hi! Ho! The rattlin' bog and the bog down in the valley-O,
Hi! Ho! The rattlin' bog and the bog down in the valley-O.

Now on this tree,
there was a limb,
a rare limb, a rattlin' limb;
The limb on the tree,
The tree in the bog,
And the bog down in the valley-O!
Hi! Ho! The rattlin' bog and the bog down in the valley-O,
Hi! Ho! The rattlin' bog and the bog down in the valley-O.

Now on this limb,
there was a branch,
a rare branch, a rattlin' branch;
The branch on the limb,
The limb on the tree,
The tree in the bog,
And the bog down in the valley-O!
Hi! Ho! The rattlin' bog and the bog down in the valley-O,
Hi! Ho! The rattlin' bog and the bog down in the valley-O.

Now on this branch,
there was a nest,
a rare nest, a rattlin' nest;
The nest on the branch,
The branch on the limb,
The limb on the tree,
The tree in the bog,
And the bog down in the valley-O!
Hi! Ho! The rattlin' bog and the bog down in the valley-O,
Hi! Ho! The rattlin' bog and the bog down in the valley-O.

Now in this nest,
there was a egg,
a rare egg, a rattlin' egg;
The egg in the nest,
The nest on the branch,
The branch on the limb,
The limb on the tree,
The tree in the bog,
And the bog down in the valley-O!
Hi! Ho! The rattlin' bog and the bog down in the valley-O,
Hi! Ho! The rattlin' bog and the bog down in the valley-O.

Now in this egg,
there was a bird,
a rare bird, a rattlin' bird;
The bird in the egg,
The egg in the nest,
The nest on the branch,
The branch on the limb,
The limb on the tree,
The tree in the bog,
And the bog down in the valley-O!
Hi! Ho! The rattlin' bog and the bog down in the valley-O,
Hi! Ho! The rattlin' bog and the bog down in the valley-O.


You will find lots of music videos at YouTube; here's one I liked by Rula Bula:

July 1. Story of the Day: Kid Do Go

This item comes from The Passover Song of the Kid and an Equivalent from New England by William Wells Newell (and for the Passover song referred to in the title, see this post: Chad Gadya - One Goat).

This is another example of ATU 2030. The Old Woman and her Pig, with a stubborn little goat instead of a pig. Newell details his source in the note below, dating back to around the year 1800 (or older, of course).

For audio, see the bottom of the post, and for more stories, here are the previous Stories-of-the-Day.

KID DO GO

Old London Bridge in 1745 by J.J. Dodd

As I was going over London Bridge,
I found a penny ha'penny, and bought me a kid.
Kid, do go.
Know by the moonlight it's almost midnight,
Time kid and I were home an hour and a half ago.

Went a little further, and found a stick.
Stick, do beat kid,
Kid won't go.
Know by the moonlight it's almost midnight,
Time kid and I were home an hour and a half ago.

Went a little further, and found fire.
Fire, do burn stick,
Stick won't beat kid,
Kid won't go.
Know by the moonlight it's almost midnight,
Time kid and I were home an hour and a half ago.

Went a little further, and found water.
Water, do quench fire,
Fire won't burn stick,
Stick won't beat kid,
Kid won't go.
Know by the moonlight it's almost midnight,
Time kid and I were home an hour and a half ago.

Went a little further, and found ox.
Ox, do drink water,
Water won't quench fire,
Fire won't burn stick,
Stick won't beat kid,
Kid won't go.
Know by the moonlight it's almost midnight,
Time kid and I were home an hour and a half ago.

Went a little further, and found butcher.
Butcher, do kill ox,
Ox won't drink water,
Water won't quench fire,
Fire won't burn stick,
Stick won't beat kid,
Kid won't go.
Know by the moonlight it's almost midnight,
Time kid and I were home an hour and a half ago.

Went a little further, and found rope.
Rope, do 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 kid,
Kid won't go.
Know by the moonlight it's almost midnight,
Time kid and I were home an hour and a half ago.

Rope began to hang butcher,
Butcher began to kill ox,
Ox began to drink water,
Water began to quench fire,
Fire began to burn stick,
Stick began to beat kid,
Kid began to go.
Know by the moonlight it's almost midnight,
Time kid and I were home an hour and a half ago.

NOTES

I now print for the first time a version obtained by myself, many years ago, from the recitation of Miss Lydia R. Nichols of Salem, Mass., at the time aged 88 years, who retained the words as a reminiscence of her earliest infancy; the date of the rhyme therefore goes back to about 1800.

~ ~ ~

Here's an audio recording by yours truly :-)

June 21. Story of the Day: Fishing Simon

This song comes from Negro Folk Rhymes by Thomas Talley, the first African-American to publish a book of folk rhymes and songs; you can read more about the remarkable Dr. Talley at Wikipedia.

Based on the West African story about a pigeon who behaves very much like the fish in this story, I've decided this story can be classified as ATU 2041. The Bird Indifferent to Pain. Luckily for the hero of this story, the fish are not as dangerous as the devil-pigeon! You can read that story here: The Devil Turns Pigeon. The indestructible bird also shows up in stories from India like The Mango Bird. I like this fish version the best though!

