[Illustration: Janet casts the Flaming Sword into the Well]

MORE ENGLISH FAIRY TALES

Collected and Edited by

JOSEPH JACOBS

Editor of "Folk-Lore"

Illustrated by

JOHN D. BATTEN

G. P. Putnam's SonsNew York and London

 _YOU KNOW HOW TO GET INTO THIS BOOK_

 _Knock at the Knocker on the Door, Pull the Bell at the side. _

_Then, if you are_ very _quiet, you will hear a teeny tiny voice say through the grating_ "Take down the Key. " _This you will find at the back: you cannot mistake it, for it has J. J. In the wards. Put the Key in the Keyhole, which it fits exactly, unlock the door, and_

 _WALK IN_

Fourteenth Impression

To

MY SON SYDNEY

ÆTAT. XIII

Preface

This volume will come, I fancy, as a surprise both to my brotherfolk-lorists and to the public in general. It might naturally have beenthought that my former volume (_English Fairy Tales_) had almostexhausted the scanty remains of the traditional folk-tales of England. Yet I shall be much disappointed if the present collection is not foundto surpass the former in interest and vivacity, while for the most partit goes over hitherto untrodden ground, the majority of the tales inthis book have either never appeared before, or have never been broughtbetween the same boards. 

In putting these tales together, I have acted on the same principles asin the preceding volume, which has already, I am happy to say, established itself as a kind of English Grimm. I have taken Englishtales wherever I could find them, one from the United States, some fromthe Lowland Scotch, and a few have been adapted from ballads, while Ihave left a couple in their original metrical form. I have rewrittenmost of them, and in doing so have adopted the traditional English styleof folk-telling, with its "Wells" and "Lawkamercy" and archaic touches, which are known nowadays as vulgarisms. From former experience, I findthat each of these principles has met with some dissent from critics whohave written from the high and lofty standpoint of folk-lore, or fromthe lowlier vantage of "mere literature. " I take this occasion to softentheir ire, or perhaps give them further cause for reviling. 

My folk-lore friends look on with sadness while they view me layingprofane hands on the sacred text of my originals. I have actually attimes introduced or deleted whole incidents, have given another turn toa tale, or finished off one that was incomplete, while I have had noscruple in prosing a ballad or softening down over-abundant dialect. This is rank sacrilege in the eyes of the rigid orthodox in mattersfolk-lorical. My defence might be that I had a cause at heart as sacredas our science of folk-lore--the filling of our children's imaginationswith bright trains of images. But even on the lofty heights of folk-lorescience I am not entirely defenceless. Do my friendly critics believethat even Campbell's materials had not been modified by the variousnarrators before they reached the great J. F. ? Why may I not have thesame privilege as any other story-teller, especially when I know theways of story-telling as she is told in English, at least as well as aDevonshire or Lancashire peasant? And--conclusive argument--wilt thou, oh orthodox brother folk-lorist, still continue to use Grimm andAsbjörnsen? Well, they did the same as I. 

Then as to using tales in Lowland Scotch, whereat a Saturday Reviewer, whose identity and fatherland were not difficult to guess, was soshocked. Scots a dialect of English! Scots tales the same as English!Horror and Philistinism! was the Reviewer's outcry. Matter of fact is myreply, which will only confirm him, I fear, in his convictions. Yet Iappeal to him, why make a difference between tales told on differentsides of the Border? A tale told in Durham or Cumberland in a dialectwhich only Dr. Murray could distinguish from Lowland Scotch, would onall hands be allowed to be "English. " The same tale told a few milesfarther North, why should we refuse it the same qualification? A tale inHenderson is English: why not a tale in Chambers, the majority of whosetales are to be found also south of the Tweed?

The truth is, my folk-lore friends and my Saturday Reviewer differ withme on the important problem of the origin of folk-tales. They think thata tale probably originated where it was found. They therefore attributemore importance than I to the exact form in which it is found andrestrict it to the locality of birth. I consider the probability to liein an origin elsewhere: I think it more likely than not that any talefound in a place was rather brought there than born there. I havediscussed this matter elsewhere[1] with all the solemnity itsimportance deserves, and cannot attempt further to defend my positionhere. But even the reader innocent of folk-lore can see that, holdingthese views, I do not attribute much anthropological value to taleswhose origin is probably foreign, and am certainly not likely to make ahard-and-fast division between tales of the North Countrie and thosetold across the Border. 

As to how English folk-tales should be told authorities also differ. Iam inclined to follow the tradition of my old nurse, who was not bred atGirton and who scorned at times the rules of Lindley Murray and thediction of smart society. I have been recommended to adopt a diction nottoo remote from that of the Authorised Version. Well, quite apart frommemories of my old nurse, we have a certain number of tales actuallytaken down from the mouths of the people, and these are by no means inAuthorised form; they even trench on the "vulgar"--_i. E. _, the archaic. Now there is just a touch of snobbery in objecting to these archaismsand calling them "vulgar. " These tales have been told, if not from timeimmemorial, at least for several generations, in a special form whichincludes dialect and "vulgar" words. Why desert that form for one whichthe children cannot so easily follow with "thous" and "werts" and allthe artificialities of pseudo-Elizabethan? Children are not likely tosay "darter" for "daughter, " or to ejaculate "Lawkamercyme" because theycome across these forms in their folk-tales. They recognise the unusualforms while enjoying the fun of them. I have accordingly retained thearchaisms and the old-world formulæ which go so well with the folk-tale. 

In compiling the present collection I have drawn on the store of 140tales with which I originally started; some of the best of these Ireserved for this when making up the former one. That had necessarily tocontain the old favourites _Jack the Giant Killer, Dick Whittington_, and the rest, which are often not so interesting or so well told as theless familiar ones buried in periodicals or folk-lore collections. Butsince the publication of _English Fairy Tales_, I have been speciallyfortunate in obtaining access to tales entirely new and exceptionallywell told, which have been either published during the past three yearsor have been kindly placed at my disposal by folk-lore friends. Amongthese, the tales reported by Mrs. Balfour, with a thorough knowledge ofthe peasants' mind and mode of speech, are a veritable acquisition. Ionly regret that I have had to tone down so much of dialect in herversions. She has added to my indebtedness to her by sending me severaltales which are entirely new and inedited. Mrs. Gomme comes only secondin rank among my creditors for thanks which I can scarcely pay withoutbecoming bankrupt in gratitude. Other friends have been equally kind, especially Mr. Alfred Nutt, who has helped by adapting some of the bookversions, and by reading the proofs, while to the Councils of theAmerican and English Folk-Lore Societies I have again to repeat mythanks for permission to use materials which first appeared in theirpublications. Finally, I have had Mr. Batten with me once again--whatshould I or other English children do without him?

JOSEPH JACOBS. 

[Footnote 1: See "The Science of Folk Tales and the Problem ofDiffusion" in _Transactions of the International Folk-Lore Congress_, 1891. Mr. Lang has honoured me with a rejoinder, which I regard as apalinode, in his Preface to Miss Roalfe Cox's volume of variants of_Cinderella_ (Folk-Lore Society, 1892). ]

Contents

THE PIED PIPER OF FRANCHVILLE

HEREAFTERTHIS

THE GOLDEN BALL

MY OWN SELF

THE BLACK BULL OF NORROWAY

YALLERY BROWN

THREE FEATHERS

SIR GAMMER VANS

TOM HICKATHRIFT

THE HEDLEY KOW

GOBBORN SEER

LAWKAMERCYME

TATTERCOATS

THE WEE BANNOCK

JOHNNY GLOKE

COAT O' CLAY

THE THREE COWS

THE BLINDED GIANT

SCRAPEFOOT

THE PEDLAR OF SWAFFHAM

THE OLD WITCH

THE THREE WISHES

THE BURIED MOON

A SON OF ADAM

THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD

THE HOBYAHS

A POTTLE O' BRAINS

THE KING OF ENGLAND AND HIS THREE SONS

KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CANTERBURY

RUSHEN COATIE

THE KING 'O THE CATS

TAMLANE

THE STARS IN THE SKY

NEWS!

PUDDOCK, MOUSIE AND RATTON

THE LITTLE BULL-CALF

THE WEE, WEE MANNIE

HABETROT AND SCANTLIE MAB

OLD MOTHER WIGGLE-WAGGLE

CATSKIN

STUPID'S CRIES

THE LAMBTON WORM

THE WISE MEN OF GOTHAM

THE PRINCESS OF CANTERBURY

 * * * * *

NOTES AND REFERENCES

Full Page Illustrations

TAMLANE

THE BLACK BULL OF NORROWAY

TATTERCOATS

THE OLD WITCH

THE CASTLE OF MELVALES

THE LITTLE BULL-CALF

THE LAMBTON WORM

WARNING TO CHILDREN

MORE ENGLISH FAIRY TALES

The Pied Piper

Newtown, or Franchville, as 't was called of old, is a sleepy littletown, as you all may know, upon the Solent shore. Sleepy as it is now, it was once noisy enough, and what made the noise was--rats. The placewas so infested with them as to be scarce worth living in. There wasn'ta barn or a corn-rick, a store-room or a cupboard, but they ate theirway into it. Not a cheese but they gnawed it hollow, not a sugarpuncheon but they cleared out. Why the very mead and beer in the barrelswas not safe from them. They'd gnaw a hole in the top of the tun, anddown would go one master rat's tail, and when he brought it up roundwould crowd all the friends and cousins, and each would have a suck atthe tail. 

Had they stopped here it might have been borne. But the squeaking andshrieking, the hurrying and scurrying, so that you could neither hearyourself speak nor get a wink of good honest sleep the live-long night!Not to mention that, Mamma must needs sit up, and keep watch and wardover baby's cradle, or there'd have been a big ugly rat running acrossthe poor little fellow's face, and doing who knows what mischief. 

Why didn't the good people of the town have cats? Well they did, andthere was a fair stand-up fight, but in the end the rats were too many, and the pussies were regularly driven from the field. Poison, I hear yousay? Why, they poisoned so many that it fairly bred a plague. Ratcatchers! Why there wasn't a ratcatcher from John o' Groat's house tothe Land's End that hadn't tried his luck. But do what they might, catsor poison, terrier or traps, there seemed to be more rats than ever, andevery day a fresh rat was cocking his tail or pricking his whiskers. 

The Mayor and the town council were at their wits' end. As they weresitting one day in the town hall racking their poor brains, andbewailing their hard fate, who should run in but the town beadle. "Please your Honour, " says he, "here is a very queer fellow come totown. I don't rightly know what to make of him. " "Show him in, " said theMayor, and in he stepped. A queer fellow, truly. For there wasn't acolour of the rainbow but you might find it in some corner of his dress, and he was tall and thin, and had keen piercing eyes. 

"I'm called the Pied Piper, " he began. "And pray what might you bewilling to pay me, if I rid you of every single rat in Franchville?"

Well, much as they feared the rats, they feared parting with their moneymore, and fain would they have higgled and haggled. But the Piper wasnot a man to stand nonsense, and the upshot was that fifty pounds werepromised him (and it meant a lot of money in those old days) as soon asnot a rat was left to squeak or scurry in Franchville. 

Out of the hall stepped the Piper, and as he stepped he laid his pipe tohis lips and a shrill keen tune sounded through street and house. And aseach note pierced the air you might have seen a strange sight. For outof every hole the rats came tumbling. There were none too old and nonetoo young, none too big and none too little to crowd at the Piper'sheels and with eager feet and upturned noses to patter after him as hepaced the streets. Nor was the Piper unmindful of the little toddlingones, for every fifty yards he'd stop and give an extra flourish on hispipe just to give them time to keep up with the older and stronger ofthe band. 

Up Silver Street he went, and down Gold Street, and at the end of GoldStreet is the harbour and the broad Solent beyond. And as he pacedalong, slowly and gravely, the townsfolk flocked to door and window, andmany a blessing they called down upon his head. 

As for getting near him there were too many rats. And now that he was atthe water's edge he stepped into a boat, and not a rat, as he shoved offinto deep water, piping shrilly all the while, but followed him, plashing, paddling, and wagging their tails with delight. On and on heplayed and played until the tide went down, and each master rat sankdeeper and deeper in the slimy ooze of the harbour, until every mother'sson of them was dead and smothered. 

The tide rose again, and the Piper stepped on shore, but never a ratfollowed. You may fancy the townsfolk had been throwing up their capsand hurrahing and stopping up rat holes and setting the church bellsa-ringing. But when the Piper stepped ashore and not so much as a singlesqueak was to be heard, the Mayor and the Council, and the townsfolkgenerally, began to hum and to ha and to shake their heads. 

For the town money chest had been sadly emptied of late, and where wasthe fifty pounds to come from? Such an easy job, too! Just getting intoa boat and playing a pipe! Why the Mayor himself could have done that ifonly he had thought of it. 

So he hummed and ha'ad and at last, "Come, my good man, " said he, "yousee what poor folk we are; how can we manage to pay you fifty pounds?Will you not take twenty? When all is said and done, 't will be good payfor the trouble you've taken. "

"Fifty pounds was what I bargained for, " said the piper shortly; "and ifI were you I'd pay it quickly. For I can pipe many kinds of tunes, asfolk sometimes find to their cost. "

"Would you threaten us, you strolling vagabond?" shrieked the Mayor, andat the same time he winked to the Council; "the rats are all dead anddrowned, " muttered he; and so "You may do your worst, my good man, " andwith that he turned short upon his heel. 

"Very well, " said the Piper, and he smiled a quiet smile. With that helaid his pipe to his lips afresh, but now there came forth no shrillnotes, as it were, of scraping and gnawing, and squeaking and scurrying, but the tune was joyous and resonant, full of happy laughter and merryplay. And as he paced down the streets the elders mocked, but fromschool-room and play-room, from nursery and workshop, not a child butran out with eager glee and shout following gaily at the Piper's call. Dancing, laughing, joining hands and tripping feet, the bright throngmoved along up Gold Street and down Silver Street, and beyond SilverStreet lay the cool green forest full of old oaks and wide-spreadingbeeches. In and out among the oak-trees you might catch glimpses of thePiper's many-coloured coat. You might hear the laughter of the childrenbreak and fade and die away as deeper and deeper into the lone greenwood the stranger went and the children followed. 

All the while, the elders watched and waited. They mocked no longer now. And watch and wait as they might, never did they set their eyes againupon the Piper in his parti-coloured coat. Never were their heartsgladdened by the song and dance of the children issuing forth fromamongst the ancient oaks of the forest. 

Hereafterthis

Once upon a time there was a farmer called Jan, and he lived all aloneby himself in a little farmhouse. 

By-and-by he thought that he would like to have a wife to keep it allvitty for him. 

So he went a-courting a fine maid, and he said to her: "Will you marryme?"

"That I will, to be sure, " said she. 

So they went to church, and were wed. After the wedding was over, shegot up on his horse behind him, and he brought her home. And they livedas happy as the day was long. 

One day, Jan said to his wife, "Wife can you milk-y?"

"Oh, yes, Jan, I can milk-y. Mother used to milk-y, when I lived home. "

So he went to market and bought her ten red cows. All went well till oneday when she had driven them to the pond to drink, she thought they didnot drink fast enough. So she drove them right into the pond to makethem drink faster, and they were all drowned. 

When Jan came home, she up and told him what she had done, and he said, "Oh, well, there, never mind, my dear, better luck next time. "

So they went on for a bit, and then, one day, Jan said to his wife, "Wife can you serve pigs?"

"Oh, yes, Jan, I can serve pigs. Mother used to serve pigs when I livedhome. "

So Jan went to market and bought her some pigs. All went well till oneday, when she had put their food into the trough she thought they didnot eat fast enough, and she pushed their heads into the trough to makethem eat faster, and they were all choked. 

When Jan came home, she up and told him what she had done, and he said, "Oh, well, there, never mind, my dear, better luck next time. "

So they went on for a bit, and then, one day, Jan said to his wife, "Wife can you bake-y?"

"Oh, yes, Jan, I can bake-y. Mother used to bake-y when I lived home. "

So he bought everything for his wife so that she could bake bread. Allwent well for a bit, till one day, she thought she would bake whitebread for a treat for Jan. So she carried her meal to the top of a highhill, and let the wind blow on it, for she thought to herself that thewind would blow out all the bran. But the wind blew away meal and branand all--so there was an end of it. 

When Jan came home, she up and told him what she had done, and he said, "Oh, well, there, never mind, my dear, better luck next time. "

So they went on for a bit, and then, one day, Jan said to his wife, "Wife can you brew-y?"

"Oh, yes, Jan, I can brew-y. Mother used to brew-y when I lived home. "

So he bought everything proper for his wife to brew ale with. All wentwell for a bit, till one day when she had brewed her ale and put it inthe barrel, a big black dog came in and looked up in her face. She drovehim out of the house, but he stayed outside the door and still looked upin her face. And she got so angry that she pulled out the plug of thebarrel, threw it at the dog, and said, "What dost look at me for? I beJan's wife. " Then the dog ran down the road, and she ran after him tochase him right away. When she came back again, she found that the alehad all run out of the barrel, and so there was an end of it. 

When Jan came home, she up and told him what she had done, and he said, "Oh well, there, never mind, my dear, better luck next time. "

So they went on for a bit, and then, one day, she thought to herself, "'T is time to clean up my house. " When she was taking down her big bedshe found a bag of groats on the tester. So when Jan came home, she upand said to him, "Jan, what is that bag of groats on the tester for?"

"That is for Hereafterthis, my dear. "

Now, there was a robber outside the window, and he heard what Jan said. Next day, he waited till Jan had gone to market, and then he came andknocked at the door. "What do you please to want?" said Mally. 

"I am Hereafterthis, " said the robber, "I have come for the bag ofgroats. "

Now the robber was dressed like a fine gentleman, so she thought toherself it was very kind of so fine a man to come for the bag of groats, so she ran upstairs and fetched the bag of groats, and gave it to therobber and he went away with it. 

When Jan came home, she said to him, "Jan, Hereafterthis has been forthe bag of groats. "

"What do you mean, wife?" said Jan. 

So she up and told him, and he said, "Then I'm a ruined man, for thatmoney was to pay our rent with. The only thing we can do is to roam theworld over till we find the bag of groats. " Then Jan took the house-dooroff its hinges, "That's all we shall have to lie on, " he said. So Janput the door on his back, and they both set out to look forHereafterthis. Many a long day they went, and in the night Jan used toput the door on the branches of a tree, and they would sleep on it. Onenight they came to a big hill, and there was a high tree at the foot. SoJan put the door up in it, and they got up in the tree and went tosleep. By-and-by Jan's wife heard a noise, and she looked to see what itwas. It was an opening of a door in the side of the hill. Out came twogentlemen with a long table, and behind them fine ladies and gentlemen, each carrying a bag, and one of them was Hereafterthis with the bag ofgroats. They sat round the table, and began to drink and talk and countup all the money in the bags. So then Jan's wife woke him up, and askedwhat they should do. 

"Now's our time, " said Jan, and he pushed the door off the branches, and it fell right in the very middle of the table, and frightened therobbers so that they all ran away. Then Jan and his wife got down fromthe tree, took as many money-bags as they could carry on the door, andwent straight home. And Jan bought his wife more cows, and more pigs, and they lived happy ever after. 

The Golden Ball

There were two lasses, daughters of one mother, and as they came fromthe fair, they saw a right bonny young man stand at the house-doorbefore them. They never saw such a bonny man before. He had gold on hiscap, gold on his finger, gold on his neck, a red gold watch-chain--eh!but he had brass. He had a golden ball in each hand. He gave a ball toeach lass, and she was to keep it, and if she lost it, she was to behanged. One of the lasses, 't was the youngest, lost her ball. I'll tellthee how. She was by a park-paling, and she was tossing her ball, and itwent up, and up, and up, till it went fair over the paling; and when sheclimbed up to look, the ball ran along the green grass, and it wentright forward to the door of the house, and the ball went in and she sawit no more. 

So she was taken away to be hanged by the neck till she was dead becauseshe'd lost her ball. 