I enjoyed finding this story even more because a friend of mine's son, named Simon, is a professional fishing guide in east Texas (Lake Livingston); here's his site: Simon Cosper's Get the Net Guide Service. Luckily, he has not met any supernatural fish like the one in this story!

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

FISHING SIMON

Simon tuck his hook an' pole,
An' fished on Sunday we's been told.
Fish dem water death bells ring,
Talk from out'n de water, sing—

"Bait yō' hook, Simon!
Drap yō' line, Simon!
Now ketch me, Simon!
Pull me out, Simon!
Take me home, Simon!
Now clean me, Simon!
Cut me up now, Simon!
Now salt me, Simon!
Now fry me, Simon!
Dish me up now, Simon!
Eat me all, Simon!"

Simon e't till he wus full.
Still dat fish keep his plate full.
Simon want no mō' at all,
Fish say dat he mus' eat all.
Simon's sick, so he throw up!
He give Sunday fishin' up.

(pixabay)

The Cat who Ate the Kheer

This wonderful story is contributed from the Marathi by Prof. Smita Pawaskar. You can read about the delicious pudding called kheer at Wikipedia.

This would be classified as ATU 15, Stealing the Partner's Butter.

THE CAT WHO ATE THE KHEER

(kheer ingredients)

A sparrow, a monkey and a cat used to live together in a small hovel. They scrounged for food and were happy enough.

One day the cat said to the other two, “Let’s make some kheer. Monkey, you go get some jaggery. Sparrow, you bring the rice, even if you have to make fifty trips. And I’ll get the milk.”

The others thought this was an excellent idea. The monkey brought a lump of jaggery. The sparrow brought the rice even though it took her fifty trips.  The cat stole a cup of milk and the monkey brought some water in a large earthenware pot from a pond nearby.

Then the cat heated everything in a saucepan. As the kheer cooked, it smelled delicious. When it was nearly ready, the cat told the others to go and have a dip in the pond. The kheer would be ready when they got back.

As soon as they were gone, the cat gobbled up all the kheer. She couldn’t resist it. Then she put the lid back on the saucepan, covered herself with a blanket and pretended to be sick.

“What’s wrong?” the others asked when they returned.

“I don’t feel very well,” moaned the cat.

“Sorry,” said the others. “Where is the kheer?”

“In the saucepan,” replied the cat.

When they looked in the saucepan, they found that all the kheer was gone.

“What happened to the kheer?” they asked the cat.

“Someone must have stolen it,” groaned the cat, “while you were gone.”

“We were only gone a minute,” Monkey protested. He began to suspect that the cat had gobbled up the kheer and was only pretending to be sick.

“There’s only one way to find out,” he told the other two. “We’ll take this earthen vessel, and float it on the pond upside down. Then we’ll each take a turn at balancing on top.  Anyone who has eaten the kheer is bound to be heavy, and that will make the pot sink.”

The cat had to agree to the test.

The monkey went first. The pot floated, the monkey sat on it and then jumped off.

The sparrow stood on it next and flew off with no trouble at all.

It was the cat’s turn. She was afraid she would be caught. She did her best to balance on the pot; but she trembled and quaked so much that the pot overturned and sank and so did the cat.

And that was the end of the poor, greedy, kheer-eating cat.


Here is a video of the story told in Marathi:

June 15. Story of the Day: Uncle Rat's Cap

Provided from the Marathi by Shrimati Jayashreedevi Shirole, via Suniti Namjoshi (more of her contributions). As you can see from the video at the bottom of this post, the story is alive and well in India. In the video title the king is mockingly called "Raja Bhikari," "The King Who Begs" (bhiksha are the alms you might give to a beggar) -- you'll see why at the end of the story, and after reading the English version, you'll be able to follow along with the video in the Marathi language.

I do not have a folktale type classification number for this, although there are other stories that include a series-of-professions. The ambitious rat in this story might remind you of the rat in the Punjabi story, The Rat's Wedding.

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

UNCLE RAT'S CAP

(screenshot from the Raja Bhikari video)

One day Uncle Rat found a piece of cloth. He took it to the dhobi [washerman] and said, “Please wash it for me.”

“Won’t,” said the dhobi. “Shan’t,” said the dhobi. “I have better things to do than washing your rag.”

“Well,” said the Rat.
“I’ll go to the police and tell on you. 
They’ll send four men who‘ll beat you blue. 
And then you’ll wish you had washed my rag.”

So the dhobi washed Uncle Rat’s rag.

Then the Rat took his rag to the dyer and said, “Please dye it for me.”

“Won’t,” said the dyer. “Can’t,” said the dyer.

And Uncle Rat said,
“I’ll go to the police and tell on you. 
They’ll send four men who’ll beat you blue. 
And then you’ll wish you had dyed my rag.”

So the dyer dyed Uncle Rat’s rag.

Uncle Rat went to the tailor next, and said, “Please make a cap for me.”

“Shan’t,” said the tailor, to which Uncle Rat replied,
“I’ll go to the police and tell on you. 
They’ll send four men who’ll beat you blue. 
And then you’ll wish you had made my cap.”

The tailor made Uncle Rat’s cap.

The Rat now wanted a tassel for it, so he went to the tassel maker and asked him to make a tassel for it.

“No,” said the tassel maker.

Uncle Rat said,
“I’ll go to the police and tell on you. 
They’ll send four men who’ll beat you blue. 
And you’ll wish you had fixed a tassel on my cap.”

So the tassel maker made a tassel for Uncle Rat’s cap.

Uncle Rat now had a splendid cap. He put it on, and sat in a doorway watching the King go by.

The King happened to see the cap. He told his courtiers to fetch it for him.

There wasn’t much the Rat could do, but he sang as loudly as he could,
“The King is a beggar 
And has run away with my beautiful cap.
The King is a beggar.
The King is a beggar
And has run away with my beautiful cap.”

The King felt silly when he heard this, so he returned the cap.

Uncle Rat put it on and now he sang more loudly than ever,
“The King is a coward 
And given me back my beautiful cap.
The King is a coward.
The King is a coward
And has given me back my beautiful cap.”

In this version, the rat goes to a dhobi, then a tailor, and then a woman who makes him a tassel (there is no dyer in this version). He then goes banging his drum into the presence of King Bhikari and makes fun of him: that drum is definitely a good accompaniment to the little rat's personality!

Balkoba Sangkame: Next time I'll get it right

Another story from the Marathi (India) by Shrimati Jayashreedevi Shirole, via Suniti Namjoshi (more contributions here), with notes also below the story.

This is ATU Tale Type 1696: What should I have done?

You can skip the somewhat scary clown and start the actual story at

BALKOBA SANGKAMÉ

(from the video)

One Sunday Balkoba Sangkame went to visit his aunt. When it was time to go home, his aunt gave him a lump of butter to take with him. Balkoba wrapped it up in a piece of paper and put it under his cap.  By the time he got home, the sun had melted the butter and it was trickling down his face.

His mother was a bit cross, but she explained to him that he should have wrapped up the butter in a banana leaf.

“Sorry,” said Balkoba. “Next time I’ll get it right.”

When Sunday came around, he went to visit his aunt again. This time she gave him a puppy. He wrapped up the puppy in a banana leaf and brought it home. The poor thing had nearly smothered to death.

His mother sighed and explained patiently that he should have tied a string around the puppy’s neck and led it back.

 “Sorry,” said Balkoba. “But next time I will get it right.”

It was Sunday again and he went to visit his aunt.  This time she gave him a jelabi to take back with him. He was determined to be careful. He tied a string around it and dragged it back.

His mother just looked at him sorrowfully and explained that jelabis are to be carried in a paper bag. And so the next time when his aunt gave him some buttermilk…

The tale of Balkoba Sangkame, who had to be told each time how to do things right, but who  managed somehow to get them wrong, is too long for one person to tell and so everyone is invited to help.


NOTES

Bal means child or boy, but when it’s turned into ‘Balkoba’  there’s a slightly sarcastic, though not unkind, tinge to it.  Marathi tends to be imbued with sarcasm and irony. Sangkamé refers to a person who has to be told to do something every single time and who never gets anything right. The word literally means ‘has to be told chores.’


Here is a video in Marathi:

June 14. Story of the Day: Grandchild and Crow

This comes from an old booklet by George Alexander Kohut: Some Passover rhymes and their parallels. In his discussion of Had Gadya, he offers a version from Thailand ("far-off Siam" as he says in his note).

The story refers to teelseed, which is another word for sesame seed; find out more at Wikipedia. Here is a Sudanese farmer harvesting sesame:

The story would be classified as ATU 2030. The Old Woman and her Pig, although in this case the difficult animal is the crow who is eating the crops. A distinctive feature of the resulting chain is the "strand" (beach, shoreline) which is asked to "hem in" the water, and then the elephant is asked to stomp on the strand. Usually the elephant is the one who is asked to drink up the water, but including the strand adds a new link to the chain!

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

THE GRANDCHILD AND THE CROW

Once grandmother and grandfather planted beans and teelseed and made the grandchild keep watch. The grandchild did not keep watch. Then the crow came and ate seven grains and seven measures of grandmother and grandfather's beans and teelseed; grandmother came, grandmother scolded, grandfather came, grandfather beat. 

"Go, go visit Brother Hunter." 

"O Brother Hunter, please, Brother Hunter, help to shoot the crow; the crow ate seven grains and seven measures of grandfather and grandmother's beans and teelseed; grandmother came, grandmother scolded, grandfather came, grandfather beat."

"What is that to me? Don't know, don't care. Go, go visit Brother Mouse." 

"O Brother Mouse, please, Brother Mouse, help to bite the bowstring of Brother Hunter. Brother Hunter does not shoot the crow; the crow ate seven grains and seven measures of grandfather and grandmother's beans and teelseed; grandmother came, grandmother scolded, grandfather came, grandfather beat."

"What is that to me? Don't know, don't care. Go, go visit Brother Cat." 

"O Brother Cat, please, Brother Cat, help to bite the mouse. The mouse does not bite the bowstring of Brother Hunter; Brother Hunter will not shoot the crow; the crow ate seven grains and seven measures of grandfather and grandmother's beans and teelseed; grandmother came, grandmother scolded, grandfather came, grandfather beat."