But she had a sweetheart, and he said he would go and get the ball. Sohe went to the park-gate, but 't was shut; so he climbed the hedge, andwhen he got to the top of the hedge, an old woman rose up out of thedyke before him, and said, if he wanted to get the ball, he must sleepthree nights in the house. He said he would. 

Then he went into the house, and looked for the ball, but could not findit. Night came on and he heard bogles move in the courtyard; so helooked out o' the window, and the yard was full of them. 

Presently he heard steps coming upstairs. He hid behind the door, andwas as still as a mouse. Then in came a big giant five times as tall ashe, and the giant looked round but did not see the lad, so he went tothe window and bowed to look out; and as he bowed on his elbows to seethe bogles in the yard, the lad stepped behind him, and with one blow ofhis sword he cut him in twain, so that the top part of him fell in theyard, and the bottom part stood looking out of the window. 

There was a great cry from the bogles when they saw half the giant cometumbling down to them, and they called out, "There comes half ourmaster, give us the other half. "

So the lad said, "It's no use of thee, thou pair of legs, standingalone at the window, as thou hast no eye to see with, so go join thybrother;" and he cast the lower part of the giant after the top part. Now when the bogles had gotten all the giant they were quiet. 

Next night the lad was at the house again, and now a second giant camein at the door, and as he came in the lad cut him in twain, but the legswalked on to the chimney and went up them. "Go, get thee after thylegs, " said the lad to the head, and he cast the head up the chimneytoo. 

The third night the lad got into bed, and he heard the bogles strivingunder the bed, and they had the ball there, and they were casting it toand fro. 

Now one of them has his leg thrust out from under the bed, so the ladbrings his sword down and cuts it off. Then another thrusts his arm outat other side of the bed, and the lad cuts that off. So at last he hadmaimed them all, and they all went crying and wailing off, and forgotthe ball, but he took it from under the bed, and went to seek histrue-love. 

Now the lass was taken to York to be hanged; she was brought out on thescaffold, and the hangman said, "Now, lass, thou must hang by the necktill thou be'st dead. " But she cried out:

 "Stop, stop, I think I see my mother coming! O mother, hast brought my golden ball And come to set me free?"

 "I've neither brought thy golden ball Nor come to set thee free, But I have come to see thee hung Upon this gallows-tree. "

Then the hangman said, "Now, lass, say thy prayers for thou must die. "But she said:

 "Stop, stop, I think I see my father coming! O father, hast brought my golden ball And come to set me free?"

 "I've neither brought thy golden ball Nor come to set thee free, But I have come to see thee hung Upon this gallows-tree. "

Then the hangman said, "Hast thee done thy prayers? Now, lass, put thyhead into the noose. "

But she answered, "Stop, stop, I think I see my brother coming!" Andagain she sang, and then she thought she saw her sister coming, then heruncle, then her aunt, then her cousin; but after this the hangman said, "I will stop no longer, thou 'rt making game of me. Thou must be hung atonce. "

But now she saw her sweetheart coming through the crowd, and he heldover his head in the air her own golden ball; so she said:

 "Stop, stop, I see my sweetheart coming! Sweetheart, hast brought my golden ball And come to set me free?"

 "Aye, I have brought thy golden ball And come to set thee free, I have not come to see thee hung Upon this gallows-tree. "

And he took her home, and they lived happy ever after. 

My Own Self

In a tiny house in the North Countrie, far away from any town orvillage, there lived not long ago, a poor widow all alone with herlittle son, a six-year-old boy. 

The house-door opened straight on to the hill-side and all round aboutwere moorlands and huge stones, and swampy hollows; never a house nor asign of life wherever you might look, for their nearest neighbours werethe "ferlies" in the glen below, and the "will-o'-the-wisps" in the longgrass along the pathside. 

And many a tale she could tell of the "good folk" calling to each otherin the oak-trees, and the twinkling lights hopping on to the very windowsill, on dark nights; but in spite of the loneliness, she lived on fromyear to year in the little house, perhaps because she was never asked topay any rent for it. 

But she did not care to sit up late, when the fire burnt low, and no oneknew what might be about; so, when they had had their supper she wouldmake up a good fire and go off to bed, so that if anything terrible_did_ happen, she could always hide her head under the bed-clothes. 

This, however, was far too early to please her little son; so when shecalled him to bed, he would go on playing beside the fire, as if he didnot hear her. 

He had always been bad to do with since the day he was born, and hismother did not often care to cross him; indeed, the more she tried tomake him obey her, the less heed he paid to anything she said, so itusually ended by his taking his own way. 

But one night, just at the fore-end of winter, the widow could not makeup her mind to go off to bed, and leave him playing by the fireside; forthe wind was tugging at the door, and rattling the window-panes, andwell she knew that on such a night, fairies and such like were bound tobe out and about, and bent on mischief. So she tried to coax the boyinto going at once to bed:

"The safest bed to bide in, such a night as this!" she said: but no, hewouldn't. 

Then she threatened to "give him the stick, " but it was no use. 

The more she begged and scolded, the more he shook his head; and when atlast she lost patience and cried that the fairies would surely come andfetch him away, he only laughed and said he wished they _would_, for hewould like one to play with. 

At that his mother burst into tears, and went off to bed in despair, certain that after such words something dreadful would happen; while hernaughty little son sat on his stool by the fire, not at all put out byher crying. 

But he had not long been sitting there alone, when he heard afluttering sound near him in the chimney and presently down by his sidedropped the tiniest wee girl you could think of; she was not a spanhigh, and had hair like spun silver, eyes as green as grass, and cheeksred as June roses. The little boy looked at her with surprise. 

"Oh!" said he; "what do they call ye?"

"My own self, " she said in a shrill but sweet little voice, and shelooked at him too. "And what do they call ye?"

"Just my own self too!" he answered cautiously; and with that they beganto play together. 

She certainly showed him some fine games. She made animals out of theashes that looked and moved like life; and trees with green leaveswaving over tiny houses, with men and women an inch high in them, who, when she breathed on them, fell to walking and talking quite properly. 

But the fire was getting low, and the light dim, and presently thelittle boy stirred the coals with a stick to make them blaze; when outjumped a red-hot cinder, and where should it fall, but on the fairychild's tiny foot. 

Thereupon she set up such a squeal, that the boy dropped the stick, andclapped his hands to his ears but it grew to so shrill a screech, thatit was like all the wind in the world whistling through one tinykeyhole. 

There was a sound in the chimney again, but this time the little boy didnot wait to see what it was, but bolted off to bed, where he hid underthe blankets and listened in fear and trembling to what went on. 

A voice came from the chimney speaking sharply:

"Who's there, and what's wrong?" it said. 

"It's my own self, " sobbed the fairy-child; "and my foot's burnt sore. O-o-h!"

"Who did it?" said the voice angrily; this time it sounded nearer, andthe boy, peeping from under the clothes, could see a white face lookingout from the chimney-opening. 

"Just my own self too!" said the fairy-child again. 

"Then if ye did it your own self, " cried the elf-mother shrilly, "what'sthe use o' making all this fash about it?"--and with that shestretched out a long thin arm, and caught the creature by its ear, and, shaking it roughly, pulled it after her, out of sight up the chimney. 

The little boy lay awake a long time, listening, in case thefairy-mother should come back after all; and next evening after supper, his mother was surprised to find that he was willing to go to bedwhenever she liked. 

"He's taking a turn for the better at last!" she said to herself; but hewas thinking just then that, when next a fairy came to play with him, hemight not get off quite so easily as he had done this time. 

Black Bull of Norroway

In Norroway, long time ago, there lived a certain lady, and she hadthree daughters: The oldest of them said to her mother: "Mother, bake mea bannock, and roast me a collop, for I'm going away to seek myfortune. " Her mother did so; and the daughter went away to an old witchwasherwife and told her purpose. The old wife bade her stay that day, and look out of her back-door, and see what she could see. She sawnought the first day. The second day she did the same, and saw nought. On the third day she looked again, and saw a coach-and-six coming alongthe road. She ran in and told the old wife what she saw. "Well, " quoththe old woman, "yon's for you. " So they took her into the coach andgalloped off. 

The second daughter next says to her mother: "Mother, bake me a bannock, and roast me a collop, for I'm going away to seek my fortune. " Hermother did so; and away she went to the old wife, as her sister haddone. On the third day she looked out of the back-door, and saw acoach-and-four coming along the road. "Well, " quoth the old woman, "yon's for you. " So they took her in, and off they set. 

The third daughter says to her mother: "Mother, bake me a bannock, androast me a collop, for I'm going away to seek my fortune. " Her motherdid so; and away she went to the old witch. She bade her look out of herback-door, and see what she could see She did so; and when she cameback, said she saw nought. The second day she did the same, and sawnought. The third day she looked again, and on coming back said to theold wife she saw nought but a great Black Bull coming crooning along theroad. "Well, " quoth the old witch, "yon's for you. " On hearing this shewas next to distracted with grief and terror; but she was lifted up andset on his back, and away they went. 

Aye they travelled, and on they travelled, till the lady grew faint withhunger. "Eat out of my right ear, " says the Black Bull, "and drink outof my left ear, and set by your leaving. " So she did as he said, and waswonderfully refreshed. And long they rode, and hard they rode, tillthey came in sight of a very big and bonny castle. "Yonder we must bethis night, " quoth the Bull; "for my elder brother lives yonder;" andpresently they were at the place. They lifted her off his back, and tookher in, and sent him away to a park for the night. In the morning, whenthey brought the Bull home, they took the lady into a fine shiningparlour, and gave her a beautiful apple, telling her not to break ittill she was in the greatest strait ever mortal was in the world, andthat would bring her out of it. Again she was lifted on the Bull's back, and after she had ridden far, and farther than I can tell, they came insight of a far bonnier castle, and far farther away than the last. Saysthe Bull to her: "Yonder we must be this night, for my second brotherlives yonder;" and they were at the place directly. They lifted her downand took her in, and sent the Bull to the field for the night. In themorning they took the lady into a fine and rich room, and gave her thefinest pear she had ever seen, bidding her not to break it till she wasin the greatest strait ever mortal could be in, and that would get herout of it. Again she was lifted and set on his back, and away they went. And long they rode, and hard they rode, till they came in sight of thefar biggest castle and far farthest off, they had yet seen. "We must beyonder to-night, " says the Bull, "for my young brother lives yonder;"and they were there directly. They lifted her down, took her in, andsent the Bull to the field for the night. In the morning they took herinto a room, the finest of all, and gave her a plum, telling her not tobreak it till she was in the greatest strait mortal could be in, andthat would get her out of it. Presently they brought home the Bull, setthe lady on his back, and away they went. 

And aye they rode, and on they rode, till they came to a dark and ugsomeglen, where they stopped, and the lady lighted down. Says the Bull toher: "Here you must stay till I go and fight the Old One. You must seatyourself on that stone, and move neither hand nor foot till I come back, else I'll never find you again. And if everything round about you turnsblue, I have beaten the Old One; but should all things turn red, he'llhave conquered me. " She set herself down on the stone, and by-and-by allround her turned blue. Overcome with joy, she lifted one of her feet, and crossed it over the other, so glad was she that her companion wasvictorious. The Bull returned and sought for her, but never could findher. 

Long she sat, and aye she wept, till she wearied. At last she rose andwent away, she didn't know where. On she wandered, till she came to agreat hill of glass, that she tried all she could to climb, but wasn'table. Round the bottom of the hill she went, sobbing and seeking apassage over, till at last she came to a smith's house; and the smithpromised, if she would serve him seven years, he would make her ironshoon, wherewith she could climb over the glassy hill. At seven years'end she got her iron shoon, clomb the glassy hill, and chanced to cometo the old washerwife's habitation. There she was told of a gallantyoung knight that had given in some clothes all over blood to wash, andwhoever washed them was to be his wife. The old wife had washed till shewas tired, and then she set her daughter at it, and both washed, andthey washed, and they washed, in hopes of getting the young knight; butfor all they could do they couldn't bring out a stain. At length theyset the stranger damsel to work; and whenever she began, the stains cameout pure and clean, and the old wife made the knight believe it was herdaughter had washed the clothes. So the knight and the eldest daughterwere to be married, and the stranger damsel was distracted at thethought of it, for she was deeply in love with him. So she bethought herof her apple and breaking it, found it filled with gold and preciousjewellery, the richest she had ever seen. "All these, " she said to theeldest daughter, "I will give you, on condition that you put off yourmarriage for one day and allow me to go into his room alone at night. "The lady consented; but meanwhile the old wife had prepared a sleepingdrink, and given it to the knight who drank it, and never wakened tillnext morning. The live-long night the damsel sobbed and sang:

 "Seven long years I served for thee, The glassy hill I clomb for thee, Thy bloody clothes I wrang for thee; And wilt thou not waken and turn to me?"

[Illustration: THE GLASSY HILL I CLOMB FOR THEE]

Next day she knew not what to do for grief. Then she broke the pear, andfound it filled with jewellery far richer than the contents of theapple. With these jewels she bargained for permission to be a secondnight in the young knight's chamber; but the old wife gave him anothersleeping drink, and again he slept till morning. All night she keptsighing and singing as before:

 "Seven long years I served for thee, The glassy hill I clomb for thee, Thy bloody clothes I wrang for thee; And wilt thou not waken and turn to me?"

Still he slept, and she nearly lost hope altogether, But that day, whenhe was out hunting, somebody asked him what noise and moaning was thatthey heard all last night in his bedchamber. He said: "I have heard nonoise. " But they assured him there was; and he resolved to keep wakingthat night to try what he could hear. That being the third night and thedamsel being between hope and despair, she broke her plum, and it heldfar the richest jewellery of the three. She bargained as before; and theold wife, as before, took in the sleeping drink to the young knight'schamber; but he told her he couldn't drink it that night withoutsweetening. And when she went away for some honey to sweeten it with, hepoured out the drink, and so made the old wife think he had drunk it. They all went to bed again, and the damsel began, as before, singing:

 "Seven long years I served for thee, The glassy hill I clomb for thee, Thy bloody clothes I wrang for thee; And wilt thou not waken and turn to me?"

He heard, and turned to her. And she told him all that had befallenher, and he told her all that had happened to him. And he caused the oldwasherwife and her daughter to be burnt. And they were married, and heand she are living happy to this day for aught I know. 

Yallery Brown

Once upon a time, and a very good time it was, though it wasn't in mytime, nor in your time, nor any one else's time, there was a young ladof eighteen or so named Tom Tiver working on the Hall Farm. One Sundayhe was walking across the west field, 't was a beautiful July night, warm and still and the air was full of little sounds as though the treesand grass were chattering to themselves. And all at once there came abit ahead of him the pitifullest greetings ever he heard, sob, sobbing, like a bairn spent with fear, and nigh heartbroken; breaking off into amoan and then rising again in a long whimpering wailing that made himfeel sick to hark to it. He began to look everywhere for the poorcreature. "It must be Sally Bratton's child, " he thought to himself;"she was always a flighty thing, and never looked after it. Like as not, she's flaunting about the lanes, and has clean forgot the babby. " Butthough he looked and looked, he could see nought. And presently thewhimpering got louder and stronger in the quietness, and he thought hecould make out words of some sort. He hearkened with all his ears, andthe sorry thing was saying words all mixed up with sobbing--

"Ooh! the stone, the great big stone! ooh! the stones on top!"

Naturally he wondered where the stone might be, and he looked again, andthere by the hedge bottom was a great flat stone, nigh buried in themools, and hid in the cotted grass and weeds. One of the stones wascalled the "Strangers' Table. " However, down he fell on his knee-bonesby that stone, and hearkened again. Clearer than ever, but tired andspent with greeting came the little sobbing voice--"Ooh! ooh! the stone, the stone on top. " He was gey, and mis-liking to meddle with the thing, but he couldn't stand the whimpering babby, and he tore like mad at thestone, till he felt it lifting from the mools, and all at once it camewith a sough out o' the damp earth and the tangled grass and growingthings. And there in the hole lay a tiddy thing on its back, blinking upat the moon and at him. 'T was no bigger than a year-old baby, but ithad long cotted hair and beard, twisted round and round its body so thatyou couldn't see its clothes; and the hair was all yaller and shiningand silky, like a bairn's; but the face of it was old and as if 't werehundreds of years since 't was young and smooth. Just a heap ofwrinkles, and two bright black eyne in the midst, set in a lot ofshining yaller hair; and the skin was the colour of the fresh turnedearth in the spring--brown as brown could be, and its bare hands andfeet were brown like the face of it. The greeting had stopped, but thetears were standing on its cheek, and the tiddy thing looked mazed likein the moonshine and the night air. 

The creature's eyne got used like to the moonlight, and presently helooked up in Tom's face as bold as ever was; "Tom, " says he, "thou 'rt agood lad!" as cool as thou can think, says he, "Tom, thou 'rt a goodlad!" and his voice was soft and high and piping like a little birdtwittering. 

Tom touched his hat, and began to think what he ought to say. "Houts!"says the thing again, "thou needn't be feared o' me; thou 'st done me abetter turn than thou know'st, my lad, and I'll do as much for thee. "Tom couldn't speak yet, but he thought; "Lord! for sure 't is a bogle!"

"No!" says he as quick as quick, "I am no bogle, but ye 'd best not askme what I be; anyways I be a good friend o' thine. " Tom's veryknee-bones struck, for certainly an ordinary body couldn't have knownwhat he'd been thinking to himself, but he looked so kind like, andspoke so fair, that he made bold to get out, a bit quavery like--

"Might I be axing to know your honour's name?"

"H'm, " says he, pulling his beard; "as for that"--and he thought abit--"ay so, " he went on at last, "Yallery Brown thou mayst call me, Yallery Brown; 't is my nature seest thou, and as for a name 't will doas any other. Yallery Brown, Tom, Yallery Brown's thy friend, my lad. "

"Thankee, master, " says Tom, quite meek like. 

"And now, " he says, "I'm in a hurry to-night, but tell me quick, what'llI do for thee? Wilt have a wife? I can give thee the finest lass in thetown. Wilt be rich? I'll give thee gold as much as thou can carry. Orwilt have help wi' thy work? Only say the word. "

Tom scratched his head. "Well, as for a wife, I have no hankering aftersuch; they're but bothersome bodies, and I have women folk at home as'll mend my clouts; and for gold that's as may be, but for work, there, I can't abide work, and if thou 'lt give me a helpin' hand in it I'llthank--"

"Stop, " says he, quick as lightning, "I'll help thee and welcome, but ifever thou sayest that to me--if ever thou thankest me, see'st thou, thou'lt never see me more. Mind that now; I want no thanks, I'll have nothanks;" and he stampt his tiddy foot on the earth and looked as wickedas a raging bull. 

"Mind that now, great lump that thou be, " he went on, calming down abit, "and if ever thou need'st help, or get'st into trouble, call on meand just say, 'Yallery Brown, come from the mools, I want thee!' andI'll be wi' thee at once; and now, " says he, picking a dandelion puff, "good-night to thee, " and he blowed it up, and it all came into Tom'seyne and ears. Soon as Tom could see again the tiddy creature was gone, and but for the stone on end and the hole at his feet, he'd have thoughthe'd been dreaming. 

Well, Tom went home and to bed; and by the morning he'd nigh forgot allabout it. But when he went to the work, there was none to do! all wasdone already, the horses seen to, the stables cleaned out, everything inits proper place, and he'd nothing to do but sit with his hands in hispockets. And so it went on day after day, all the work done by YalleryBrown, and better done, too, than he could have done it himself. And ifthe master gave him more work, he sat down, and the work did itself, thesingeing irons, or the broom, or what not, set to, and with ne'er a handput to it would get through in no time. For he never saw Yallery Brownin daylight; only in the darklins he saw him hopping about, like aWill-o-th'-wyke without his lanthorn. 

At first 't was mighty fine for Tom; he'd nought to do and good pay forit; but by-and-by things began to grow vicey-varsy. If the work was donefor Tom, 't was undone for the other lads; if his buckets were filled, theirs were upset; if his tools were sharpened, theirs were blunted andspoiled; if his horses were clean as daisies, theirs were splashed withmuck, and so on; day in and day out, 't was the same. And the lads sawYallery Brown flitting about o' nights, and they saw the things workingwithout hands o' days, and they saw that Tom's work was done for him, and theirs undone for them; and naturally they begun to look shy on him, and they wouldn't speak or come nigh him, and they carried tales to themaster and so things went from bad to worse. 

For Tom could do nothing himself; the brooms wouldn't stay in his hand, the plough ran away from him, the hoe kept out of his grip. He thoughtthat he'd do his own work after all, so that Yallery Brown would leavehim and his neighbours alone. But he couldn't--true as death hecouldn't. He could only sit by and look on, and have the cold shoulderturned on him, while the unnatural thing was meddling with the others, and working for him. 

At last, things got so bad that the master gave Tom the sack, and if hehadn't, all the rest of the lads would have sacked him, for they sworethey'd not stay on the same garth with Tom. Well, naturally Tom feltbad; 't was a very good place, and good pay too; and he was fair madwith Yallery Brown, as 'd got him into such a trouble. So Tom shook hisfist in the air and called out as loud as he could, "Yallery Brown, comefrom the mools; thou scamp, I want thee!"

You'll scarce believe it, but he'd hardly brought out the words but hefelt something tweaking his leg behind, while he jumped with the smartof it; and soon as he looked down, there was the tiddy thing, with hisshining hair, and wrinkled face, and wicked glinting black eyne. 

Tom was in a fine rage, and he would have liked to have kicked him, but't was no good, there wasn't enough of it to get his boot against; but hesaid, "Look here, master, I'll thank thee to leave me alone after this, dost hear? I want none of thy help, and I'll have nought more to do withthee--see now. "

The horrid thing broke into a screeching laugh, and pointed its brownfinger at Tom. "Ho, ho, Tom!" says he. "Thou 'st thanked me, my lad, andI told thee not, I told thee not!"

"I don't want thy help, I tell thee, " Tom yelled at him--"I only wantnever to see thee again, and to have nought more to do with 'ee--thoucan go. "

The thing only laughed and screeched and mocked, as long as Tom went onswearing, but so soon as his breath gave out--

"Tom, my lad, " he said with a grin, "I'll tell 'ee summat, Tom. True'strue I'll never help thee again, and call as thou wilt, thou 'lt neversee me after to-day; but I never said that I'd leave thee alone, Tom, and I never will, my lad! I was nice and safe under the stone, Tom, andcould do no harm; but thou let me out thyself, and thou can't put meback again! I would have been thy friend and worked for thee if thou hadbeen wise; but since thou bee'st no more than a born fool I'll give 'eeno more than a born fool's luck; and when all goes vicey-varsy, andeverything agee--thou 'lt mind that it's Yallery Brown's doing thoughm'appen thou doesn't see him. Mark my words, will 'ee?"

And he began to sing, dancing round Tom, like a bairn with his yellowhair, but looking older than ever with his grinning wrinkled bit of aface:

 "Work as thou will Thou 'lt never do well; Work as thou mayst Thou 'lt never gain grist; For harm and mischance and Yallery Brown Thou 'st let out thyself from under the stone. "

Tom could never rightly mind what he said next. 'T was all cussing andcalling down misfortune on him; but he was so mazed in fright that hecould only stand there shaking all over, and staring down at the horridthing; and if he'd gone on long, Tom would have tumbled down in a fit. But by-and-by, his yaller shining hair rose up in the air, and wraptitself round him till he looked for all the world like a great dandelionpuff; and it floated away on the wind over the wall and out o' sight, with a parting skirl of wicked voice and sneering laugh. 

And did it come true, sayst thou? My word! but it did, sure as death! Heworked here and he worked there, and turned his hand to this and tothat, but it always went agee, and 't was all Yallery Brown's doing. Andthe children died, and the crops rotted--the beasts never fatted, andnothing ever did well with him; and till he was dead and buried, andm'appen even afterwards, there was no end to Yallery Brown's spite athim; day in and day out he used to hear him saying--

 "Work as thou wilt Thou 'lt never do well; Work as thou mayst Thou 'lt never gain grist; For harm and mischance and Yallery Brown Thou 'st let out thyself from under the stone. "

Three Feathers

Once upon a time there was a girl who was married to a husband that shenever saw. And the way this was, was that he was only at home at night, and would never have any light in the house. The girl thought that wasfunny, and all her friends told her there must be something wrong withher husband, some great deformity that made him want not to be seen. 

Well, one night when he came home she suddenly lit a candle and saw him. He was handsome enough to make all the women of the world fall in lovewith him. But scarcely had she seen him when he began to change into abird, and then he said: "Now you have seen me, you shall see me no more, unless you are willing to serve seven years and a day for me, so that Imay become a man once more. " Then he told her to take three feathersfrom under his side, and whatever she wished through them would come topass. Then he left her at a great house to be laundry-maid for sevenyears and a day. 

And the girl used to take the feathers and say:

"By virtue of my three feathers may the copper be lit, and the clotheswashed, and mangled, and folded, and put away to the missus'ssatisfaction. "

And then she had no more care about it. The feathers did the rest, andthe lady set great store by her for a better laundress she had neverhad. Well, one day the butler, who had a notion to have the prettylaundry-maid for his wife, said to her, he should have spoken before buthe did not want to vex her. "Why should it when I am but afellow-servant?" the girl said. And then he felt free to go on, andexplain he had £70 laid by with the master, and how would she like himfor a husband. 

And the girl told him to fetch her the money, and he asked his masterfor it, and brought it to her. But as they were going upstairs, shecried, "O John, I must go back, sure I've left my shutters undone, andthey'll be slashing and banging all night. "

The butler said, "Never you trouble, I'll put them right. " and he ranback, while she took her feathers, and said: "By virtue of my threefeathers may the shutters slash and bang till morning, and John not beable to fasten them nor yet to get his fingers free from them. "

And so it was. Try as he might the butler could not leave hold, nor yetkeep the shutters from blowing open as he closed them. And he _was_angry, but could not help himself, and he did not care to tell of it andget the laugh on him, so no one knew. 

Then after a bit the coachman began to notice her, and she found he hadsome £40 with the master, and he said she might have it if she wouldtake him with it. 

So after the laundry-maid had his money in her apron as they wentmerrily along, she stopt, exclaiming: "My clothes are left outside, Imust run back and bring them in. " "Stop for me while I go; it is a coldfrost night, " said William, "you'd be catching your death. " So the girlwaited long enough to take her feathers out and say, "By virtue of mythree feathers may the clothes slash and blow about till morning, andmay William not be able to take his hand from them nor yet to gatherthem up. " And then she was away to bed and to sleep. 

The coachman did not want to be every one's jest, and he said nothing. So after a bit the footman comes to her and said he: "I have been withmy master for years and have saved up a good bit, and you have beenthree years here, and must have saved up as well. Let us put ittogether, and make us a home or else stay on at service as pleases you. "Well, she got him to bring the savings to her as the others had, andthen she pretended she was faint, and said to him: "James, I feel soqueer, run down cellar for me, that's a dear, and fetch me up a drop ofbrandy. " Now no sooner had he started than she said: "By virtue of mythree feathers may there be slashing and spilling, and James not be ableto pour the brandy straight nor yet to take his hand from it untilmorning. "

And so it was. Try as he might James could not get his glass filled, andthere was slashing and spilling, and right on it all, down came themaster to know what it meant!

So James told him he could not make it out, but he could not get thedrop of brandy the laundry-maid had asked for, and his hand would shakeand spill everything, and yet come away he could not. 

This got him in for a regular scrape, and the master when he got back tohis wife said: "What has come over the men, they were all right untilthat laundry-maid of yours came. Something is up now though. They haveall drawn out their pay, and yet they don't leave, and what can it beanyway?"

But his wife said she could not hear of the laundry-maid being blamed, for she was the best servant she had and worth all the rest puttogether. 

So it went on until one day as the girl stood in the hall door, thecoachman happened to say to the footman: "Do you know how that girlserved me, James?" And then William told about the clothes. The butlerput in, "That was nothing to what she served me, " and he told of theshutters clapping all night. 

Just then the master came through the hall, and the girl said: "Byvirtue of my three feathers may there be slashing and striving betweenmaster and men, and may all get splashed in the pond. "

And so it was, the men fell to disputing which had suffered the most byher, and when the master came up all would be heard at once and nonelistened to him, and it came to blows all round, and the first they knewthey had shoved one another into the pond. 

When the girl thought they had had enough she took the spell off, andthe master asked her what had begun the row, for he had not heard in theconfusion. 

And the girl said: "They were ready to fall on any one; they'd have beatme if you had not come by. "

So it blew over for that time, and through her feathers she made thebest laundress ever known. But to make a long story short, when theseven years and a day were up, the bird-husband, who had known herdoings all along, came after her, restored to his own shape again. Andhe told her mistress he had come to take her from being a servant, andthat she should have servants under her. But he did not tell of thefeathers. 

And then he bade her give the men back their savings. 

"That was a rare game you had with them, " said he, "but now you aregoing where there is plenty, leave them each their own. " So she did; andthey drove off to their castle, where they lived happy ever after. 

Sir Gammer Vans

Last Sunday morning at six o'clock in the evening as I was sailing overthe tops of the mountains in my little boat, I met two men on horsebackriding on one mare: So I asked them, "Could they tell me whether thelittle old woman was dead yet who was hanged last Saturday week fordrowning herself in a shower of feathers?" They said they could notpositively inform me, but if I went to Sir Gammer Vans he could tell meall about it. "But how am I to know the house?" said I. "Ho, 't is easyenough, " said they, "for 't is a brick house, built entirely of flints, standing alone by itself in the middle of sixty or seventy others justlike it. "

"Oh, nothing in the world is easier, " said I. 

"Nothing _can_ be easier, " said they: so I went on my way. 

Now this Sir G. Vans was a giant, and a bottle-maker. And as all giantswho _are_ bottle-makers usually pop out of a little thumb-bottle frombehind the door, so did Sir G. Vans. 

"How d'ye do?" says he. 

"Very well, I thank you, " says I. 

"Have some breakfast with me?"

"With all my heart, " says I. 

So he gave me a slice of beer, and a cup of cold veal; and there was alittle dog under the table that picked up all the crumbs. 

"Hang him, " says I. 

"No, don't hang him, " says he; "for he killed a hare yesterday. And ifyou don't believe me, I'll show you the hare alive in a basket. "

So he took me into his garden to show me the curiosities. In one cornerthere was a fox hatching eagle's eggs; in another there was an ironapple tree, entirely covered with pears and lead; in the third there wasthe hare which the dog killed yesterday alive in the basket; and in thefourth there were twenty-four _hipper switches_ threshing tobacco, andat the sight of me they threshed so hard that they drove the plugthrough the wall, and through a little dog that was passing by on theother side. I, hearing the dog howl, jumped over the wall; and turned itas neatly inside out as possible, when it ran away as if it had not anhour to live. Then he took me into the park to show me his deer: and Iremembered that I had a warrant in my pocket to shoot venison for hismajesty's dinner. So I set fire to my bow, poised my arrow, and shotamongst them. I broke seventeen ribs on one side, and twenty-one and ahalf on the other; but my arrow passed clean through without evertouching it, and the worst was I lost my arrow: however, I found itagain in the hollow of a tree. I felt it; it felt clammy. I smelt it; itsmelt honey. "Oh, ho, " said I, "here's a bee's nest, " when out sprang acovey of partridges. I shot at them; some say I killed eighteen; but Iam sure I killed thirty-six, besides a dead salmon which was flying overthe bridge, of which I made the best apple-pie I ever tasted. 

Tom Hickathrift

Before the days of William the Conqueror there dwelt a man in the marshof the Isle of Ely whose name was Thomas Hickathrift, a poor daylabourer, but so stout that he could do two days' work in one. His oneson he called by his own name, Thomas Hickathrift, and he put him togood learning, but the lad was none of the wisest, and indeed seemed tobe somewhat soft, so he got no good at all from his teaching. 

Tom's father died, and his mother being tender of him, kept him as wellas she could. The slothful fellow would do nothing but sit in thechimney-corner, and eat as much at a time as would serve four or fiveordinary men. And so much did he grow that when but ten years old he wasalready eight feet high, and his hand like a shoulder of mutton. 

One day his mother went to a rich farmer's house to beg a bottle ofstraw for herself and Tom. "Take what you will, " said the farmer, anhonest charitable man. So when she got home she told Tom to fetch thestraw, but he wouldn't and, beg as she might, he wouldn't till sheborrowed him a cart rope. So off he went, and when he came to thefarmer's, master and men were all a-trashing in the barn. 

"I'm come for the straw, " said Tom. 

"Take as much as thou canst carry, " said the farmer. 

So Tom laid down his rope and began to make his bottle. 

"Your rope is too short, " said the farmer by way of a joke; but the jokewas on Tom's side, for when he had made up his load there was sometwenty hundred-weight of straw, and though they called him a fool forthinking he could carry the tithe of it, he flung it over his shoulderas if it had been a hundred-weight, to the great admiration of masterand men. 

Tom's strength being thus made known there was no longer any basking bythe fire for him; every one would be hiring him to work, and tellinghim 't was a shame to live such a lazy life. So Tom seeing them wait onhim as they did, went to work first with one, then with another. And oneday a woodman desired his help to bring home a tree. Off went Tom andfour men besides, and when they came to the tree they began to draw itinto the cart with pulleys. At last Tom, seeing them unable to lift it, "Stand away, you fools, " said he, and taking the tree, set it on one endand laid it in the cart. "Now, " said he, "see what a man can do. ""Marry, 't is true, " said they, and the woodman asked what reward he'dtake. "Oh, a stick for my mother's fire, " said Tom; and espying a treebigger than was in the cart, he laid it on his shoulders and went homewith it as fast as the cart and six horses could draw it. 

Tom now saw that he had more strength than twenty men, and began to bevery merry, taking delight in company, in going to fairs and meetings, in seeing sports and pastimes. And at cudgels, wrestling, or throwingthe hammer, not a man could stand against him, so that at last nonedurst go into the ring to wrestle with him, and his fame was spread moreand more in the country. 

Far and near he would go to any meetings, as football play or the like. And one day in a part of the country where he was a stranger, and noneknew him, he stopped to watch the company at football play; rare sportit was; but Tom spoiled it all, for meeting the ball he took it such akick that away it flew none could tell whither. They were angry with Tomas you may fancy, but got nothing by that as Tom took hold of a bigspar, and laid about with a will, so that though the whole country-sidewas up in arms against him, he cleared his way wherever he came. 

It was late in the evening ere he could turn homeward, and on the roadthere met him four lusty rogues that had been robbing passengers allday. They thought they had a good prize in Tom, who was all alone, andmade cocksure of his money. 

"Stand and deliver!" said they. 

"What should I deliver?" said Tom. 

"Your money, sirrah, " said they. 

"You shall give me better words for it first, " said Tom. 

"Come, come, no more prating; money we want, and money we'll have beforeyou stir. "

"Is it so?" said Tom, "nay, then come and take it. "

The long and the short of it was that Tom killed two of the rogues andgrieviously wounded the other two, and took all their money, which wasas much as two hundred pounds. And when he came home he made his oldmother laugh with the story of how he served the football players andthe four thieves. 

But you shall see that Tom sometimes met his match. In wandering one dayin the forest he met a lusty tinker that had a good staff on hisshoulder, and a great dog to carry his bag and tools. 

"Whence come you and whither are you going?" said Tom, "this is nohighway. "

"What's that to you?" said the tinker; "fools must needs be meddling. "

"I'll make you know, " said Tom, "before you and I part, what it is tome. "

"Well, " said the tinker, "I'm ready for a bout with any man, and I hearthere is one Tom Hickathrift in the country of whom great things aretold. I'd fain see him to have a turn with him. "

"Ay, " said Tom, "methinks he might be master with you. Anyhow, I am theman; what have you to say to me?"

"Why, verily, I'm glad we are so happily met. "

"Sure, you do but jest, " said Tom. 

"Marry, I'm in earnest, " said the tinker. "A match?" "'T is done. " "Letme first get a twig, " said Tom. "Ay, " said the tinker, "hang him thatwould fight a man unarmed. "

So Tom took a gate-rail for his staff, and at it they fell, the tinkerat Tom, and Tom at the tinker, like two giants they laid on at eachother. The tinker had a leathern coat on, and at every blow Tom gave thetinker his coat roared again, yet the tinker did not give way one inch. At last Tom gave him a blow on the side of his head which felled him. 

"Now tinker where are you?" said Tom. 

But the tinker being a nimble fellow, leapt up again, gave Tom a blowthat made him reel again, and followed his blow with one on the otherside that made Tom's neck crack again. So Tom flung down his weapon andyielded the tinker the better on it, took him home to his house, wherethey nursed their bruises and from that day forth there was nostauncher pair of friends than they two. 

Tom's fame was thus spread abroad till at length a brewer at Lynn, wanting a good lusty man to carry his beer to Wisbeach went to hire Tom, and promised him a new suit of clothes from top to toe, and that heshould eat and drink of the best, so Tom yielded to be his man and hismaster told him what way he should go, for you must understand there wasa monstrous giant who kept part of the marsh-land, so that none durst gothat way. 

So Tom went every day to Wisbeach a good twenty miles by the road. 'Twas a wearisome journey thought Tom and he soon found that the way keptby the giant was nearer by half. Now Tom had got more strength thanever, being well kept as he was and drinking so much strong ale as hedid. One day, then, as he was going to Wisbeach, without saying anythingto his master or any of his fellow servants, he resolved to take thenearest road or to lose his life; as they say, to win horse or losesaddle. Thus resolved, he took the near road, flinging open the gatesfor his cart and horses to go through. At last the giant spied him, andcame up speedily, intending to take his beer for a prize. 

He met Tom like a lion as though he would have swallowed him. "Who gaveyou authority to come this way?" roared he. "I'll make you an examplefor all rogues under the sun. See how many heads hang on yonder tree. Yours shall hang higher than all the rest for a warning. "

But Tom made him answer, "A fig in your teeth you shall not find me likeone of them, traitorly rogue that you are. "

The giant took these words in high disdain, and ran into his cave tofetch his great club, intending to dash out Tom's brains at the firstblow. 

Tom knew not what to do for a weapon; his whip would be but little goodagainst a monstrous beast twelve foot in length and six foot about thewaist. But whilst the giant went for his club, bethinking him of a verygood weapon, he made no more ado, but took his cart, turned it upsidedown, and took axle-tree and wheel for shield and buckler. And very goodweapons they were found!

Out came the giant and began to stare at Tom. "You are like to do greatservice with those weapons, " roared he. "I have here a twig that willbeat you and your wheel to the ground. " Now this twig was as thick assome mileposts are, but Tom was not daunted for all that, though thegiant made at him with such force that the wheel cracked again. But Tomgave as good as he got, taking the giant such a weighty blow on the sideof the head that he reeled again. "What, " said Tom, "are you drunk withmy strong beer already?"

So at it they went, Tom laying such huge blows at the giant, down whoseface sweat and blood ran together, so that, being fat and foggy andtired with the long fighting, he asked Tom would he let him drink alittle? "Nay, nay, " said Tom, "my mother did not teach me such wit;who'd be a fool then?" And seeing the giant beginning to weary and failin his blows, Tom thought best to make hay whilst the sun shone, and, laying on as fast as though he had been mad, he brought the giant to theground. In vain were the giant's roars and prayers and promises to yieldhimself and be Tom's servant. Tom laid at him till he was dead, andthen, cutting off his head, he went into the cave, and found a greatstore of silver and gold, which made his heart to leap. So he loaded hiscart, and after delivering his beer at Wisbeach, he came home and toldhis master what had befallen him. And on the morrow he and his masterand more of the towns-folk of Lynn set out for the giant's cave. Tomshowed them the head, and what silver and gold there was in the cave, and not a man but leapt for joy, for the giant was a great enemy to allthe country. 