"What is that to me? Don't know, don't care. Go, go visit Brother Dog." 

"O Brother Dog, please, Brother Dog, help to bite the cat. The cat does not bite the mouse; mouse will not bite the bowstring of Brother Hunter; Brother Hunter will not shoot the crow; the crow ate seven grains and seven measures of grandfather and grandmother's beans and teelseed; grandmother came, grandmother scolded, grandfather came, grandfather beat."

"What is that to me? Don't know, don't care. Go, go visit Brother Earpick." 

"O Brother Earpick, please, Brother Earpick, help to clean the ear of the dog. The dog does not bite the cat; the cat will not bite the mouse; the mouse will not bite the bowstring of Brother Hunter; Brother Hunter will not shoot the crow; the crow ate seven grains and seven measures of grandfather and grandmother's beans and teelseed; grandmother came, grandmother scolded, grandfather came, grandfather beat." 

"What is that to me? Don't know, don't care. Go, go visit Brother Fire." 

"O Brother Fire, please, Brother Fire, help to burn the earpick. The earpick does not clean the ear of the dog; the dog will not bite the cat; the cat will not bite the mouse; the mouse will not bite the bowstring of Brother Hunter; Brother Hunter will not shoot the crow; the crow ate seven grains and seven measures of grandfather and grandmother's beans and teelseed; grandmother came, grandmother scolded, grandfather came, grandfather beat." 

"What is that to me? Don't know, don't care. Go, go visit Brother Water." 

"O Brother Water, please, Brother Water, help to extinguish the fire. The fire does not burn the earpick; the earpick will not clean the ear of the dog; the dog will not bite the cat; the cat will not bite the mouse; the mouse will not bite the bowstring of Brother Hunter; Brother Hunter will not shoot the crow; the crow ate seven grains and seven measures of grandfather and grandmother's beans and teelseed; grandmother came, grandmother scolded, grandfather came, grandfather beat." 

"What is that to me? Don't know, don't care. Go, go visit Brother Strand." 

"O Brother Strand, please, Brother Strand, help to hem in the water. The water does not extinguish the fire; the fire will not burn the earpick; the earpick will not clean the ear of the dog; the dog will not bite the cat; the cat will not bite the mouse; the mouse will not bite the bowstring of Brother Hunter; Brother Hunter will not shoot the crow; the crow ate seven grains and seven measures of grandfather and grandmother's beans and teelseed; grandmother came, grandmother scolded, grandfather came, grandfather beat." 

"What is that to me? Don't know, don't care. Go, go visit Brother Elephant."

(elephant in Thailand)

"O Brother Elephant, please, Brother Elephant, help to put down the strand. The strand does not hem in the water; the water will not extinguish the fire; the fire will not burn the earpick; the earpick will not clean the ear of the dog; the dog will not bite the cat; the cat will not bite the mouse; the mouse will not bite the bowstring of Brother Hunter; Brother Hunter will not shoot the crow; the crow ate seven grains and seven measures of grandfather and grandmother's beans and teelseed; grandmother came, grandmother scolded, grandfather came, grandfather beat." 

"What is that to me? Don't know, don't care. Go, go visit Brother Gnat." 

"O Brother Gnat, please, Brother Gnat, help to sting the elephant's eye. The elephant will not put down the strand; the strand will not hem in the water; the water will not extinguish the fire; the fire will not burn the earpick; the earpick will not clean the ear of the dog; the dog will not bite the cat; the cat will not bite the mouse; the mouse will not bite the bowstring of Brother Hunter; Brother Hunter will not shoot the crow; the crow ate seven grains and seven measures of grandfather and grandmother's beans and teelseed; grandmother came, grandmother scolded, grandfather came, grandfather beat." 

"All right. Ugh! Come on." 

The gnat went to sting the eye of the elephant. Then Brother Elephant said, "Don't sting me, please. Your servant will go and put down the strand." 

The strand then said, "Don't put me down, please. Your servant will hem in the water, when the water will extinguish the fire, and the fire will burn the earpick, and the earpick will clean the ear of the dog, and the dog will bite the cat, and the cat will bite the mouse, and the mouse will bite the bowstring of the hunter, and the hunter will shoot the crow." 

The crow said, "Don't shoot me, please. The crow will undertake to give back the beans and teelseed one hundred thousand fold and more." 

Little grandchild at last did its work well, and then the story comes to an end.

NOTES

Out of the many curious analogues to "Had Gadya" I select the following from far-off Slam, first printed in Truebuer's Record for February, 1890.


CHAIN: crow - hunter - mouse - cat - dog - earpick - fire - water - strand - elephant - gnat

June 13. Story of the Day: The Boy and the Goats

This is a folktale from Norway that is included in The McCloskey Primer by Margaret Orvis McCloskey, with illustrations by Charles Copeland.

This is classified as ATU 2030. The Old Woman and her Pig, although once again, the stubborn animal in question is not a pig, but goats who will not leave the turnip field. The chain of characters is also distinctive: instead of a mix of animals and inanimate objects, you will just see animals here, with a surprising little creature who gets the goats to finally go home!