The news was spread all up and down the country-side how Tom Hickathrifthad killed the giant. And well was he that could run to see the cave;all the folk made bonfires for joy, and if Tom was respected before, hewas much more so now. With common consent he took possession of the caveand every one said, had it been twice as much, he would have deservedit. So Tom pulled down the cave, and built himself a brave house. Theground that the giant kept by force for himself, Tom gave part to thepoor for their common land, and part he turned into good wheat-land tokeep himself and his old mother, Jane Hickathrift. And now he was becomethe chiefest man in the country-side; 't was no longer plain Tom, butMr. Hickathrift, and he was held in due respect I promise you. He keptmen and maids and lived most bravely; made him a park to keep deer, andtime passed with him happily in his great house till the end of hisdays. 

The Hedley Kow

There was once an old woman, who earned a poor living by going errandsand such like, for the farmers' wives round about the village where shelived. It wasn't much she earned by it; but with a plate of meat at onehouse, 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 cameupon a big black pot lying at the side of the road. 

"Now _that_, " said she, stopping to look at it, "would be just the verything for me if I had anything to put into it! But who can have left ithere?" and she looked round about, as if the person it belonged to mustbe 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 fineto 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 lookinside. 

"Mercy me!" she cried, and jumped back to the other side of the road;"_if it is fit 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 toherself about every two minutes, "Well, I _do_ be feeling rich andgrand!" But presently she began to think how she could best take it homewith her; and she couldn't see any other way than by fastening one endof 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 notsee what I'm bringing home with me, and so I'll have all the night tomyself 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 thepriest to keep for me, and get a piece as I'm wanting; or maybe I'lljust 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 feelso grand, I don't know myself rightly!"

And by this time, being already rather tired with dragging such a heavyweight after her, she stopped to rest for a minute, turning to make surethat her treasure was safe. 

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

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

And she set off homewards again, cheerfully planning all the grandthings 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 ortwo. 

Again she turned to look at her treasure, and as soon as she set eyes onit she cried out in astonishment. "Oh, my!" said she; "now it's a lumpo' iron! Well, that beats all; and it's just real convenient! I can sellit 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 keptme 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 whatye mightn't use it for, an' it'll sell--ay, for a real lot. Rich? I'llbe just _rolling!_"

And on she trotted again chuckling to herself on her good luck, tillpresently she glanced over her shoulder, "just to make sure it was therestill, " as she said to herself. 

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

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

When she had unlatched it, she turned to unfasten her shawl from thestone, which this time seemed to lie unchanged and peaceably on the pathbeside her, There was still plenty of light, and she could see the stonequite plainly as she bent her stiff back over it, to untie the shawlend; when, all of a sudden, it seemed to give a jump and a squeal, andgrew in a moment as big as a great horse; then it threw down four lankylegs, and shook out two long ears, flourished a tail, and went offkicking its feet into the 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! Fancyme 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 overher good luck. 

Gobborn Seer

Once there was a man Gobborn Seer, and he had a son called Jack. 

One day he sent him out to sell a sheep skin, and Gobborn said, "Youmust bring me back the skin and the value of it as well. "

So Jack started, but he could not find any who would leave him the skinand give him its price too. So he came home discouraged. 

But Gobborn Seer said, "Never mind, you must take another turn at itto-morrow. "

So he tried again, and nobody wished to buy the skin on those terms. 

When he came home his father said, "You must go and try your luckto-morrow, " and the third day it seemed as if it would be the same thingover again. And he had half a mind not to go back at all, his fatherwould be so vexed. As he came to a bridge, like the Creek Road oneyonder, he leaned on the parapet thinking of his trouble, and thatperhaps it would be foolish to run away from home, but he could not tellwhich to do; when he saw a girl washing her clothes on the bank below. She looked up and said:

"If it may be no offence asking, what is it you feel so badly about?"

"My father has given me this skin, and I am to fetch it back and theprice of it beside. "

"Is that all? Give it here, and it's easy done. "

So the girl washed the skin in the stream, took the wool from it, andpaid him the value of it, and gave him the skin to carry back. 

His father was well pleased, and said to Jack, "That was a witty woman;she would make you a good wife. Do you think you could tell her again?"

Jack thought he could, so his father told him to go by-and-by to thebridge, and see if she was there, and if so bid her come home to taketea with them. 

And sure enough Jack spied her and told her how his old father had awish to meet her, and would she be pleased to drink tea with them. 

The girl thanked him kindly, and said she could come the next day; shewas too busy at the moment. 

"All the better, " said Jack, "I'll have time to make ready. "

So when she came Gobborn Seer could see she was a witty woman, and heasked her if she would marry his Jack. She said "Yes, " and they weremarried. 

Not long after, Jack's father told him he must come with him and buildthe finest castle that ever was seen, for a king who wished to outdo allothers by his wonderful castle. 

And as they went to lay the foundation-stone, Gobborn Seer said to Jack, "Can't you shorten the way for me?"

But Jack looked ahead and there was a long road before them, and hesaid, "I don't see, father, how I could break a bit off. "

"You're no good to me, then, and had best be off home. "

So poor Jack turned back, and when he came in his wife said, "Why, how'sthis you've come alone?" and he told her what his father had said andhis answer. 

"You stupid, " said his witty wife, "if you had told a tale you wouldhave shortened the road! Now listen till I tell you a story, and thencatch up with Gobborn Seer and begin it at once. He will like hearingit, and by the time you are done you will have reached thefoundation-stone. "

So Jack sweated and overtook his father. Gobborn Seer said never a word, but Jack began his story, and the road was shortened as his wife hadsaid. 

When they came to the end of their journey, they started building ofthis castle which was to outshine all others. Now the wife had advisedthem to be intimate with the servants, and so they did as she said, andit was "Good-morning" and "Good-day to you" as they passed in and out. 

Now, at the end of a twelvemonth, Gobborn, the wise man, had built sucha castle thousands were gathered to admire it. 

And the king said: "The castle is done. I shall return to-morrow and payyou all. "

"I have just a ceiling to finish in an upper lobby, " said Gobborn, "andthen it wants nothing. "

But after the king was gone off, the housekeeper sent for Gobborn andJack, and told them that she had watched for a chance to warn them, forthe king was so afraid they should carry their art away and build someother king as fine a castle, he meant to take their lives on the morrow. Gobborn told Jack to keep a good heart, and they would come off allright. 

When the king had come back Gobborn told him he had been unable tocomplete the job for lack of a tool left at home, and he should like tosend Jack after it. 

"No, no, " said the king, "cannot one of the men do the errand?"

"No, they could not make themselves understood, " said the Seer, "butJack could do the errand. "

"You and your son are to stop here. But how will it do if I send my ownson?"

"That will do. "

So Gobborn sent by him a message to Jack's wife. "Give him _Crooked andStraight_!"

Now there was a little hole in the wall rather high up, and Jack's wifetried to reach up into a chest there after "crooked and straight, " butat last she asked the king's son to help her, because his arms werelongest. 

But when he was leaning over the chest she caught him by the two heels, and threw him into the chest, and fastened it down. So there he was, both "crooked and straight!"

Then he begged for pen and ink, which she brought him, but he was notallowed out, and holes were bored that he might breathe. 

When his letter came, telling the king, his father, he was to be letfree when Gobborn and Jack were safe home, the king saw he must settlefor the building, and let them come away. 

As they left Gobborn told him: Now that Jack was done with this work, heshould soon build a castle for his witty wife far superior to theking's, which he did, and they lived there happily ever after. 

Lawkamercyme

 There was an old woman, as I've heard tell. She went to the market her eggs for to sell; She went to the market, all on a market-day, And she fell asleep on the king's highway. 

 There came by a pedlar, whose name was Stout, He cut her petticoats round about; He cut her petticoats up to the knees, Which made the old woman to shiver and freeze. 

 When this old woman first did wake, She began to shiver, and she began to shake; She began to wonder, and she began to cry-- "Lawkamercyme, this is none of I!"

 "But if it be I, as I do hope it be, I've a little dog at home, and he'll know me; If it be I, he'll wag his little tail, And if it be not I, he'll loudly bark and wail. "

 Home went the little woman, all in the dark; Up got the little dog, and he began to bark; He began to bark, so she began to cry-- "Lawkamercyme, this is none of I!"

Tattercoats

In a great Palace by the sea there once dwelt a very rich old lord, whohad neither wife nor children living, only one little granddaughter, whose face he had never seen in all her life. He hated her bitterly, because at her birth his favourite daughter died; and when the old nursebrought him the baby, he swore, that it might live or die as it liked, but he would never look on its face as long as it lived. 

So he turned his back, and sat by his window looking out over the sea, and weeping great tears for his lost daughter, till his white hair andbeard grew down over his shoulders and twined round his chair and creptinto the chinks of the floor, and his tears, dropping on to thewindow-ledge, wore a channel through the stone, and ran away in a littleriver to the great sea. And, meanwhile, his granddaughter grew up withno one to care for her, or clothe her; only the old nurse, when no onewas by, would sometimes give her a dish of scraps from the kitchen, or atorn petticoat from the rag-bag; while the other servants of the Palacewould drive her from the house with blows and mocking words, callingher "Tattercoats, " and pointing at her bare feet and shoulders, till sheran away crying, to hide among the bushes. 

And so she grew up, with little to eat or wear, spending her days in thefields and lanes, with only the gooseherd for a companion, who wouldplay to her so merrily on his little pipe, when she was hungry, or cold, or tired, that she forgot all her troubles, and fell to dancing, withhis flock of noisy geese for partners. 

But, one day, people told each other that the King was travellingthrough the land, and in the town near by was to give a great ball, toall the lords and ladies of the country, when the Prince, his only son, was to choose a wife. 

One of the royal invitations was brought to the Palace by the sea, andthe servants carried it up to the old lord who still sat by his window, wrapped in his long white hair and weeping into the little river thatwas fed by his tears. 

But when he heard the King's command, he dried his eyes and bade thembring shears to cut him loose, for his hair had bound him a fastprisoner and he could not move. And then he sent them for rich clothes, and jewels, which he put on; and he ordered them to saddle the whitehorse, with gold and silk, that he might ride to meet the King. 

Meanwhile Tattercoats had heard of the great doings in the town, and shesat by the kitchen-door weeping because she could not go to see them. And when the old nurse heard her crying she went to the Lord of thePalace, and begged him to take his granddaughter with him to the King'sball. 

But he only frowned and told her to be silent, while the servantslaughed and said: "Tattercoats is happy in her rags, playing with thegooseherd, let her be--it is all she is fit for. "

A second, and then a third time, the old nurse begged him to let thegirl go with him, but she was answered only by black looks and fiercewords, till she was driven from the room by the jeering servants, withblows and mocking words. 

Weeping over her ill-success, the old nurse went to look forTattercoats; but the girl had been turned from the door by the cook, andhad run away to tell her friend the gooseherd, how unhappy she wasbecause she could not go to the King's ball. 

But when the gooseherd had listened to her story, he bade her cheer up, and proposed that they should go together into the town to see the King, and all the fine things; and when she looked sorrowfully down at herrags and bare feet, he played a note or two upon his pipe, so gay andmerry, that she forgot all about her tears and her troubles, and beforeshe well knew, the herdboy had taken her by the hand, and she, and he, and the geese before them, were dancing down the road towards the town. 

Before they had gone very far, a handsome young man, splendidly dressed, rode up and stopped to ask the way to the castle where the King wasstaying; and when he found that they too were going thither, he got offhis horse and walked beside them along the road. 

The herdboy pulled out his pipe and played a low sweet tune, and thestranger looked again and again at Tattercoats' lovely face till he felldeeply in love with her, and begged her to marry him. 

But she only laughed, and shook her golden head. 

"You would be finely put to shame if you had a goosegirl for your wife!"said she; "go and ask one of the great ladies you will see to-night atthe King's ball, and do not flout poor Tattercoats. "

But the more she refused him the sweeter the pipe played, and the deeperthe young man fell in love; till at last he begged her, as a proof ofhis sincerity, to come that night at twelve to the King's ball, just asshe was, with the herdboy and his geese, and in her torn petticoat andbare feet, and he would dance with her before the King and the lords andladies, and present her to them all, as his dear and honoured bride. 

So when night came, and the hall in the castle was full of light andmusic, and the lords and ladies were dancing before the King, just asthe clock struck twelve, Tattercoats and the herdboy, followed by hisflock of noisy geese, entered at the great doors, and walked straight upthe ball-room, while on either side the ladies whispered, the lordslaughed, and the King seated at the far end stared in amazement. 

But as they came in front of the throne, Tattercoats' lover rose frombeside the King, and came to meet her. Taking her by the hand, he kissedher thrice before them all, and turned to the King. 

[Illustration: TATTERCOATS. ]

"Father!" he said, for it was the Prince himself, "I have made mychoice, and here is my bride, the loveliest girl in all the land, andthe sweetest as well!"

Before he had finished speaking, the herdboy put his pipe to his lipsand played a few low notes that sounded like a bird singing far off inthe woods; and as he played, Tattercoats' rags were changed to shiningrobes sewn with glittering jewels, a golden crown lay upon her goldenhair, and the flock of geese behind her, became a crowd of dainty pages, bearing her long train. 

And as the King rose to greet her as his daughter, the trumpets soundedloudly in honour of the new Princess, and the people outside in thestreet said to each other:

"Ah! now the Prince has chosen for his wife the loveliest girl in allthe land!"

But the gooseherd was never seen again, and no one knew what became ofhim; while the old lord went home once more to his Palace by the sea, for he could not stay at Court, when he had sworn never to look on hisgranddaughter's face. 

So there he still sits by his window, if you could only see him, as yousome day may, weeping more bitterly than ever, as he looks out over thesea. 

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 hadtwo cows, five hens, and a cock, a cat and two kittens. The old manlooked after the cows, and the old wife span on the distaff. The kittensoft gripped at the old wife's spindle, as it tussled over thehearthstone. "Sho, sho, " she would say, "go away;" and so it tussledabout. 

One day, after breakfast, she thought she would have a bannock. So shebaked two oatmeal bannocks, and set them on to the fire to harden. Aftera while, the old man came in, and sat down beside the fire, and takesone of the bannocks, and snaps it through the middle. When the other onesees 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 thewee bannock ran away and out of sight, and ran till it came to a prettylarge thatched house, and it ran boldly up inside to the fireside; andthere were three tailors sitting on a big bench. When they saw the weebannock come in, they jumped up, and got behind the goodwife, that wascarding tow by the fire. "Hout, " quoth she, "be no afeard; it's but awee bannock. Grip it, and I'll give ye a sup of milk with it. " Up shegets 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 itwouldn't do. The bannock ran away, and ran till it came to a wee houseat the roadside; and in it runs and there was a weaver sitting at theloom, 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 to-day. Gripit, 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 theneat-house, to the fireside; and there was the goodwife churning. 

"Come away, wee bannock, " quoth she; "I'll have cream and bread to-day. "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 shegot it set right again, the wee bannock was off and down the brae to themill; and in it ran. 

The miller was sifting meal in the trough; but, looking up: "Ay, " quothhe, "it's a sign of plenty when ye're running about, and nobody to lookafter ye. But I like a bannock and cheese. Come your way hither, andI'll give ye a night's quarters. " But the bannock wouldn't trust itselfwith the miller and his cheese. So it turned and ran its way out; butthe 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 likea glass of good ale and a well-toasted bannock. Come your way in byhere. " But the bannock was frightened when it heard about the ale, andturned and was off as hard as it could, and the smith after it, and castthe 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 ofit. Inside it runs to the fireside. The goodman was cloving lint, andthe goodwife heckling. "O Janet, " quoth he, "there's a wee bannock; I'llhave the half of it. "

"Well, John, I'll have the other half. Hit it over the back with theclove. " 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 tothe fireside. The goodwife was stirring the soup, and the goodmanplaiting sprit-binnings for the cows. "Ho, Jock, " quoth the goodwife, "here come. You're always crying about a wee bannock. Here's one. Comein, 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 thesprits. The goodman cast a binning, and the goodwife the spurtle. But itwas too clever for Jock and her both. It was off and out of sight in acrack, 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 totheir 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 itwith their spoons, and the goodman shied his hat. But it rolled away andran, and ran, till it came to another house; and when it went in thefolk were just going to their beds. The goodman was taking off hisbreeches, 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 hadnearly smothered it. But it wriggled out and ran, and the goodman afterit without his breeches; and there was a clean chase over the craftpark, and in among the whins; and the goodman lost it, and had to comeaway, trotting home half naked. But now it was grown dark, and the weebannock couldn't see; but it went into the side of a big whin bush, andinto 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 thatwas the end of the wee bannock. 

Johnny Gloke

Johnny Gloke was a tailor by trade, but like a man of spirit he grewtired of his tailoring, and wished to follow some other path that wouldlead to honour and fame. But he did not know what to do at first to gainfame and fortune, so for a time he was fonder of basking idly in the sunthan in plying the needle and scissors. One warm day as he was enjoyinghis ease, he was annoyed by the flies alighting on his bare ankles. Hebrought his hand down on them with force and killed a goodly number ofthem. On counting the victims of his valour, he was overjoyed at hissuccess; his heart rose to the doing of great deeds, and he gave vent tohis feelings in the saying:--

 "Well done! Johnny Gloke, Kilt fifty flies at one stroke. "

His resolution was now taken to cut out his path to fortune and honour. So he took down from its resting-place a rusty old sword that hadbelonged to some of his forebears, and set out in search of adventures. After travelling a long way, he came to a country that was much troubledby two giants, whom no one was bold enough to meet, and strong enough toovercome. He was soon told of the giants, and learned that the King ofthe country had offered a great reward and the hand of his daughter inmarriage to the man who should rid his land of this scourge. John'sheart rose to the deed, and he offered himself for the service. Thegreat haunt of the giants was a wood, and John set out with his oldsword to perform his task. When he reached the wood, he laid himselfdown to think what course he would follow, for he knew how weak he wascompared to those he had undertaken to kill. He had not waited long, when he saw them coming with a waggon to fetch wood for fuel. My! theywere big ones, with huge heads and long tusks for teeth. Johnny hidhimself in the hollow of a tree, thinking only of his own safety. Feeling himself safe, he peeped out of his hiding-place, and watched thetwo at work. Thus watching he formed his plan of action. He picked up apebble, threw it with force at one of them, and struck him a sharp blowon the head. The giant in his pain turned at once on his companion, andblamed him in strong words for hitting him. The other denied in angerthat he had thrown the pebble. John now saw himself on the high way togain his reward and the hand of the King's daughter. He kept still, andcarefully watched for an opportunity of striking another blow. He soonfound it, and right against the giant's head went another pebble. Theinjured giant fell on his companion in fury, and the two belaboured eachother till they were utterly tired out. They sat down on a log tobreathe, rest, and recover themselves. 

While sitting, one of them said, "Well, all the King's army was not ableto take us, but I fear an old woman with a rope's end would be too muchfor us now. "

"If that be so, " said Johnny Gloke, as he sprang, bold as a lion, fromhis hiding-place, "What do you say to Johnny Gloke with his old roostysword?" So saying he fell upon them, cut off their heads, and returnedin triumph. He received the King's daughter in marriage and for a timelived in peace and happiness. He never told the mode he followed in hisdealing with the giants. 

Some time after a rebellion broke out among the subjects of hisfather-in-law. John, on the strength of his former valiant deed, waschosen to quell the rebellion. His heart sank within him, but he couldnot refuse, and so lose his great name. He was mounted on the fiercesthorse that ever saw sun or wind, and set out on his desperate task. Hewas not accustomed to ride on horseback, and he soon lost all control ofhis steed. It galloped off at full speed, in the direction of the rebelarmy. In its wild career it passed under the gallows that stood by thewayside. The gallows was somewhat old and frail, and down it fell on thehorse's neck. Still the horse made no stop, but always forward atfurious speed towards the rebels. On seeing this strange sightapproaching towards them at such a speed they were seized with terror, and cried out to one another, "There comes Johnny Gloke that killed thetwo giants with the gallows on his horse's neck to hang us all. " Theybroke their ranks, fled in dismay, and never stopped till they reachedtheir homes. Thus was Johnny Gloke a second time victorious. So in duetime he came to the throne and lived a long, happy, and good life asking. 

Coat o' Clay

Once on a time, in the parts of Lindsey, there lived a wise woman. Somesaid she was a witch, but they said it in a whisper, lest she shouldoverhear and do them a mischief, and truly it was not a thing one couldbe sure of, for she was never known to hurt any one, which, if she werea witch, she would have been sure to do. But she could tell you whatyour sickness was, and how to cure it with herbs, and she could mix rarepossets that would drive the pain out of you in a twinkling; and shecould advise you what to do if your cows were ill, or if you'd got intotrouble, and tell the maids whether their sweethearts were likely to befaithful. 

But she was ill-pleased if folks questioned her too much or too long, and she sore misliked fools. A many came to her asking foolish things, as was their nature, and to them she never gave counsel--at least of akind that could aid them much. 

Well, one day, as she sat at her door paring potatoes, over the stileand up the path came a tall lad with a long nose and goggle eyes and hishands in his pockets. 

"That's a fool, if ever was one, and a fool's luck in his face, " saidthe wise woman to herself with a nod of her head, and threw a potatoskin over her left shoulder to keep off ill-chance. 

"Good-day, missis, " said the fool. "I be come to see thee. "

"So thou art, " said the wise woman; "I see that. How's all in thy folkthis year?"

"Oh, fairly, " answered he. "But they say I be a fool. "

"Ay, so thou art, " nodded she, and threw away a bad potato. "I see thattoo. But wouldst o' me? I keep no brains for sale. "

"Well, see now. Mother says I'll ne'er be wiser all my born days; butfolks tell us thou canst do everything. Can't thee teach me a bit, sothey'll think me a clever fellow at home?"

"Hout-tout!" said the wise woman; "thou 'rt a bigger fool than Ithought. Nay, I can't teach thee nought, lad; but I tell thee summat. Thou 'lt be a fool all thy days till thou gets a coat o' clay; and thenthou 'lt know more than me. "

"Hi, missis; what sort of a coat's that?" said he. 

"That's none o' my business, " answered she, "Thou 'st got to find outthat. "

And she took up her potatoes and went into her house. 

The fool took off his cap and scratched his head. 

"It's a queer kind of coat to look for, sure-_ly_, " said he, "I neverheard of a coat o' clay. But then I be a fool, that's true. "

So he walked on till he came to the drain near by, with just a pickle ofwater and a foot of mud in it. 

"Here's muck, " said the fool, much pleased, and he got in and rolled init spluttering. "Hi, yi!" said he--for he had his mouth full--"I've gota coat o' clay now to be sure. I'll go home and tell my mother I'm awise man and not a fool any longer. " And he went on home. 

Presently he came to a cottage with a lass at the door. 

"Morning, fool, " said she; "hast thou been ducked in the horse-pond?"

"Fool yourself, " said he, "the wise woman says I'll know more 'n shewhen I get a coat o' clay, and here it is. Shall I marry thee, lass?"

"Ay, " said she, for she thought she'd like a fool for a husband, "whenshall it be?"

"I'll come and fetch thee when I've told my mother, " said the fool, andhe gave her his lucky penny and went on. 

When he got home his mother was on the doorstep. 

"Mother, I 've got a coat o' clay, " said he. 

"Coat o' muck, " said she; "and what of that?"

"Wise woman said I'd know more than she when I got a coat o' clay, " saidhe, "so I down in the drain and got one, and I'm not a fool any longer. "

"Very good, " said his mother, "now thou canst get a wife. "

"Ay, " said he, "I'm going to marry so-an'-so. "

"What!" said his mother, "_that_ lass? No, and that thou 'lt not. She'snought but a brat, with ne'er a cow or a cabbage o' her own. "

"But I gave her my luck penny, " said the fool. 

"Then thou 'rt a bigger fool than ever, for all thy coat o' clay!" saidhis mother, and banged the door in his face. 

"Dang it!" said the fool, and scratched his head, "that's not the rightsort o' clay sure-_ly_. "

So back he went to the highroad and sat down on the bank of the riverclose by, looking at the water, which was cool and clear. 

By-and-by he fell asleep, and before he knew what he wasabout--plump--he rolled off into the river with a splash, and scrambledout, dripping like a drowned rat. 

"Dear, dear, " said he, "I'd better go and get dry in the sun. " So up hewent to the highroad, and lay down in the dust, rolling about so thatthe sun should get at him all over. 

Presently, when he sat up and looked down at himself, he found that thedust had caked into a sort of skin over his wet clothes till you couldnot see an inch of them, they were so well covered. "Hi, yi!" said he, "here's a coat o' clay ready made, and a fine one. See now, I'm a cleverfellow this time sure-_ly_, for I've found what I wanted without lookingfor it! Wow, but it's a fine feeling to be so smart!"

And he sat and scratched his head, and thought about his own cleverness. 

But all of a sudden, round the corner came the squire on horseback, fullgallop, as if the boggles were after him; but the fool had to jump, even though the squire pulled his horse back on his haunches. 

"What the dickens, " said the squire, "do you mean by lying in the middleof the road like that?"

"Well, master, " said the fool, "I fell into the water and got wet, so Ilay down in the road to get dry; and I lay down a fool an' got up a wiseman. "

"How's that?" said the squire. 

So the fool told him about the wise woman and the coat o' clay. 

"Ah, ah!" laughed the squire, "whoever heard of a wise man lying in themiddle of the highroad to be ridden over? Lad, take my word for it, youare a bigger fool than ever, " and he rode on laughing. 

"Dang it!" said the fool, as he scratched his head. "I've not got theright sort of coat yet, then. " And he choked and spluttered in the dustthat the squire's horse had raised. 

So on he went in a melancholy mood till he came to an inn, and thelandlord at his door smoking. 

"Well, fool, " said he, "thou 'rt fine and dirty. "

"Ay, " said the fool, "I be dirty outside an' dusty in, but it's not theright thing yet. "

And he told the landlord all about the wise woman and the coat o' clay. 

"Hout-tout!" said the landlord, with a wink. "I know what's wrong. Thou'st got a skin o' dirt outside and all dry dust inside. Thou mustmoisten it, lad, with a good drink, and then thou 'lt have a realall-over coat o' clay. "

"Hi, " said the fool, "that's a good word. "

So down he sat and began to drink. But it was wonderful how much liquorit took to moisten so much dust; and each time he got to the bottom ofthe pot he found he was still dry. At last he began to feel very merryand pleased with himself. 

"Hi, yi!" said he. "I've got a real coat o' clay now outside andin--what a difference it do make, to be sure. I feel another man now--sosmart. "

And he told the landlord he was certainly a wise man now, though hecouldn't speak over-distinctly after drinking so much. So up he got, andthought he would go home and tell his mother she hadn't a fool for a sonany more. 

But just as he was trying to get through the inn-door which wouldscarcely keep still long enough for him to find it, up came the landlordand caught him by the sleeve. 

"See here, master, " said he, "thou hasn't paid for thy score--where'sthy money?"

"Haven't any!" said the fool, and pulled out his pockets to show theywere empty. 

"What!" said the landlord, and swore; "thou 'st drunk all my liquor andhaven't got nought to pay for it with!"

"Hi!" said the fool. "You told me to drink so as to get a coat o' clay;but as I'm a wise man now I don't mind helping thee along in the worlda bit, for though I'm a smart fellow I'm not too proud to my friends. "

"Wise man! smart fellow!" said the landlord, "and help me along, wiltthee? Dang it! thou 'rt the biggest fool I ever saw, and it's I'll help_thee_ first--out o' this!"

And he kicked him out of the door into the road and swore at him. 

"Hum, " said the fool, as he lay in the dust, "I'm not so wise as Ithought. I guess I'll go back to the wise woman and tell her there's ascrew loose somewhere. "

So up he got and went along to her house, and found her sitting at thedoor. 

"So thou 'rt come back, " said she, with a nod. "What dost thou want withme now?"

So he sat down and told her how he'd tried to get a coat o' clay, and hewasn't any wiser for all of it. 

"No, " said the wise woman, "thou 'rt a bigger fool than ever, my lad. "

"So they all say, " sighed the fool; "but where can I get the right sortof coat o' clay, then, missis?"

"When thou 'rt done with this world, and thy folk put thee in theground, " said the wise woman. "That's the only coat o' clay as 'll makesuch as _thee_ wise, lad. Born a fool, die a fool, and be a fool thylife long, and that's the truth!"

And she went into the house and shut the door. 

"Dang it, " said the fool. "I must tell my mother she was right afterall, and that she'll never have a wise man for a son!"

And he went off home. 

The Three Cows

There was a farmer, and he had three cows, fine fat beauties they were. One was called Facey, the other Diamond, and the third Beauty. Onemorning he went into his cowshed, and there he found Facey so thin thatthe wind would have blown her away. Her skin hung loose about her, allher flesh was gone, and she stared out of her great eyes as though she'dseen a ghost; and what was more, the fireplace in the kitchen was onegreat pile of wood-ash. Well, he was bothered with it; he could not seehow all this had come about. 

Next morning his wife went out to the shed, and see! Diamond was for allthe world as wisht a looking creature as Facey--nothing but a bag ofbones, all the flesh gone, and half a rick of wood was gone too; but thefireplace was piled up three feet high with white wood-ashes. The farmerdetermined to watch the third night; so he hid in a closet which openedout of the parlour, and he left the door just ajar, that he might seewhat passed. 

Tick, tick, went the clock, and the farmer was nearly tired of waiting;he had to bite his little finger to keep himself awake, when suddenlythe door of his house flew open, and in rushed maybe a thousand pixies, laughing and dancing and dragging at Beauty's halter till they hadbrought the cow into the middle of the room. The farmer really thoughthe should have died with fright, and so perhaps he would had notcuriosity kept him alive. 

Tick, tick, went the clock, but he did not hear it now. He was toointent staring at the pixies and his last beautiful cow. He saw themthrow her down, fall on her, and kill her; then with their knives theyripped her open, and flayed her as clean as a whistle. Then out ran someof the little people and brought in firewood and made a roaring blaze onthe hearth, and there they cooked the flesh of the cow--they baked andthey boiled, they stewed and they fried. 

"Take care, " cried one, who seemed to be the king, "let no bone bebroken. "

Well, when they had all eaten, and had devoured every scrap of beef onthe cow, they began playing games with the bones, tossing them one toanother. One little leg-bone fell close to the closet door, and thefarmer was so afraid lest the pixies should come there and find him intheir search for the bone, that he put out his hand and drew it in tohim. Then he saw the king stand on the table and say, "Gather thebones!"

Round and round flew the imps, picking up the bones. "Arrange them, "said the king; and they placed them all in their proper positions in thehide of the cow. Then they folded the skin over them, and the kingstruck the heap of bone and skin with his rod. Whisht! up sprang the cowand lowed dismally. It was alive again; but, alas! as the pixies draggedit back to its stall, it halted in the off forefoot, for a bone wasmissing. 

 "The cock crew, Away they flew. "

and the farmer crept trembling to bed. 

The Blinded Giant

At Dalton, near Thirsk, in Yorkshire, there is a mill. It has quiterecently been rebuilt; but when I was at Dalton, six years ago, the oldbuilding stood. In front of the house was a long mound which went by thename of "the giant's grave, " and in the mill you can see a long blade ofiron something like a scythe-blade, but not curved, which was called"the giant's knife, " because of a very curious story which is told ofthis knife. Would you like to hear it? Well, it isn't very long. 

There once lived a giant at this mill who had only one eye in the middleof his forehead, and he ground men's bones to make his bread. One day hecaptured on Pilmoor a lad named Jack, and instead of grinding him in themill he kept him grinding as his servant, and never let him get away. Jack served the giant seven years, and never was allowed a holiday thewhole time. At last he could bear it no longer. Topcliffe fair wascoming on, and Jack begged that he might be allowed to go there. 

"No, no, " said the giant, "stop at home and mind your grinding. "

"I've been grinding and grinding these seven years, " said Jack, "and nota holiday have I had. I'll have one now, whatever you say. "

"We'll see about that, " said the giant. 

Well, the day was hot, and after dinner the giant lay down in the millwith his head on a sack and dozed. He had been eating in the mill, andhad laid down a great loaf of bone bread by his side, and the knife Itold you about was in his hand, but his fingers relaxed their hold of itin sleep. Jack seized the knife, and holding it with both his handsdrove the blade into the single eye of the giant, who woke with a howlof agony, and starting up, barred the door. Jack was again indifficulties, for he couldn't get out, but he soon found a way out ofthem. The giant had a favourite dog, which had also been sleeping whenhis master was blinded. So Jack killed the dog, skinned it, and threwthe hide over his back. 

"Bow, wow, " says Jack. 

"At him, Truncheon, " said the giant; "at the little wretch that I've fedthese seven years, and now has blinded me. "

"Bow, wow, " says Jack, and ran between the giant's legs on all-fours, barking till he got to the door. He unlatched it and was off, and nevermore was seen at Dalton Mill. 

Scrapefoot

Once upon a time, there were three Bears who lived in a castle in agreat wood. One of them was a great big Bear, and one was a middlingBear, and one was a little Bear. And in the same wood there was a Foxwho lived all alone, his name was Scrapefoot. Scrapefoot was very muchafraid of the Bears, but for all that he wanted very much to know allabout them. And one day as he went through the wood he found himselfnear the Bears' Castle, and he wondered whether he could get into thecastle. He looked all about him everywhere, and he could not see anyone. So he came up very quietly, till at last he came up to the door ofthe castle, and he tried whether he could open it. Yes! the door was notlocked, and he opened it just a little way, and put his nose in andlooked, and he could not see any one. So then he opened it a little wayfarther, and put one paw in, and then another paw, and another andanother, and then he was all in the Bears' Castle. He found he was in agreat hall with three chairs in it--one big, one middling, and onelittle chair; and he thought he would like to sit down and rest andlook about him; so he sat down on the big chair. But he found it so hardand uncomfortable that it made his bones ache, and he jumped down atonce and got into the middling chair, and he turned round and round init, but he couldn't make himself comfortable. So then he went to thelittle chair and sat down in it, and it was so soft and warm andcomfortable that Scrapefoot was quite happy; but all at once it broke topieces under him and he couldn't put it together again! So he got up andbegan to look about him again, and on one table he saw three saucers, ofwhich one was very big, one was middling, one was quite a little saucer. Scrapefoot was very thirsty, and he began to drink out of the bigsaucer. But he only just tasted the milk in the big saucer, which was sosour and so nasty that he would not taste another drop of it. Then hetried the middling saucer, and he drank a little of that. He tried twoor three mouthfuls, but it was not nice, and then he left it and went tothe little saucer, and the milk in the little saucer was so sweet and sonice that he went on drinking it till it was all gone. 

Then Scrapefoot thought he would like to go upstairs; and he listenedand he could not hear any one. So upstairs he went, and he found a greatroom with three beds in it; one was a big bed, and one was a middlingbed, and one was a little white bed; and he climbed up into the big bed, but it was so hard and lumpy and uncomfortable that he jumped down againat once, and tried the middling bed. That was rather better, but hecould not get comfortably in it, so after turning about a little whilehe got up and went to the little bed; and that was so soft and so warmand so nice that he fell fast asleep at once. 

And after a time the Bears came home, and when they got into the hallthe big Bear went to his chair and said, "WHO'S BEEN SITTING IN MYCHAIR?" and the middling Bear said, "WHO'S BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR?"and the little Bear said, "_Who's been sitting in my chair and hasbroken it all to pieces?_" And then they went to have their milk, andthe big Bear said, "WHO'S BEEN DRINKING MY MILK?" and the middling Bearsaid, "WHO'S BEEN DRINKING MY MILK?" and the little Bear said, "_Who'sbeen drinking my milk and has drunk it all up?_" Then they went upstairsand into the bedroom, and the big Bear said, "WHO'S BEEN SLEEPING IN MYBED?" and the middling Bear said, "WHO'S BEEN SLEEPING IN MY BED?" andthe little Bear said, "_Who's been sleeping in my bed?--and see here heis!_" So then the Bears came and wondered what they should do with him;and the big Bear said, "Let's hang him!" and then the middling Bearsaid, "Let's drown him!" and then the little Bear said, "Let's throw himout of the window. " And then the Bears took him to the window, and thebig Bear took two legs on one side and the middling Bear took two legson the other side, and they swung him backwards and forwards, backwardsand forwards, and out of the window. Poor Scrapefoot was so frightened, and he thought every bone in his body must be broken. But he got up andfirst shook one leg--no, that was not broken; and then another, and thatwas not broken; and another and another, and then he wagged his tail andfound there were no bones broken. So then he galloped off home as fastas he could go, and never went near the Bears' Castle again. 

The Pedlar of Swaffham

In the old days when London Bridge was lined with shops from one end tothe other, and salmon swam under the arches, there lived at Swaffham, inNorfolk, a poor pedlar. He'd much ado to make his living, trudging aboutwith his pack at his back and his dog at his heels, and at the close ofthe day's labour was but too glad to sit down and sleep. Now it fell outthat one night he dreamed a dream, and therein he saw the great bridgeof London town, and it sounded in his ears that if he went there heshould hear joyful news. He made little count of the dream, but on thefollowing night it come back to him, and again on the third night. 

Then he said within himself, "I must needs try the issue of it, " and sohe trudged up to London town. Long was the way and right glad was hewhen he stood on the great bridge and saw the tall houses on right handand left, and had glimpses of the water running and the ships sailingby. All day long he paced to and fro, but he heard nothing that mightyield him comfort. And again on the morrow he stood and he gazed--hepaced afresh the length of London Bridge, but naught did he see andnaught did he hear. 

Now the third day being come as he still stood and gazed, a shopkeeperhard by spoke to him. 

"Friend, " said he, "I wonder much at your fruitless standing. Have youno wares to sell?"

"No, indeed, " quoth the pedlar. 

"And you do not beg for alms. "

"Not so long as I can keep myself. "

"Then what, I pray thee, dost thou want here, and what may thy businessbe?"

"Well, kind sir, to tell the truth, I dreamed that if I came hither, Ishould hear good news. "

Right heartily did the shopkeeper laugh. 

"Nay, thou must be a fool to take a journey on such a silly errand. I'lltell thee, poor silly country fellow, that I myself dream too o' nights, and that last night I dreamt myself to be in Swaffham, a place cleanunknown to me, but in Norfolk if I mistake not, and methought I was inan orchard behind a pedlar's house, and in that orchard was a greatoak-tree. Then meseemed that if I digged I should find beneath that treea great treasure. But think you I'm such a fool as to take on me a longand wearisome journey and all for a silly dream. No, my good fellow, learn wit from a wiser man than thyself. Get thee home, and mind thybusiness. "

When the pedlar heard this he spoke no word, but was exceeding glad inhimself, and returning home speedily, digged underneath the greatoak-tree, and found a prodigious great treasure. He grew exceeding rich, but he did not forget his duty in the pride of his riches. For he builtup again the church at Swaffham, and when he died they put a statue ofhim therein all in stone with his pack at his back and his dog at hisheels. And there it stands to this day to witness if I lie. 

The Old Witch

Once upon a time there were two girls who lived with their mother andfather. Their father had no work, and the girls wanted to go away andseek their fortunes. Now one girl wanted to go to service, and hermother said she might if she could find a place. So she started for thetown. Well, she went all about the town, but no one wanted a girl likeher. So she went on farther into the country, and she came to the placewhere there was an oven where there was lots of bread baking. And thebread said, "Little girl, little girl, take us out, take us out. We havebeen baking seven years, and no one has come to take us out. " So thegirl 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, milkme, milk me! Seven years have I been waiting, and no one has come tomilk me. " The girl milked the cow into the pails that stood by. As shewas thirsty she drank some, and left the rest in the pails by the cow. Then she went on a little bit farther, and came to an apple tree, soloaded with fruit that its branches were breaking down, and the treesaid, "Little girl, little girl, help me shake my fruit. My branches arebreaking, it is so heavy. " And the girl said, "Of course I will, youpoor tree. " So she shook the fruit all off, propped up the branches, andleft the fruit on the ground under the tree. Then she went on again tillshe came to a house. Now in this house there lived a witch, and thiswitch took girls into her house as servants. And when she heard thatthis girl had left her home to seek service, she said that she would tryher, and give her good wages. The witch told the girl what work she wasto do. "You must keep the house clean and tidy, sweep the floor and thefireplace; but there is one thing you must never do. You must never lookup the chimney, or something bad will befall you. "

So the girl promised to do as she was told, but one morning as she wascleaning, and the witch was out, she forgot what the witch said, andlooked up the chimney. When she did this a great bag of money fell downin her lap. This happened again and again. So the girl started to go offhome. 