Another distinctive feature of this story is that it also has a kind of chain-of-mourning like in ATU 2022 The Death of the Little Hen. As you will see, the characters weep when they cannot get the goats out of the turnip field, and their weeping is what prompts the recitation of the chain each time. Very elegant!

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

THE BOY AND THE GOATS

Now you shall hear!

There was once a boy who had three goats. All day they leaped and pranced and skipped and climbed up on the rocky hill, but at night the boy drove them home. One night, when he went to meet them, the frisky things leaped into a turnip field, and he could not get them out. Then the boy sat down on the hillside and cried.

As he sat there, a hare came along. "Why do you cry?" asked the hare.

"I cry because I can't get the goats out of the field," answered the boy.

"I'll do it," said the hare.

So he tried, but the goats would not come. Then the hare, too, sat down and cried.

Along came a fox. "Why do you cry?" asked the fox.

"I am crying because the boy cries," said the hare; "and the boy is crying because he cannot get the goats out of the turnip field."

"I'll do it!" said the fox.

So the fox tried, but the goats would not come. Then the fox also sat down and cried.

Soon after wolf came along. "Why do you cry?" asked the wolf.

"I am crying because the hare cries," said the fox, "and the hare cries because the boy cries, and the boy cries because he can't get the goats out of the turnip field."

"I'll do it!" said the wolf.

He tried, but the goats would not leave the field. So he sat down beside the others and began to cry too.

After a little, a bee flew over the hill and saw them all sitting there crying.

"Why do you cry?" said the bee to the wolf.

"I am crying because the fox cries, and the fox cries because the hare cries, and the hare cries because the boy cries, and the boy cries because he can't get the goats out of the turnip field."

"I'll do it!" said the bee.

Then the big animals and the boy all stopped crying a moment to laugh at the tiny bee. He do it, indeed, when they could not! But the tiny bee flew away into the turnip field and lit upon one of the goats and said, "Buz-z-z-z-z!"

And out ran the goats, every one!

NOTES

This Norse tale, found by Miss Emilie Poulsson in an old Norse reader, belongs to a type which, if one may judge from printed collections, is not so well known as the other types here illustrated. Interesting variants, however, are given in Russian, Italian, and Portuguese collections. In this story the series of personages forms a scale which suddenly decreases in physical power, and the conquest is made "not by might but by spirit."

CHAIN: boy - rabbit - fox - wolf - bee

June 10. Story of the Day: I Had a Little Overcoat

Thanks so much to Suniti Namjoshi for telling me about this song! She shared with me this enticing passage from The End of Days by Jenny Erpenbeck (translated from the German by Susan Bernofsky), now I really want to read this book; I had not heard about it before. Here is the reference to the chain-tale song:

… her great-grandmother would have braided her hair, singing a little song about a man who makes a coat out of an old piece of cloth, then when it’s gotten tattered he makes vest out of the coat, then makes a scarf from the tattered vest, a cap from the tattered scarf, a button from the tattered cap, a nothing at all from the button, and in the end he makes this song out of the nothing at all, but by then the braids would have been finished…

It turns out that this a famous Yiddish song, "Hob ikh mir a mantl," in which someone makes their worn-out coat into a jacket, the jacket into a vest, then the vest into a kerchief (a hat, a tie), with the last bit of fabric used to make a button... and when the button is lost, from the nothing that remains there comes a song! I've included the Yiddish lyrics at the bottom of this blog post.

Of the English versions I could find online, my favorite was this one as performed by Alina Celeste, who learned about the song from an illustrated children's book, Joseph Had a Little Overcoat by Simms Tabak.

I HAD A LITTLE OVERCOAT

I had a little overcoat much too old to sew.
Whatever could I do with it, I just didn't know.
So I thought what I could do
and gave myself a jacket that was almost new.

I had a little jacket much too old to sew.
Whatever could I do with it, I just didn't know.
So I thought what I could do
and gave myself a vest that was almost new.

I had a little vest much too old to sew.
Whatever could I do with it, I just didn't know.
So I thought what I could do
and gave myself a kerchief that was almost new.

I had a little kerchief much too old to sew
Whatever could I do with it, I just didn't know.
So I thought what I could do
and gave myself a button that was almost new.

I had a little button; where ever did it go?
What could I do with nothing? I just didn't know.
So I thought what I could do
and gave myself a song, and I sing it now to you.

Below are the Yiddish lyrics for the traditional folksong, and you can listen to a performance by Bonnie Abrams:

Hob ikh mir a mantl fun fartsaytikn shtof.
Tralalalalalalala.
Hot dos nit in zikh kayn gantsenem shtokh.
Tralalalalalalala.
Darum, hob ikh zikh batrakht.
Un fun dem mantl a rekl gemakht.
Tralalalalalalala.
Fun dem mantl a rekl gemakht.

Hob ikh mir a rekl fun fartsaytikn shtof.
Tralalalalalalala.
Hot dos nit in zikh kayn gantsenem shtokh.
Tralalalalalalala.
Darum, hob ikh zikh batrakht.
Un fun dem rekl a vestl gemakht.
Tralalalalalalala.
Fun dem rekl a vestl gemakht.