When she had gone some way she heard the witch coming after her. So sheran 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:

[Illustration:

 "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?"]

 "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, andjust as she got to the cow heard the witch coming after her again, soshe 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 heragain, 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 break my bones, And bury me under the marble stones. "

And the oven said, "I've no room, ask the baker, " and the baker hid herbehind the oven. 

When the witch came up she looked here and there and everywhere, andthen 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, andthe oven said, "Get in and look in the furthest corner. " The witch didso, and when she was inside the oven shut her door, and the witch waskept 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 wentthe same way. But when she reached the oven, and the bread said, "Littlegirl, little girl, take us out. Seven years have we been baking, and noone has come to take us out, " the girl said, "No, I don't want to burnmy 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 beenwaiting, and no one has come to milk me. " But the girl said, "No, Ican't milk you, I'm in a hurry, " and went on faster. Then she came tothe 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 tothe witch's house. Well, it happened to her just the same as to theother girl--she forgot what she was told, and one day when the witch wasout, looked up the chimney, and down fell a bag of money. Well, shethought she would be off at once. When she reached the apple-tree, sheheard 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 break my bones, And bury me under the marble stones. "

But the tree didn't answer, and she ran on further. Presently the witchcame 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 moneyaway from her, beat her, and sent her off home just as she was. 

The Three Wishes

Once upon a time, and be sure 't was a long time ago, there lived a poorwoodman in a great forest, and every day of his life he went out to felltimber. So one day he started out, and the goodwife filled his walletand slung his bottle on his back, that he might have meat and drink inthe forest. He had marked out a huge old oak, which, thought he, wouldfurnish many and many a good plank. And when he was come to it, he tookhis axe in his hand and swung it round his head as though he were mindedto fell the tree at one stroke. But he hadn't given one blow, when whatshould he hear but the pitifullest entreating, and there stood beforehim a fairy who prayed and beseeched him to spare the tree. He wasdazed, as you may fancy, with wonderment and affright, and he couldn'topen his mouth to utter a word. But he found his tongue at last, and, "Well, " said he, "I'll e'en do as thou wishest. "

"You've done better for yourself than you know, " answered the fairy, "and to show I'm not ungrateful, I'll grant you your next three wishes, be they what they may. " And therewith the fairy was no more to be seen, and the woodman slung his wallet over his shoulder and his bottle at hisside, and off he started home. 

But the way was long, and the poor man was regularly dazed with thewonderful thing that had befallen him, and when he got home there wasnothing in his noddle but the wish to sit down and rest. Maybe, too, 'twas a trick of the fairy's. Who can tell? Anyhow down he sat by theblazing fire, and as he sat he waxed hungry, though it was a long wayoff supper-time yet. 

"Hasn't thou naught for supper, dame?" said he to his wife. 

"Nay, not for a couple of hours yet, " said she. 

"Ah!" groaned the woodman, "I wish I'd a good link of black pudding herebefore me. "

No sooner had he said the word, when clatter, clatter, rustle, rustle, what should come down the chimney but a link of the finest black puddingthe heart of man could wish for. 

If the woodman stared, the goodwife stared three times as much. "What'sall this?" says she. 

Then all the morning's work came back to the woodman, and he told histale right out, from beginning to end, and as he told it the goodwifeglowered and glowered, and when he had made an end of it she burst out, "Thou bee'st but a fool, Jan, thou bee'st but a fool; and I wish thepudding were at thy nose, I do indeed. "

And before you could say Jack Robinson, there the goodman sat and hisnose was the longer for a noble link of black pudding. 

He gave a pull but it stuck, and she gave a pull but it stuck, and theyboth pulled till they had nigh pulled the nose off, but it stuck andstuck. 

"What's to be done now?" said he. 

"'T isn't so very unsightly, " said she, looking hard at him. 

Then the woodman saw that if he wished, he must need wish in a hurry;and wish he did, that the black pudding might come off his nose. Well!there it lay in a dish on the table, and if the goodman and goodwifedidn't ride in a golden coach, or dress in silk and satin, why, they hadat least as fine a black pudding for their supper as the heart of mancould desire. 

The Buried Moon

Long ago, in my grandmother's time, the Carland was all in bogs, greatpools of black water, and creeping trickles of green water, and squishymools which squirted when you stepped on them. 

Well, granny used to say how long before her time the Moon herself wasonce dead and buried in the marshes, and as she used to tell me, I'lltell you all about it. 

The Moon up yonder shone and shone, just as she does now, and when sheshone she lighted up the bog-pools, so that one could walk about almostas safe as in the day. 

But when she didn't shine, out came the Things that dwelt in thedarkness and went about seeking to do evil and harm; Bogles and CrawlingHorrors, all came out when the Moon didn't shine. 

Well, the Moon heard of this, and being kind and good--as she surely is, shining for us in the night instead of taking her natural rest--she wasmain troubled. "I'll see for myself, I will, " said she, "maybe it's notso bad as folks make out. "

Sure enough, at the month's end down she stept, wrapped up in a blackcloak, and a black hood over her yellow shining hair. Straight she wentto the bog edge and looked about her. Water here and water there; wavingtussocks and trembling mools, and great black snags all twisted andbent. Before her all was dark--dark but for the glimmer of the stars inthe pools, and the light that came from her own white feet, stealing outof her black cloak. 

The Moon drew her cloak faster about and trembled, but she wouldn't goback without seeing all there was to be seen; so on she went, steppingas light as the wind in summer from tuft to tuft between the greedygurgling water holes. Just as she came near a big black pool her footslipped and she was nigh tumbling in. She grabbed with both hands at asnag near by to steady herself with, but as she touched it, it twineditself round her wrists, like a pair of handcuffs, and gript her so thatshe couldn't move. She pulled and twisted and fought, but it was nogood. She was fast, and must stay fast. 

Presently as she stood trembling in the dark, wondering if help wouldcome, she heard something calling in the distance, calling, calling, andthen dying away with a sob, till the marshes were full of this pitifulcrying sound; then she heard steps floundering along, squishing in themud and slipping on the tufts, and through the darkness she saw a whiteface with great feared eyes. 

'T was a man strayed in the bogs. Mazed with fear he struggled on towardthe flickering light that looked like help and safety. And when thepoor Moon saw that he was coming nigher and nigher to the deep hole, further and further from the path, she was so mad and so sorry that shestruggled and fought and pulled harder than ever. And though shecouldn't get loose, she twisted and turned, till her black hood fellback off her shining yellow hair, and the beautiful light that came fromit drove away the darkness. 

Oh, but the man cried with joy to see the light again. And at once allevil things fled back into the dark corners, for they cannot abide thelight. So he could see where he was, and where the path was, and how hecould get out of the marsh. And he was in such haste to get away fromthe Quicks, and Bogles, and Things that dwelt there, that he scarcelooked at the brave light that came from the beautiful shining yellowhair, streaming out over the black cloak and falling to the water at hisfeet. And the Moon herself was so taken up with saving him, and withrejoicing that he was back on the right path, that she clean forgot thatshe needed help herself, and that she was held fast by the Black Snag. 

So off he went; spent and gasping, and stumbling and sobbing with joy, flying for his life out of the terrible bogs. Then it came over theMoon, she would main like to go with him. So she pulled and fought as ifshe were mad, till she fell on her knees, spent with tugging, at thefoot of the snag. And as she lay there, gasping for breath, the blackhood fell forward over her head. So out went the blessed light and backcame the darkness, with all its Evil Things, with a screech and a howl. They came crowding round her, mocking and snatching and beating;shrieking with rage and spite, and swearing and snarling, for they knewher for their old enemy, that drove them back into the corners, and keptthem from working their wicked wills. 

"Drat thee!" yelled the witch-bodies, "thou 'st spoiled our spells thisyear agone!"

"And us thou sent'st to brood in the corners!" howled the Bogles. 

And all the Things joined in with a great "Ho, ho!" till the verytussocks shook and the water gurgled. And they began again. 

"We'll poison her--poison her!" shrieked the witches. 

And "Ho, ho!" howled the Things again. 

"We'll smother her--smother her!" whispered the Crawling Horrors, andtwined themselves round her knees. 

And "Ho, ho!" mocked the rest of them. 

And again they all shouted with spite and ill-will. And the poor Mooncrouched down, and wished she was dead and done with. 

And they fought and squabbled what they should do with her, till a palegrey light began to come in the sky; and it drew nigh the dawning. Andwhen they saw that, they were feared lest they shouldn't have time towork their will; and they caught hold of her, with horrid bony fingers, and laid her deep in the water at the foot of the snag. And the Boglesfetched a strange big stone and rolled it on top of her, to keep herfrom rising. And they told two of the Will-o-the-wykes to take turns inwatching on the black snag, to see that she lay safe and still, andcouldn't get out to spoil their sport. 

And there lay the poor Moon, dead and buried in the bog, till some onewould set her loose; and who'd know where to look for her. 

Well, the days passed, and 't was the time for the new moon's coming, and the folk put pennies in their pockets and straws in their caps so asto be ready for her, and looked about, for the Moon was a good friend tothe marsh folk, and they were main glad when the dark time was gone, andthe paths were safe again, and the Evil Things were driven back by theblessed Light into the darkness and the waterholes. 

But days and days passed, and the new Moon never came, and the nightswere aye dark, and the Evil Things were worse than ever. And still thedays went on, and the new Moon never came. Naturally the poor folk werestrangely feared and mazed, and a lot of them went to the Wise Woman whodwelt in the old mill, and asked if so be she could find out where theMoon was gone. 

"Well, " said she, after looking in the brewpot, and in the mirror, andin the Book, "it be main queer, but I can't rightly tell ye what'shappened to her. If ye hear of aught, come and tell me. "

So they went their ways; and as days went by, and never a Moon came, naturally they talked--my word! I reckon they _did_ talk! their tongueswagged at home, and at the inn, and in the garth. But so came one day, as they sat on the great settle in the Inn, a man from the far end ofthe bog lands was smoking and listening, when all at once he sat up andslapped his knee. "My faicks!" says he, "I'd clean forgot, but I reckonI kens where the Moon be!" and he told them of how he was lost in thebogs, and how, when he was nigh dead with fright, the light shone out, and he found the path and got home safe. 

So off they all went to the Wise Woman, and told her about it, and shelooked long in the pot and the Book again, and then she nodded herhead. 

"It's dark still, childer, dark!" says she, "and I can't rightly see, but do as I tell ye, and ye 'll find out for yourselves. Go all of ye, just afore the night gathers, put a stone in your mouth, and take ahazel-twig in your hands, and say never a word till you're safe homeagain. Then walk on and fear not, far into the midst of the marsh, tillye find a coffin, a candle, and a cross. Then ye'll not be far from yourMoon; look, and m'appen ye 'll find her. "

So came the next night in the darklings, out they went all together, every man with a stone in his mouth, and a hazel-twig in his hand, andfeeling, thou may'st reckon, main feared and creepy. And they stumbledand stottered along the paths into the midst of the bogs; they sawnought, though they heard sighings and flutterings in their ears, andfelt cold wet fingers touching them; but all at once, looking around forthe coffin, the candle, and the cross, while they came nigh to the poolbeside the great snag, where the Moon lay buried. And all at once theystopped, quaking and mazed and skeery, for there was the great stone, half in, half out of the water, for all the world like a strange bigcoffin; and at the head was the black snag, stretching out its two armsin a dark gruesome cross, and on it a tiddy light flickered, like adying candle. And they all knelt down in the mud, and said, "Our Lord, first forward, because of the cross, and then backward, to keep off theBogles; but without speaking out, for they knew that the Evil Thingswould catch them, if they didn't do as the Wise Woman told them. "

Then they went nigher, and took hold of the big stone, and shoved it up, and afterwards they said that for one tiddy minute they saw a strangeand beautiful face looking up at them glad-like out of the black water;but the Light came so quick and so white and shining, that they steptback mazed with it, and the very next minute, when they could see again, there was the full Moon in the sky, bright and beautiful and kind asever, shining and smiling down at them, and making the bogs and thepaths as clear as day, and stealing into the very corners, as thoughshe'd have driven the darkness and the Bogles clean away if she could. 

A Son of Adam

A man was one day working. It was very hot, and he was digging. By-and-by he stopped to rest and wipe his face; and he was very angry tothink he had to work so hard only because of Adam's sin. So hecomplained bitterly, and said some very hard words about Adam. 

It happened that his master heard him, and he asked, "Why do you blameAdam? You'd ha' done just like Adam, if you'd a-been in his place. "

"No, I shouldn't, " said the man; "I should ha' know'd better. "

"Well, I'll try you, " says his master; "come to me at dinner-time. "

So come dinner-time, the man came, and his master took him into a roomwhere the table was a-set with good things of all sorts. And he said:"Now, you can eat as much as ever you like from any of the dishes on thetable; but don't touch the covered dish in the middle till I come back. "And with that the master went out of the room and left the man there allby himself. 

So the man sat down and helped himself, and ate some o' this dish andsome o' that, and enjoyed himself finely. But after awhile, as hismaster didn't come back, he began to look at the covered dish, and towonder whatever was in it. And he wondered more and more, and he says tohimself, "It must be something very nice. Why shouldn't I just look atit? I won't touch it. There can't be any harm in just peeping. " So atlast he could hold back no longer, and he lifted up the cover a tinybit; but he couldn't see anything. Then he lifted it up a bit more, andout popped a mouse. The man tried to catch it; but it ran away andjumped off the table and he ran after it. It ran first into one corner, and then, just as he thought he'd got it, into another, and under thetable, and all about the room. And the man made such a clatter, jumpingand banging and running round after the mouse, a-trying to catch it, that at last his master came in. 

"Ah!" he said; "never you blame Adam again, my man!"

The Children in the Wood

 Now ponder well, you parents dear, These words which I shall write; A doleful story you shall hear, In time brought forth to light. A gentleman of good account, In Norfolk dwelt of late, Who did in honour far surmount Most men of his estate. 

 Sore sick he was and like to die, No help his life could save; His wife by him as sick did lie, And both possest one grave. No love between these two was lost, Each was to other kind; In love they lived, in love they died, And left two babes behind. 

 The one a fine and pretty boy Not passing three years old, The other a girl more young than he, And framed in beauty's mould. The father left his little son, As plainly did appear, When he to perfect age should come, Three hundred pounds a year;

 And to his little daughter Jane Five hundred pounds in gold, To be paid down on marriage-day, Which might not be controlled. But if the children chanced to die Ere they to age should come, Their uncle should possess their wealth; For so the will did run. 

 "Now, brother, " said the dying man, "Look to my children dear; Be good unto my boy and girl, No friends else have they here; To God and you I recommend My children dear this day; But little while be sure we have Within this world to stay. 

 "You must be father and mother both, And uncle, all in one; God knows what will become of them When I am dead and gone. " With that bespake their mother dear: "O brother kind, " quoth she, "You are the man must bring our babes To wealth or misery. 

 "And if you keep them carefully, Then God will you reward; But if you otherwise should deal, God will your deeds regard. " With lips as cold as any stone, They kissed their children small: "God bless you both, my children dear!" With that the tears did fall. 

 These speeches then their brother spake To this sick couple there: "The keeping of your little ones, Sweet sister, do not fear; God never prosper me nor mine, Nor aught else that I have, If I do wrong your children dear When you are laid in grave!"

 The parents being dead and gone, The children home he takes, And brings them straight unto his house Where much of them he makes. He had not kept these pretty babes A twelvemonth and a day, But, for their wealth, he did devise To make them both away. 

 He bargained with two ruffians strong, Which were of furious mood, That they should take these children young, And slay them in a wood. He told his wife an artful tale He would the children send To be brought up in London town With one that was his friend. 

 Away then went those pretty babes, Rejoicing at that tide, Rejoicing with a merry mind They should on cock-horse ride. They prate and prattle pleasantly, As they ride on the way, To those that should their butchers be And work their lives' decay:

 So that the pretty speech they had Made Murder's heart relent; And they that undertook the deed Full sore now did repent. Yet one of them, more hard of heart, Did vow to do his charge, Because the wretch that hired him Had paid him very large. 

 The other won't agree thereto, So there they fall to strife; With one another they did fight About the children's life; And he that was of mildest mood Did slay the other there, Within an unfrequented wood; The babes did quake for fear!

 He took the children by the hand, Tears standing in their eye, And bade them straightway follow him, And look they did not cry; And two long miles he led them on, While they for food complain: "Stay here, " quoth he, "I'll bring you bread, When I come back again. "

 These pretty babes, with hand in hand, Went wandering up and down; But never more could see the man Approaching from the town. Their pretty lips with blackberries Were all besmeared and dyed; And when they saw the darksome night, They sat them down and cried. 

 Thus wandered these poor innocents, Till death did end their grief; In one another's arms they died, As wanting due relief: No burial this pretty pair From any man receives, Till Robin Redbreast piously Did cover them with leaves. 

 And now the heavy wrath of God Upon their uncle fell; Yea, fearful fiends did haunt his house, His conscience felt an hell: His barns were fired, his goods consumed, His lands were barren made, His cattle died within the field, And nothing with him stayed. 

 And in a voyage to Portugal Two of his sons did die; And to conclude, himself was brought To want and misery: He pawned and mortgaged all his land Ere seven years came about. And now at last this wicked act Did by this means come out, The fellow that did take in hand These children for to kill, Was for a robbery judged to die, Such was God's blessèd will: Who did confess the very truth, As here hath been displayed: The uncle having died in jail, Where he for debt was laid. 

 You that executors be made, And overseers eke, Of children that be fatherless, And infants mild and meek, Take you example by this thing, And yield to each his right, Lest God with suchlike misery Your wicked minds requite. 

The Hobyahs

Once there was an old man and woman and a little girl, and they alllived in a house made of hempstalks. Now the old man had a little dognamed Turpie; and one night the Hobyahs came and said, "Hobyah! Hobyah!Hobyah! Tear down the hempstalks, eat up the old man and woman, andcarry off the little girl!" But little dog Turpie barked so that theHobyahs ran off; and the old man said, "Little dog Turpie barks so thatI cannot sleep nor slumber, and if I live till morning I will cut offhis tail. " So in the morning the old man cut off little dog Turpie'stail. 

The next night the Hobyahs came again, and said, "Hobyah! Hobyah!Hobyah! Tear down the hempstalks, eat up the old man and woman, andcarry off the little girl!" But little dog Turpie barked so that theHobyahs ran off; and the old man said, "Little dog Turpie barks so thatI cannot sleep nor slumber, and if I live till morning I will cut offone of his legs. " So in the morning the old man cut off one of littledog Turpie's legs. 

The next night the Hobyahs came again, and said, "Hobyah! Hobyah!Hobyah! Tear down the hempstalks, eat up the old man and woman, andcarry off the little girl!" But little dog Turpie barked so that theHobyahs ran off; and the old man said, "Little dog Turpie barks so thatI cannot sleep nor slumber, and if I live till morning I will cut offanother of his legs. " So in the morning the old man cut off another oflittle dog Turpie's legs. 

The next night the Hobyahs came again, and said, "Hobyah! Hobyah!Hobyah! Tear down the hempstalks, eat up the old man and woman, andcarry off the little girl!" But little dog Turpie barked so that theHobyahs ran off; and the old man said, "Little dog Turpie barks so thatI cannot sleep nor slumber, and if I live till morning I will cut offanother of his legs. " So in the morning the old man cut off another oflittle dog Turpie's legs. 

The next night the Hobyahs came again, and said, "Hobyah! Hobyah!Hobyah! Tear down the hempstalks, eat up the old man and woman, andcarry off the little girl!" But little dog Turpie barked so that theHobyahs ran off; and the old man said, "Little dog Turpie barks so thatI cannot sleep nor slumber, and if I live till morning I will cut offanother of his legs. " So in the morning the old man cut off another oflittle dog Turpie's legs. 

The next night the Hobyahs came again, and said, "Hobyah! Hobyah!Hobyah! Tear down the hempstalks, eat up the old man and woman, andcarry off the little girl!" But little dog Turpie barked so that theHobyahs ran off; and the old man said, "Little dog Turpie barks so thatI cannot sleep nor slumber, and if I live till morning I will cut offlittle dog Turpie's head. " So in the morning the old man cut off littledog Turpie's head. 

The next night the Hobyahs came again, and said, "Hobyah! Hobyah!Hobyah! Tear down the hempstalks, eat up the old man and woman, andcarry off the little girl!" And when the Hobyahs found that little dogTurpie's head was off they tore down the hempstalks, ate up the old manand woman, and carried the little girl off in a bag. 

And when the Hobyahs came to their home they hung up the bag with thelittle girl in it, and every Hobyah knocked on the top of the bag andsaid, "Look me! look me!" And then they went to sleep until the nextnight, for the Hobyahs slept in the daytime. 

The little girl cried a great deal, and a man with a big dog came thatway and heard her crying. When he asked her how she came there and shetold him, he put the dog in the bag and took the little girl to hishome. 

The next night the Hobyahs took down the bag and knocked on the top ofit, and said "Look me! look me!" and when they opened the bag--the bigdog jumped out and ate them all up; so there are no Hobyahs now. 

A Pottle o' Brains

Once in these parts, and not so long gone neither, there was a fool thatwanted to buy a pottle o' brains, for he was ever getting into scrapesthrough his foolishness, and being laughed at by every one. Folk toldhim that he could get everything he liked from the wise woman that livedon the top o' the hill, and dealt in potions and herbs and spells andthings, and could tell thee! all as 'd come to thee or thy folk. So hetold his mother, and asked her if he could seek the wise woman and buy apottle o' brains. 

"That ye should, " says she; "thou 'st sore need o' them, my son: and ifI should die, who'd take care o' a poor fool such 's thou, no more fitto look after thyself than an unborn baby? but mind thy manners, andspeak her pretty, my lad; for they wise folk are gey and lightmispleased. "

So off he went after his tea, and there she was, sitting by the fire, and stirring a big pot. 

"Good e'en, missis, " says he, "it's a fine night. "

"Aye, " says she, and went on stirring. 

"It'll maybe rain, " says he, and fidgeted from one foot to t' other. 

"Maybe, " says she. 

"And m'appen it won't, " says he, and looked out o' the window. 

"M'appen, " says she. 

And he scratched his head and twisted his hat. 

"Well, " says he, "I can't mind nothing else about the weather, but letme see; the crops are getting on fine. "

"Fine, " says she. 

"And--and--the beasts is fattening, " says he. 

"They are, " says she. 

"And--and--" says he, and comes to a stop--"I reckon we'll tacklebusiness now, having done the polite like. Have you any brains for tosell?"

"That depends, " says she, "if thou wants king's brains, or soldier'sbrains, or schoolmaster's brains, I dinna keep 'em. "

"Hout no, " says he, "jist ordinary brains--fit for any fool--same asevery one has about here; something clean common-like. "

"Aye so, " says the wise woman, "I might manage that, if so be thou 'lthelp thyself. "

"How's that for, missis?" says he. 

"Jest so, " says she, looking in the pot; "bring me the heart of thething thou likest best of all, and I'll tell thee where to get thypottle o' brains. "

"But, " says he, scratching his head, "how can I do that?"

"That's no for me to say, " says she, "find out for thyself, my lad! ifthou doesn't want to be a fool all thy days. But thou 'll have to readme a riddle so as I can see thou 'st brought the right thing, and if thybrains is about thee. And I've something else to see to, " says she, "sogode'en to thee, " and she carried the pot away with her into the backplace. 

So off went the fool to his mother, and told her what the wise womansaid. 

"And I reckon I'll have to kill that pig, " says he, "for I like fatbacon better than anything. "

"Then do it, my lad, " said his mother, "for certain 't will be a strangeand good thing fur thee, if thou canst buy a pottle o' brains, and beable to look after thy own self. "

So he killed his pig, and next day off he went to the wise woman'scottage, and there she sat, reading in a great book. 

"Gode'en, missis, " says he, "I've brought thee the heart o' the thing Ilike the best of all; and I put it hapt in paper on the table. "

"Aye so?" says she, and looked at him through her spectacles. "Tell methis then, what runs without feet?"

He scratched his head, and thought, and thought, but he couldn't tell. 

"Go thy ways, " says she, "thou 'st not fetched me the right thing yet. I've no brains for thee to-day. " And she clapt the book together, andturned her back. 

So off the fool went to tell his mother. But as he got nigh the house, out came folk running to tell him that his mother was dying. 

And when he got in, his mother only looked at him and smiled as if tosay she could leave him with a quiet mind since he had got brains enoughnow to look after himself--and then she died. 

So down he sat and the more he thought about it the badder he felt. Heminded how she'd nursed him when he was a tiddy brat, and helped himwith his lessons, and cooked his dinners, and mended his clouts, andbore with his foolishness; and he felt sorrier and sorrier, while hebegan to sob and greet. 

"Oh, mother, mother!" says he, "who'll take care of me now? Thoushouldn't have left me alone, for I liked thee better than everything!"

And as he said that, he thought of the words of the wise woman. "Hi, yi!" says he, "must I take mother's heart to her?"

"No! I can't do that, " says he. "What'll I do? what'll I do to get thatpottle o' brains, now I'm alone in the world?" So he thought and thoughtand thought, and next day he went and borrowed a sack, and bundled hismother in, and carried it on his shoulder up to the wise woman'scottage. 

"Gode'en, missis, " says he, "I reckon I've fetched thee the right thingthis time, surely, " and he plumped the sack down kerflap! in thedoorsill. 

"Maybe, " says the wise woman, "but read me this, now, what's yellow andshining but isn't gold?"

And he scratched his head, and thought and thought, but he couldn'ttell. 

"Thou 'st not hit the right thing, my lad, " says she. "I doubt thou 'rta bigger fool than I thought!" and shut the door in his face. 

"See there!" says he, and set down by the road side and greets. 

"I've lost the only two things as I cared for, and what else can I findto buy a pottle o' brains with!" and he fair howled, till the tears randown into his mouth. And up came a lass that lived near at hand, andlooked at him. 

"What's up with thee, fool?" says she. 

"Oo, I've killed my pig, and lost my mother and I'm nobbut a foolmyself, " says he, sobbing. 

"That's bad, " says she; "and haven't thee anybody to look after thee?"

"No, " says he, "and I canna buy my pottle o' brains, for there's nothingI like best left!"

"What art talking about?" says she. 

And down she sets by him, and he told her all about the wise woman andthe pig, and his mother and the riddles, and that he was alone in theworld. 

"Well, " says she, "I wouldn't mind looking after thee myself. "

"Could thee do it?" says he. 

"Ou, ay!" says she; "folks say as fools make good husbands, and I reckonI'll have thee, if thou 'rt willing. "

"Can'st cook?" says he. 

"Ay, I can, " says she. 

"And scrub?" says he. 

"Surely, " says she. 

"And mend my clouts?" says he. 

"I can that, " says she. 

"I reckon thou 'lt do then as well as anybody, " says he; "but what'll Ido about this wise woman?"

"Oh, wait a bit, " says she, "something may turn up, and it'll not matterif thou 'rt a fool, so long'st thou 'st got me to look after thee. "

"That's true, " says he, and off they went and got married. And she kepthis house so clean and neat, and cooked his dinner so fine, that onenight he says to her: "Lass, I'm thinking I like thee best of everythingafter all. "

"That's good hearing, " says she, "and what then?"

"Have I got to kill thee, dost think, and take thy heart up to the wisewoman for that pottle o' brains?"

"Law, no!" says she, looking skeered, "I winna have that. But see here;thou didn't cut out thy mother's heart, did thou?"

"No; but if I had, maybe I'd have got my pottle o' brains, " says he. 

"Not a bit of it, " says she; "just thou take me as I be, heart and all, and I'll wager I'll help thee read the riddles. "

"Can thee so?" says he, doubtful like; "I reckon they're too hard forwomen folk. "

"Well, " says she, "let's see now. Tell me the first"

"What runs without feet?" says he. 

"Why, water!" says she. 

"It do, " says he, and scratched his head. 

"And what's yellow and shining but isn't gold?"

"Why, the sun!" says she. 

"Faith, it be!" says he. "Come, we'll go up to the wise woman at once, "and off they went. And as they came up the pad, she was sitting at thedoor, twining straws. 

"Gode'en, missis, " says he. 

"Gode'en, fool, " says she. 

"I reckon I've fetched thee the right thing at last, " says he. 

The wise woman looked at them both, and wiped her spectacles. 

"Canst tell me what that is as has first no legs, and then two legs, andends with four legs?"

And the fool scratched his head and thought and thought, but he couldn'ttell. 

And the lass whispered in his ear:

"It's a tadpole. "

"M'appen, " says he then, "it may be a tadpole, missis. "

The wise woman nodded her head. 

"That's right, " says she, "and thou 'st got thy pottle o' brainsalready. "

"Where be they?" says he, looking about and feeling in his pockets. 

"In thy wife's head, " says she. "The only cure for a fool is a good wifeto look after him, and that thou 'st got, so gode'en to thee!" And withthat she nodded to them, and up and into the house. 

So they went home together, and he never wanted to buy a pottle o'brains again, for his wife had enough for both. 

The King of England and His Three Sons

Once upon a time there was an old king who had three sons; and the oldking fell very sick one time and there was nothing at all could make himwell but some golden apples from a far country. So the three brotherswent on horseback to look for some of these apples. They set offtogether, and when they came to cross-roads they halted and refreshedthemselves a bit; and then they agreed to meet on a certain time, andnot one was to go home before the other. So Valentine took the right, and Oliver went straight on, and poor Jack took the left. 

To make my long story short, I shall follow poor Jack, and let the othertwo take their chance, for I don't think there was much good in them. Off poor Jack rides over hills, dales, valleys, and mountains, throughwoolly woods and sheepwalks, where the old chap never sounded his hollowbugle-horn, farther than I can tell you to-night or ever intend to tellyou. 

At last he came to an old house, near a great forest, and there was anold man sitting out by the door, and his look was enough to frighten youor any one else; and the old man said to him:

"Good morning, my king's son. "

"Good morning to you, old gentleman, " was the young prince's answer;frightened out of his wits though he was, he didn't like to give in. 

The old gentleman told him to dismount and to go in to have somerefreshment, and to put his horse in the stable, such as it was. Jacksoon felt much better after having something to eat, and began to askthe old gentleman how he knew he was a king's son. 

"Oh dear!" said the old man, "I knew that you were a king's son, and Iknow what is your business better than what you do yourself. So you willhave to stay here to-night; and when you are in bed you mustn't befrightened whatever you may hear. There will come all manner of frogsand snakes, and some will try to get into your eyes and your mouth, butmind, don't stir the least bit or you will turn into one of those thingsyourself. "

Poor Jack didn't know what to make of this, but, however, he ventured togo to bed. Just as he thought to have a bit of sleep, round and over andunder him they came, but he never stirred an inch all night. 

"Well, my young son, how are you this morning?"

"Oh, I am very well, thank you, but I didn't have much rest. "

"Well, never mind that; you have got on very well so far, but you havea great deal to go through before you can have the golden apples to goto your father. You'd better come and have some breakfast before youstart on your way to my other brother's house. You will have to leaveyour own horse here with me until you come back again, and tell meeverything about how you get on. "

After that out came a fresh horse for the young prince, and the old mangave him a ball of yarn, and he flung it between the horse's two ears. 

Off he went as fast as the wind, which the wind behind could not catchthe wind before, until he came to the second oldest brother's house. When he rode up to the door he had the same salute as from the first oldman, but this one was even uglier than the first one. He had long greyhair, and his teeth were curling out of his mouth, and his finger- andtoe-nails had not been cut for many thousand years. He put the horseinto a much better stable, and called Jack in, and gave him plenty toeat and drink, and they had a bit of a chat before they went to bed. 

"Well, my young son, " said the old man, "I suppose you are one of theking's children come to look for the golden apples to bring him back tohealth. "

"Yes, I am the youngest of the three brothers, and I should like to getthem to go back with. "

"Well, don't mind, my young son. Before you go to bed to-night I willsend to my eldest brother, and will tell him what you want, and he won'thave much trouble in sending you on to the place where you must get theapples. But mind not to stir to-night no matter how you get bitten andstung, or else you will work great mischief to yourself. "

The young man went to bed and bore all, as he did the first night, andgot up the next morning well and hearty. After a good breakfast outcomes a fresh horse, and a ball of yarn to throw between his ears. Theold man told him to jump up quick, and said that he had made it allright with his eldest brother, not to delay for anything whatever, "For, " said he, "you have a good deal to go through with in a very shortand quick time. "

He flung the ball, and off he goes as quick as lightning, and comes tothe eldest brother's house. The old man receives him very kindly andtold him he long wished to see him, and that he would go through hiswork like a man and come back safe and sound. "To-night, " said he, "Iwill give you rest; there shall nothing come to disturb you, so that youmay not feel sleepy for to-morrow. And you must mind to get up middlingearly, for you've got to go and come all in the same day; there will beno place for you to rest within thousands of miles of that place; and ifthere was, you would stand in great danger never to come from there inyour own form. Now, my young prince, mind what I tell you. To-morrow, when you come in sight of a very large castle, which will be surroundedwith black water, the first thing you will do you will tie your horse toa tree, and you will see three beautiful swans in sight, and you willsay, 'Swan, swan, carry me over in the name of the Griffin of theGreenwood, ' and the swans will swim you over to the earth. There willbe three great entrances, the first guarded by four great giants withdrawn swords in their hands, the second by lions, the other by fieryserpents and dragons. You will have to be there exactly at one o'clock;and mind and leave there precisely at two and not a moment later. Whenthe swans carry you over to the castle, you will pass all these things, all fast asleep, but you must not notice any of them. 

"When you go in, you will turn up to the right; you will see some grandrooms, then you will go downstairs through the cooking kitchen, andthrough; a door on your left you go into a garden, where you will findthe apples you want for your father to get well. After you fill yourwallet, you make all speed you possibly can, and call out for the swansto carry you over the same as before. After you get on your horse, should you hear anything shouting or making any noise after you, be surenot to look back, as they will follow you for thousands of miles; butwhen the time is up and you get near my place, it will be all over. Wellnow, my young man, I have told you all you have to do to-morrow; andmind, whatever you do, don't look about you when you see all thosefrightful things asleep. Keep a good heart, and make haste from there, and come back to me with all the speed you can. I should like to knowhow my two brothers were when you left them, and what they said to youabout me. "

[Illustration: The Castle of Melvales

 Swan Swan, Carry me over, In the name of the Griffin of Greenwood. ]

"Well, to tell the truth, before I left London my father was sick, andsaid I was to come here to look for the golden apples, for they were theonly things that would do him good; and when I came to your youngestbrother, he told me many things I had to do before I came here. And Ithought once that your youngest brother put me in the wrong bed, when heput all those snakes to bite me all night long, until your secondbrother told me 'So it was to be, ' and said, 'It is the same here, ' butsaid you had none in your beds. "

"Well, let's go to bed. You need not fear. There are no snakes here. "

The young man went to bed, and had a good night's rest, and got up thenext morning as fresh as newly caught trout. Breakfast being over, outcomes the other horse, and, while saddling and fettling, the old manbegan to laugh, and told the young gentleman that if he saw a prettyyoung lady, not to stay with her too long, because she might waken, andthen he would have to stay with her or to be turned into one of thoseunearthly monsters, like those he would have to pass by going into thecastle. 

"Ha! ha! ha! you make me laugh so that I can scarcely buckle thesaddle-straps. I think I shall make it all right, my uncle, if I see ayoung lady there, you may depend. "

"Well, my boy, I shall see how you will get on. "

So he mounts his Arab steed, and off he goes like a shot out of a gun. At last he comes in sight of the castle. He ties his horse safe to atree, and pulls out his watch. It was then a quarter to one, when hecalled out, "Swan, swan, carry me over, for the name of the old Griffinof the Greenwood. " No sooner said than done. A swan under each side, and one in front, took him over in a crack. He got on his legs, andwalked quietly by all those giants, lions, fiery serpents, and allmanner of other frightful things too numerous to mention, while theywere fast asleep, and that only for the space of one hour, when into thecastle he goes neck or nothing. Turning to the right, upstairs he runs, and enters into a very grand bedroom, and sees a beautiful Princesslying full stretch on a gold bedstead, fast asleep. He gazed on herbeautiful form with admiration, and he takes her garter off, and bucklesit on his own leg, and he buckles his on hers; he also takes her goldwatch and pocket-handkerchief, and exchanges his for hers; after that heventures to give her a kiss, when she very nearly opened her eyes. Seeing the time short, off he runs downstairs, and passing through thekitchen to go into the garden for the apples, he could see the cookall-fours on her back on the middle of the floor, with the knife in onehand and the fork in the other. He found the apples, and filled thewallet; and on passing through the kitchen the cook near wakened, but hewas obliged to make all the speed he possibly could, as the time wasnearly up. He called out for the swans, and they managed to take himover; but they found that he was a little heavier than before. No soonerthan he had mounted his horse he could hear a tremendous noise, theenchantment was broke, and they tried to follow him, but all to nopurpose. He was not long before he came to the oldest brother's house;and glad enough he was to see it, for the sight and the noise of allthose things that were after him nearly frightened him to death. 

"Welcome, my boy; I am proud to see you. Dismount and put the horse inthe stable, and come in and have some refreshments; I know you arehungry after all you have gone through in that castle. And tell me allyou did, and all you saw there. Other kings' sons went by here to go tothat castle, but they never came back alive, and you are the only onethat ever broke the spell. And now you must come with me, with a swordin your hand, and must cut my head off, and must throw it in that well. "

The young Prince dismounts, and puts his horse in the stable, and theygo in to have some refreshments, for I can assure you he wanted some;and after telling everything that passed, which the old gentleman wasvery pleased to hear, they both went for a walk together, the youngPrince looking around and seeing the place looking dreadful, as did theold man. He could scarcely walk from his toe-nails curling up like ram'shorns that had not been cut for many hundred years, and big long hair. They come to a well, and the old man gives the Prince a sword, and tellshim to cut his head off, and throw it in that well. The young man has todo it against his wish, but has to do it. 

No sooner has he flung the head in the well, than up springs one of thefinest young gentlemen you would wish to see; and instead of the oldhouse and the frightful-looking place, it was changed into a beautifulhall and grounds. And they went back and enjoyed themselves well, andhad a good laugh about the castle. 

The young Prince leaves this young gentleman in all his glory, and hetells the young Prince before leaving that he will see him again beforelong. They have a jolly shake-hands, and off he goes to the next oldestbrother; and, to make my long story short, he has to serve the other twobrothers the same as the first. 

Now the youngest brother began to ask him how things went on. "Did yousee my two brothers?"

"Yes. "

"How did they look?"

"Oh! they looked very well. I liked them much. They told me many thingswhat to do. "

"Well, did you go to the castle?"

"Yes, my uncle. "

"And will you tell me what you see in there? Did you see the younglady?"

"Yes, I saw her, and plenty of other frightful things. "

"Did you hear any snake biting you in my oldest brother's bed?"

"No, there were none there; I slept well. "

"You won't have to sleep in the same bed to-night. You will have to cutmy head off in the morning. "

The young Prince had a good night's rest, and changed all the appearanceof the place by cutting his friend's head off before he started in themorning. A jolly shake-hands, and the uncle tells him it's very probablehe shall see him again soon when he is not aware of it. This one'smansion was very pretty, and the country around it beautiful, after hishead was cut off. Off Jack goes, over hills, dales, valleys, andmountains, and very near losing his apples again. 