Hob ikh mir a vestl fun fartsaytikn shtof.
Tralalalalalalala.
Hot dos nit in zikh kayn gantsenem shtokh.
Tralalalalalalala.
Darum, hob ikh zikh batrakht.
Un fun dem vestl a shnipsl gemakht.
Tralalalalalalala.
Fun dem vestl a shnipsl gemakht.

Hob ikh mir a shnipsl fun fartsaytikn shtof.
Tralalalalalalala.
Hot dos nit in zikh kayn gantsenem shtokh.
Tralalalalalalala.
Darum, hob ikh zikh batrakht.
Un fun dem shnipsl a knepl gemakht.
Tralalalalalalala.
Fun dem shnipsl a knepl gemakht.

Hob ikh mir a knepl fun fartsaytikn shtof.
Tralalalalalalala.
Hot dos nit in zikh kayn gantsenem shtokh.
Tralalalalalalala.
Darum, hob ikh zikh batrakht.
Un fun dem knepl a gornitl gemakht.
Tralalalalalalala.
Fun dem knepl a gornitl gemakht.

Hob ikh mir a gornitl fun fartsaytikn shtof.
Tralalalalalalala.
Hot dos nit in zikh kayn gantsenem shtokh.
Tralalalalalalala.
Darum, hob ikh zikh batrakht.
Un fun dem gornitl a dos lidele gemakht.
Tralalalalalalala.
Fun dem gornitl a dos lidele gemakht.


CHAIN: coat (overcoat) - jacket - vest - kerchief (tie, hat) - button - song

June 8. Story of the Day: Derby Ram

This version of the song comes from The Ballads and Songs of Derbyshire by Llewellynn Jewitt, and the song is famous enough to have its own article at Wikipedia, where you can find other versions of the lyrics.

The ram is now the city emblem of Derby! You can find out more about the city of Derby at Wikipedia.

The song is classified as Roud 126, and it is a chain-tale based on a series of body parts. You can hear the tune here in this version sung by Sweeney's Men, an Irish band:

Here is a picture of a statue of the ram in sculpted by Michael Pegler:

DERBY RAM

As I was going to Darby, Sir,
All on a market day,
I met the finest Ram, Sir,
That ever was fed on hay.
Daddle-i-day, daddle-i-day,
Fal-de-ral, fal-de-ral, daddle-i-day.

This Ram was fat behind, Sir,
This Ram was fat before,
This Ram was ten yards high, Sir,
Indeed he was no more.
Daddle-i-day, daddle-i-day,
Fal-de-ral, fal-de-ral, daddle-i-day.

The Wool upon his back, Sir,
Reached up unto the sky,
The Eagles made their nests there, Sir,
For I heard the young ones cry.
Daddle-i-day, daddle-i-day,
Fal-de-ral, fal-de-ral, daddle-i-day.

The Wool upon his belly, Sir,
It dragged upon the ground,
It was sold in Darby town, Sir,
For forty thousand pound.
Daddle-i-day, daddle-i-day,
Fal-de-ral, fal-de-ral, daddle-i-day.

The space between his horns, Sir,
Was as far as a man could reach,
And there they built a pulpit
For the Parson there to preach.
Daddle-i-day, daddle-i-day,
Fal-de-ral, fal-de-ral, daddle-i-day.

The teeth that were in his mouth, Sir,
Were like a regiment of men;
And the tongue that hung between them, Sir,
Would have dined them twice and again.
Daddle-i-day, daddle-i-day,
Fal-de-ral, fal-de-ral, daddle-i-day.

This Ram jumped o'er a wall, Sir,
His tail caught on a briar,
It reached from Darby town, Sir,
All into Leicestershire.
Daddle-i-day, daddle-i-day,
Fal-de-ral, fal-de-ral, daddle-i-day.

And of this tail so long, Sir,
'Twas ten miles and an ell,
They made a goodly rope, Sir,
To toll the market bell.
Daddle-i-day, daddle-i-day,
Fal-de-ral, fal-de-ral, daddle-i-day.

This Ram had four legs to walk on, Sir,
This Ram had four legs to stand,
And every leg he had, Sir,
Stood on an acre of land.
Daddle-i-day, daddle-i-day,
Fal-de-ral, fal-de-ral, daddle-i-day.

The Butcher that killed this Ram, Sir,
Was drownded in the blood,
And the boy that held the pail, Sir,
Was carried away in the flood,
Daddle-i-day, daddle-i-day,
Fal-de-ral, fal-de-ral, daddle-i-day.

All the maids in Darby, Sir,
Came begging for his horns,
To take them to coopers,
To make them milking gawns.
Daddle-i-day, daddle-i-day,
Fal-de-ral, fal-de-ral, daddle-i-day.

The little boys of Darby, Sir,
They came to beg his eyes,
To kick about the streets, Sir,
For they were football size.
Daddle-i-day, daddle-i-day,
Fal-de-ral, fal-de-ral, daddle-i-day.

The tanner that tanned its hide, Sir,
Would never be poor any more,
For when he had tanned and retched it,
It covered all Sinfin Moor.
Daddle-i-day, daddle-i-day,
Fal-de-ral, fal-de-ral, daddle-i-day.

The jaws that were in his head, Sir,
They were so fine and thin,
They were sold to a Methodist Parson,
For a pulpit to preach in.
Daddle-i-day, daddle-i-day,
Fal-de-ral, fal-de-ral, daddle-i-day.

Indeed, Sir, this is true, Sir,
I never was taught to lie,
And had you been to Darby, Sir,
You'd have seen it as well as I.
Daddle-i-day, daddle-i-day,
Fal-de-ral, fal-de-ral, daddle-i-day.



NOTES

Another version has—
"The Wool upon his back, Sir,
Was worth a thousand pound,
The Wool upon his belly, Sir,
It trailed upon the ground."

Another version says—
"And every time he shifted them,
He covered an acre of land."

Another version has—
"And all the people of Darby
Were carried away in the flood."

"Gawn" is a provincialism for pail,—a milk pail.

Football was essentially a Derby game, and was played every year, frequently with highly disastrous consequences, until put down by the authorities a few years back. On Shrove Tuesday business was entirely suspended, and the townspeople being divided into two parties, — All Saints and St. Peters,—the ball was, at noon, thrown from the Town Hall to the densely packed masses in the market-place, the two parties each trying to "goal" it at their respective places. The fight—for it was nothing less—continued for many hours, and sewers, brook-courses, and even rivers, were invaded, and scores of people who were fortunate enough not to get killed or lamed, were stripped of their clothing in the fray.

retched = Stretched,—i.e., fastened it down with pegs to dry.

Sinfin Moor is a few miles from Derby. It is a place where, in former times, Derby races were held. Another version says "Swinscoe Moor," which is in the neighbourhood of Ashborne.

I take it that this verse is a later addition to the song, put in,probably, by some singer who was antagonistic to Methodism. It does not appear in most of the versions I have collected.

Another version says—
"And if you go to Darby, Sir,
You may eat a bit of the pie."


CHAIN: back - belly - head - teeth - tail - legs - blood -  horns - eyes - hide - jaws 

June 4. Story of the Day: Ehad mi-Yode'a.

In a previous post, I had shared the story of Chad Gadya, the Jewish Passover song about the goat. Today is another Passover item, a question-and-answer chain based on numbers. The English rendering below comes from an old booklet by George Alexander Kohut: Some Passover rhymes and their parallels. You can find out more at Wikipedia, where there are different versions in English, Hebrew, and Yiddish: Echad Mi Yodea.

This item has its own classification as ATU 2010 Ehad mi yodea, and you can find other number-based religious items there, like the wonderful Christmas carol Children, Go Where I Send Thee! Meanwhile, the "Twelve Days of Christmas" carol is a subclass of this same type: 2010A (which also contains secular number-series like The Gaping, Wide-mouthed, Waddling Frog).

EHAD MI-YODE'A

(ONE: who knows?)

Who knows what is just ONE?
I know of one. ONE is the God of the world.

Who knows what are just TWO?
I know two. There were TWO tables of the Covenant, ONE GOD of the world.

Who knows what were just THREE?
I know three. The three Patriarchs.
THREE Patriarchs, TWO tables of the Covenant, ONE GOD of the world.

Who knows what were just FOUR?
I know four. There were the four Mothers of Israel.
FOUR Mothers of Israel, THREE Patriarchs, TWO tables of the Covenant, ONE GOD of the world.

Who knows what are just FIVE?
I know five. There are five Books of Moses.
FIVE Books of Moses, FOUR Mothers of Israel, THREE Patriarchs, TWO tables of the Covenant, ONE GOD of the world.

Who knows what are just SIX?
I know six. There are six Books of the Mishnah.
SIX Books of the Mishnah, FIVE Books of Moses, FOUR Mothers of Israel, THREE Patriarchs, TWO tables of the Covenant, ONE GOD of the world.

(Behrman House video)

Who knows what are just SEVEN?
I know seven. There are seven days of the week.
SEVEN days of the week, SIX Books of the Mishnah, FIVE Books of Moses, FOUR Mothers of Israel, THREE Patriarchs, TWO tables of the Covenant, ONE GOD of the world.

Who knows what are just EIGHT?
I know eight. There are the eight days of initiation.
EIGHT davs of initiation, SEVEN days of the week, SIX Books of the Mishnah, FIVE Books of Moses, FOUR Mothers of Israel, THREE Patriarchs, TWO tables of the Covenant, ONE GOD of the world.

Who knows what are just NINE?
I know nine. There are the nine Moons of Birth.
NINE Moons of Birth. EIGHT davs of initiation, SEVEN days of the week, SIX Books of the Mishnah, FIVE Books of Moses, FOUR Mothers of Israel, THREE Patriarchs, TWO tables of the Covenant, ONE GOD of the world.

Who knows what are just TEN?
I know ten. There are the ten Commandments.
TEN Commandments, NINE Moons of Birth. EIGHT davs of initiation, SEVEN days of the week, SIX Books of the Mishnah, FIVE Books of Moses, FOUR Mothers of Israel, THREE Patriarchs, TWO tables of the Covenant, ONE GOD of the world.

Who knows what are just ELEVEN?
I know eleven. There are the eleven stars (in Joseph's dream).
ELEVEN stars (in Joseph's dream), TEN Commandments, NINE Moons of Birth. EIGHT davs of initiation, SEVEN days of the week, SIX Books of the Mishnah, FIVE Books of Moses, FOUR Mothers of Israel, THREE Patriarchs, TWO tables of the Covenant, ONE GOD of the world.

Who knows what are just TWELVE?
I know twelve. There were the twelve tribes of Israel.
TWELVE tribes of Israel, ELEVEN stars (in Joseph's dream), TEN Commandments, NINE Moons of Birth. EIGHT davs of initiation, SEVEN days of the week, SIX Books of the Mishnah, FIVE Books of Moses, FOUR Mothers of Israel, THREE Patriarchs, TWO tables of the Covenant, ONE GOD of the world.

Who knows what are just THIRTEEN?
I know thirteen. There are thirteen attributes of God.
THIRTEEN attributes of God, the TWELVE tribes of Israel, ELEVEN stars (in Joseph's dream), TEN Commandments, NINE Moons of Birth. EIGHT davs of initiation, SEVEN days of the week, SIX Books of the Mishnah, FIVE Books of Moses, FOUR Mothers of Israel, THREE Patriarchs, TWO tables of the Covenant, ONE GOD of the world.

CHAIN: 1 god - 2 tables - 3 patriarchs - 4 matriarchs - 5 Torah books - 6 Mishnah books - 7 days of week - 8 days of initiation - 9 moons - 10 commandments - 11 stars - 12 tribes - 13 attributes

June 1. Story of the Day: Alouette

I remember singing this song in school, as I am sure many of you did, but we never learned the English words: it's actually rather gruesome, as you will see below. This is a French-Canadian song, and I've included the French lyrics below, along with an English translation of the culmination at the bottom. You can find out more about the history of the song at Wikipedia.

I do not have a classification for this song because it is not a folktale, and it is also not a folksong that is included in the Roud index. Eventually I hope to make my own classification system based on different ways of building the chains and series, and this song is a perfect example of a cumulative series based on body parts.

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

ALOUETTE

(found at Homeschool Ways)

Alouette, gentille alouette,
Alouette, je te plumerai.

Je te plumerai la tête.
   Je te plumerai la tête.
Et la tête! Et la tête!
Alouette! Alouette!
A-a-a-ah
Alouette, gentille alouette,
Alouette, je te plumerai.

Je te plumerai le bec.
   Je te plumerai le bec.
Et le bec! Et le bec!
Et la tête! Et la tête!
Alouette! Alouette!
A-a-a-ah
Alouette, gentille alouette,
Alouette, je te plumerai.

Je te plumerai les yeux.
   Je te plumerai les yeux.
Et les yeux! Et les yeux!
Et le bec! Et le bec!
Et la tête! Et la tête!
Alouette! Alouette!
A-a-a-ah
Alouette, gentille alouette,
Alouette, je te plumerai.

Je te plumerai le cou.
   Je te plumerai le cou.
Et le cou! Et le cou!
Et les yeux! Et les yeux!
Et le bec! Et le bec!
Et la tête! Et la tête!
Alouette! Alouette!
A-a-a-ah
Alouette, gentille alouette,
Alouette, je te plumerai.

Je te plumerai les ailes.
   Je te plumerai les ailes.
Et les ailes! Et les ailes!
Et le cou! Et le cou!
Et les yeux! Et les yeux!
Et le bec! Et le bec!
Et la tête! Et la tête!
Alouette! Alouette!
A-a-a-ah
Alouette, gentille alouette,
Alouette, je te plumerai.

Je te plumerai les pattes.
   Je te plumerai les pattes.
Et les pattes! Et les pattes!
Et les ailes! Et les ailes!
Et le cou! Et le cou!
Et les yeux! Et les yeux!
Et le bec! Et le bec!
Et la tête! Et la tête!
Alouette! Alouette!
A-a-a-ah
Alouette, gentille alouette,
Alouette, je te plumerai.

Je te plumerai la queue.
   Je te plumerai la queue.
Et la queue! Et la queue!
Et les pattes! Et les pattes!
Et les ailes! Et les ailes!
Et le cou! Et le cou!
Et les yeux! Et les yeux!
Et le bec! Et le bec!
Et la tête! Et la tête!
Alouette! Alouette!
A-a-a-ah
Alouette, gentille alouette,
Alouette, je te plumerai.

Je te plumerai le dos.
   Je te plumerai le dos.
Et le dos! Et le dos!
Et la queue! Et la queue!
Et les pattes! Et les pattes!
Et les ailes! Et les ailes!
Et le cou! Et le cou!
Et les yeux! Et les yeux!
Et le bec! Et le bec!
Et la tête! Et la tête!
Alouette! Alouette!
A-a-a-ah
Alouette, gentille alouette,
Alouette, je te plumerai.

~  ~  ~

I will pluck your back.
   I will pluck your back.
And your back! And your back!
And your tail! And your tail!
And your legs! And your legs!
And your wings! And your wings!
And your neck! And your neck!
And your eyes! And your eyes!
And your beak! And your beak!
And your head! And your head!
Lark! Lark!
O-o-o-oh
Lark, nice lark,
Lark, I will pluck you.

CHAIN: head - beak - eyes - neck - wings - legs - tail - back