At last he arrives at the cross-roads, where he has to meet his brotherson the very day appointed. Coming up to the place, he sees no tracks ofhorses, and, being very tired, he lays himself down to sleep, by tyingthe horse to his leg, and putting the apples under his head. Presentlyup come the other brothers the same time to the minute, and found himfast asleep; and they would not waken him, but said one to another, "Letus see what sort of apples he has got under his head. " So they took andtasted them, and found they were different to theirs. They took andchanged his apples for theirs, and off to London as fast as they could, and left the poor fellow sleeping. 

After a while he awoke, and, seeing the tracks of other horses, hemounted and off with him, not thinking anything about the apples beingchanged. He had still a long way to go, and by the time he got nearLondon he could hear all the bells in the town ringing, but did not knowwhat was the matter till he rode up to the palace, when he came to knowthat his father was recovered by his brothers' apples. When he got therehis two brothers were off to some sports for a while; and the King wasglad to see his youngest son, and very anxious to taste his apples. Butwhen he found out that they were not good, and thought that they weremore for poisoning him, he sent immediately for the headsman to beheadhis youngest son, who was taken away there and then in a carriage. Butinstead of the headsman taking his head off, he took him to a forest notfar from the town, because he had pity on him, and there left him totake his chance, when presently up comes a big hairy bear, limping uponthree legs. The Prince, poor fellow, climbed up a tree, frightened ofhim, but the bear told him to come down, that it was no use of him tostop there. With hard persuasion poor Jack comes down, and the bearspeaks to him and bids him "Come here to me; I will not do you any harm. It's better for you to come with me and have some refreshments; I knowthat you are hungry all this time. "

The poor young Prince says, "No, I am not hungry; but I was veryfrightened when I saw you coming to me first, as I had no place to runaway from you. "

The bear said, "I was also afraid of you when I saw that gentlemansetting you down from the carriage. I thought you would have guns withyou, and that you would not mind killing me if you saw me; but when Isaw the gentleman going away with the carriage, and leaving you behindby yourself, I made bold to come to you, to see who you were, and now Iknow who you are very well. Are you not the king's youngest son? I haveseen you and your brothers and lots of other gentlemen in this wood manytimes. Now before we go from here, I must tell you that I am indisguise; and I shall take you where we are stopping. "

The young Prince tells him everything from first to last, how he startedin search of the apples, and about the three old men, and about thecastle, and how he was served at last by his father after he came home;and instead of the headsman taking his head off, he was kind enough toleave him his life, "and here I am now, under your protection. "

The bear tells him, "Come on, my brother; there shall no harm come toyou as long as you are with me. "

So he takes him up to the tents; and when they see 'em coming, the girlsbegin to laugh, and say, "Here is our Jubal coming with a younggentleman. " When he advanced nearer the tents, they all knew that he wasthe young Prince that had passed by that way many times before; and whenJubal went to change himself, he called most of them together into onetent, and told them all about him, and to be kind to him. And so theywere, for there was nothing that he desired but what he had, the same asif he was in the palace with his father and mother. Jubal, after hepulled off his hairy coat, was one of the finest young men amongst them, and he was the young Prince's closest companion. The young Prince wasalways very sociable and merry, only when he thought of the gold watchhe had from the young Princess in the castle, and which he had lost heknew not where. 

He passed off many happy days in the forest; but one day he and poorJubal were strolling through the trees, when they came to the very spotwhere they first met, and, accidentally looking up, he could see hiswatch hanging in the tree which he had to climb when he first saw poorJubal coming to him in the form of a bear; and he cries out, "Jubal, Jubal, I can see my watch up in that tree. "

"Well, I am sure, how lucky!" exclaimed poor Jubal; "shall I go and getit down?"

"No, I'd rather go myself, " said the young Prince. 

Now whilst all this was going on, the young Princess in that castle, seeing that one of the King of England's sons had been there by thechanging of the watch and other things, got herself ready with a largearmy, and sailed off for England. She left her army a little out of thetown, and she went with her guards straight up to the palace to see theKing, and also demanded to see his sons. They had a long conversationtogether about different things. At last she demands one of the sons tocome before her; and the oldest comes, when she asks him, "Have you everbeen at the Castle of Melvales?" and he answers, "Yes. " She throws downa pocket handkerchief and bids him to walk over it without stumbling. Hegoes to walk over it, and no sooner did he put his foot on it, than hefell down and broke his leg. He was taken off immediately and made aprisoner of by her own guards. The other was called upon, and was askedthe same questions, and I had to go through the same performance, and healso was made a prisoner of. Now she says, "Have you not another son?"when the King began so to shiver and shake and knock his two kneestogether that he could scarcely stand upon his legs, and did not knowwhat to say to her, he was so much frightened. At last a thought came tohim to send for his headsman, and inquire of him particularly, Did hebehead his son, or was he alive?

"He is saved, O King. "

"Then bring him here immediately, or else I shall be done for. "

Two of the fastest horses they had were put in the carriage, to go andlook for the poor Prince; and when they got to the very spot where theyleft him, it was the time when the Prince was up the tree, getting hiswatch down, and poor Jubal standing a distance off. They cried out tohim, Had he seen another young man in this wood? Jubal, seeing such anice carriage, thought something, and did not like to say No, and saidYes, and pointed up the tree; and they told him to come downimmediately, as there was a young lady in search of him. 

"Ha! ha! ha! Jubal, did you ever hear such a thing in all your life, mybrother?"

"Do you call him your brother?"

"Well, he has been better to me than my brothers. "

"Well, for his kindness he shall accompany you to the palace, and seehow things turn out. "

After they go to the palace, the Prince has a good wash, and appearsbefore the Princess, when she asks him, Had he ever been at the Castleof Melvales? With a smile upon his face, he gives a graceful bow. Andsays my Lady, "Walk over that handkerchief without stumbling. " He walksover it many times, and dances upon it, and nothing happened to him. Shesaid, with a proud and smiling air, "That is the young man;" and outcome the objects exchanged by both of them. Presently she orders a verylarge box to be brought in and to be opened, and out come some of themost costly uniforms that were ever worn on an emperor's back; and whenhe dressed himself up, the King could scarcely look upon him from thedazzling of the gold and diamonds on his coat. He orders his twobrothers to be in confinement for a period of time; and before thePrincess asks him to go with her to her own country, she pays a visit tothe bear's camp, and she makes some very handsome presents for theirkindness to the young Prince. And she gives Jubal an invitation to gowith them, which he accepts; wishes them a hearty farewell for a while, promising to see them all again in some little time. 

They go back to the King and bid farewell, and tell him not to be sohasty another time to order people to be beheaded before having a propercause for it. Off they go with all their army with them; but while thesoldiers were striking their tents, the Prince bethought himself of hisWelsh harp, and had it sent for immediately to take with him in abeautiful wooden case. They called to see each of those three brotherswhom the Prince had to stay with when he was on his way to the Castle ofMelvales; and I can assure you, when they all got together, they had avery merry time of it. And there we will leave them. 

King John and the Abbot of Canterbury

In the reign of King John there lived an Abbot of Canterbury who kept upgrand state in his Abbey. A hundred of the Abbot's men dined each daywith him in his refectory, and fifty knights in velvet coats and goldchains waited upon him daily. Well, King John, as you know, was a verybad king, and he couldn't brook the idea of any one in his kingdom, however holy he might be, being honoured more than he. So he summonedthe Abbot of Canterbury to his presence. 

The Abbot came with a goodly retinue, with his fifty knights-at-arms invelvet cloaks and gold chains. The King went to meet him, and said tohim, "How now, father Abbot? I hear it of thee, thou keepest far greaterstate than I. This becomes not our royal dignity, and savours of treasonin thee. "

"My liege, " quoth the Abbot, bending low, "I beg to say that all I spendhas been freely given to the Abbey out of the piety of the folk. I trustyour Grace will not take it ill that I spend for the Abbey's sake whatis the Abbey's. "

"Nay, proud prelate, " answered the King, "all that is in this fair realmof England is our own, and thou hast no right to put me to shame byholding such state. However, of my clemency I will spare thee thy lifeand thy property if you can answer me but three questions. "

"I will do so, my liege, " said the Abbot, "so far as my poor wit canextend. "

"Well, then, " said the King, "tell me where is the centre of all theworld round; then let me know how soon can I ride the whole world about;and, lastly, tell me what I think. "

"Your Majesty jesteth, " stammered the Abbot. 

"Thou wilt find it no jest, " said the King. "Unless thou canst answer methese questions three before a week is out, thy head will leave thybody;" and he turned away. 

Well, the Abbot rode off in fear and trembling, and first he went toOxford to see if any learned doctor could tell him the answer to thosequestions three; but none could help him, and he took his way toCanterbury, sad and sorrowful, to take leave of his monks. But on hisway he met his shepherd as he was going to the fold. 

"Welcome home, Lord Abbot, " quoth the shepherd; "what news from goodKing John?"

"Sad news, sad news, my shepherd, " said the Abbot, and told him all thathad happened. 

"Now, cheer up, Sir Abbot, " said the shepherd. "A fool may perhapsanswer what a wise man knows not. I will go to London in your stead;grant me only your apparel and your retinue of knights. At the least Ican die in your place. "

"Nay, shepherd, not so, " said the Abbot; "I must meet the danger in myown person. And to that, thou canst not pass for me. "

"But I can and I will, Sir Abbot. In a cowl, who will know me for what Iam?"

So at last the Abbot consented, and sent him to London in his mostsplendid array, and he approached King John with all his retinue asbefore, but dressed in his simple monk's dress and his cowl over hisface. 

"Now welcome, Sir Abbot, " said King John; "thou art prepared for thydoom, I see. "

"I am ready to answer your Majesty, " said he. 

"Well, then, question first--where is the centre of the round earth?"said the King. 

"Here, " said the shepherd Abbot, planting his crozier in the ground;"an' your Majesty believe me not, go measure it and see. "

"By St. Botolph, " said the King, "a merry answer and a shrewd; so toquestion the second. How soon may I ride this round world about?"

"If your Majesty will graciously rise with the sun, and ride along withhim until the next morning he rise, your Grace will surely have riddenit round. "

"By St. John, " laughed King John, "I did not think it could be done sosoon. But let that pass, and tell me question third and last, and thatis--What do I think?"

"That is easy, your Grace, " said he. "Your Majesty thinks I am my lordthe Abbot of Canterbury; but as you may see, " and here he raised hiscowl, "I am but his poor shepherd, that am come to ask your pardon forhim and for me. "

Loud laughed the King. "Well caught. Thou hast more wit than thy lord, and thou shalt be Abbot in his place. "

"Nay, that cannot be, " quoth the shepherd; "I know not to write nor toread. "

"Well, then, four nobles a week thou shalt have for the ready wit. Andtell the Abbot from me that he has my pardon. " And with that King Johnsent away the shepherd with a right royal present, besides his pension. 

Rushen Coatie

There was once a king and a queen, as many a one has been; few have weseen, and as few may we see. But the queen died, leaving only one bonnygirl, and she told her on her death-bed: "My dear, after I am gone, there will come to you a little red calf, and whenever you wantanything, speak to it, and it will give it you. "

Now, after a while, the king married again an ill-natured wife, withthree ugly daughters of her own. And they hated the king's daughterbecause she was so bonny. So they took all her fine clothes away fromher, and gave her only a coat made of rushes. So they called her RushenCoatie, and made her sit in the kitchen nook, amid the ashes. And whendinner-time came, the nasty stepmother sent her out a thimbleful ofbroth, a grain of barley, a thread of meat, and a crumb of bread. Butwhen she had eaten all this, she was just as hungry as before, so shesaid to herself: "Oh! how I wish I had something to eat. " Just then, whoshould come in but a little red calf, and said to her: "Put your fingerinto my left ear. " She did so, and found some nice bread. Then the calftold her to put her finger into its right ear, and she found there somecheese, and made a right good meal of the bread and cheese. And so itwent on from day to day. 

Now the king's wife thought Rushen Coatie would soon die from the scantyfood she got, and she was surprised to see her as lively and healthy asever. So she set one of her ugly daughters on the watch at meal times tofind out how Rushen Coatie got enough to live on. The daughter soonfound out that the red calf gave food to Rushen Coatie, and told hermother. So her mother went to the king and told him she was longing tohave a sweetbread from a red calf. Then the king sent for his butcher, and had the little red calf killed. And when Rushen Coatie heard of it, she sate down and wept by its side, but the dead calf said:

 "Take me up, bone by bone, And put me beneath yon grey stone; When there is aught you want Tell it me, and that I'll grant. "

So she did so, but could not find the shank-bone of the calf. 

Now the very next Sunday was Yuletide, and all the folk were going tochurch in their best clothes, so Rushen Coatie said: "Oh! I should liketo go to church, too, " but the three ugly sisters said: "What would youdo at the church, you nasty thing? You must bide at home and make thedinner. " And the king's wife said: "And this is what you must make thesoup of, a thimbleful of water, a grain of barley, and a crumb ofbread. "

When they all went to church, Rushen Coatie sat down and wept, butlooking up, who should she see coming in limping, lamping, with a shankwanting, but the dear red calf? And the red calf said to her: "Do notsit there weeping, but go, put on these clothes, and above all, put onthis pair of glass slippers, and go your way to church. "

"But what will become of the dinner?" said Rushen Coatie. 

"Oh, do not fash about that, " said the red calf, "all you have to do isto say to the fire:

 "'Every peat make t'other burn, Every spit make t'other turn, Every pot make t'other play, Till I come from church this good Yuleday, '

and be off to church with you. But mind you come home first. "

So Rushen Coatie said this, and went off to church, and she was thegrandest and finest lady there. There happened to be a young princethere, and he fell at once in love with her. But she came away beforeservice was over, and was home before the rest, and had off her fineclothes and on with her rushen coatie, and she found the calf hadcovered the table, and the dinner was ready, and everything was in goodorder when the rest came home. The three sisters said to Rushen Coatie:"Eh, lassie, if you had seen the bonny fine lady in church to-day, thatthe young prince fell in love with!" Then she said: "Oh! I wish youwould let me go with you to the church to-morrow, " for they used to gothree days together to church at Yuletide. 

But they said: "What should the like of you do at church, nasty thing?The kitchen nook is good enough for you. "

So the next day they all went to church, and Rushen Coatie was leftbehind, to make dinner out of a thimbleful of water, a grain of barley, a crumb of bread, and a thread of meat. But the red calf came to herhelp again, gave her finer clothes than before, and she went to church, where all the world was looking at her, and wondering where such a grandlady came from, and the prince fell more in love with her than ever, andtried to find out where she went to. But she was too quick for him, andgot home long before the rest, and the red calf had the dinner allready. 

The next day the calf dressed her in even grander clothes than before, and she went to the church. And the young prince was there again, andthis time he put a guard at the door to keep her, but she took a hop anda run and jumped over their heads, and as she did so, down fell one ofher glass slippers. She didn't wait to pick it up, you may be sure, butoff she ran home, as fast as she could go, on with the rushen coatie, and the calf had all things ready. 

Then the young prince put out a proclamation that whoever could put onthe glass slipper should be his bride. All the ladies of his court wentand tried to put on the slipper. And they tried and tried and tried, butit was too small for them all. Then he ordered one of his ambassadors tomount a fleet horse and ride through the kingdom and find an owner forthe glass shoe. He rode and he rode to town and castle, and made all theladies try to put on the shoe. Many a one tried to get it on that shemight be the prince's bride. But no, it wouldn't do, and many a onewept, I warrant, because she couldn't get on the bonny glass shoe. Theambassador rode on and on till he came at the very last to the housewhere there were the three ugly sisters. The first two tried it and itwouldn't do, and the queen, mad with spite, hacked off the toes andheels of the third sister, and she could then put the slipper on, andthe prince was brought to marry her, for he had to keep his promise. Theugly sister was dressed all in her best and was put up behind the princeon horseback, and off they rode in great gallantry. But ye all know, pride must have a fall, for as they rode along a raven sang out of abush--

 "Hackèd Heels and Pinchèd Toes Behind the young prince rides, But Pretty Feet and Little Feet Behind the cauldron bides. "

"What's that the birdie sings?" said the young prince. 

"Nasty, lying thing, " said the step-sister, "never mind what it says. "

But the prince looked down and saw the slipper dripping with blood, sohe rode back and put her down. Then he said, "There must be some onethat the slipper has not been tried on. "

"Oh, no, " said they, "there's none but a dirty thing that sits in thekitchen nook and wears a rushen coatie. "

But the prince was determined to try it on Rushen Coatie, but she ranaway to the grey stone, where the red calf dressed her in her bravestdress, and she went to the prince and the slipper jumped out of hispocket on to her foot, fitting her without any chipping or paring. Sothe prince married her that very day, and they lived happy ever after. 

The King o' the Cats

One winter's evening the sexton's wife was sitting by the fireside withher big black cat, Old Tom, on the other side, both half asleep andwaiting for the master to come home. They waited and they waited, butstill he didn't come, till at last he came rushing in, calling out, "Who's Tommy Tildrum?" in such a wild way that both his wife and his catstared at him to know what was the matter. 

"Why, what's the matter?" said his wife, "and why do you want to knowwho Tommy Tildrum is?"

"Oh, I've had such an adventure. I was digging away at old Mr. Fordyce'sgrave when I suppose I must have dropped asleep, and only woke up byhearing a cat's _Miaou_. "

"_Miaou!_" said Old Tom in answer. 

"Yes, just like that! So I looked over the edge of the grave, and whatdo you think I saw?"

"Now, how can I tell?" said the sexton's wife. 

"Why, nine black cats all like our friend Tom here, all with a whitespot on their chestesses. And what do you think they were carrying? Why, a small coffin covered with a black velvet pall, and on the pall was asmall coronet all of gold, and at every third step they took they criedall together, _Miaou_--"

"_Miaou!_" said Old Tom again. 

"Yes, just like that!" said the Sexton; "and as they came nearer andnearer to me I could see them more distinctly, because their eyes shoneout with a sort of green light. Well, they all came towards me, eight ofthem carrying the coffin, and the biggest cat of all walking in frontfor all the world like--but look at our Tom, how he's looking at me. You'd think he knew all I was saying. "

"Go on, go on, " said his wife; "never mind Old Tom. "

"Well, as I was a-saying, they came towards me slowly and solemnly, andat every third step crying all together, _Miaou!_--"

"_Miaou!_" said Old Tom again. 

"Yes, just like that, till they came and stood right opposite Mr. Fordyce's grave, where I was, when they all stood still and lookedstraight at me. I did feel queer, that I did! But look at Old Tom; he'slooking at me just like they did. "

"Go on, go on, " said his wife; "never mind Old Tom. "

"Where was I? Oh, they all stood still looking at me, when the one thatwasn't carrying the coffin came forward and, staring straight at me, said to me--yes, I tell 'ee, _said_ to me, with a squeaky voice, 'TellTom Tildrum that Tim Toldrum's dead, ' and that's why I asked you if youknew who Tom Tildrum was, for how can I tell Tom Tildrum Tim Toldrum'sdead if I don't know who Tom Tildrum is?"

"Look at Old Tom, look at Old Tom!" screamed his wife. 

And well he might look, for Tom was swelling and Tom was staring, and atlast Tom shrieked out, "What--old Tim dead! then I'm the King o' theCats!" and rushed up the chimney and was never more seen. 

Tamlane

Young Tamlane was son of Earl Murray, and Burd Janet was daughter ofDunbar, Earl of March. And when they were young they loved one anotherand plighted their troth. But when the time came near for theirmarrying, Tamlane disappeared, and none knew what had become of him. 

Many, many days after he had disappeared, Burd Janet was wandering inCarterhaugh Wood, though she had been warned not to go there. And as shewandered she plucked the flowers from the bushes. She came at last to abush of broom and began plucking it. She had not taken more than threeflowerets when by her side up started young Tamlane. 

"Where come ye from, Tamlane, Tamlane?" Burd Janet said; "and why haveyou been away so long?"

"From Elfland I come, " said young Tamlane. "The Queen of Elfland hasmade me her knight. "

"But how did you get there, Tamlane?" said Burd Janet. 

"I was hunting one day, and as I rode widershins round yon hill, a deepdrowsiness fell upon me, and when I awoke, behold! I was in Elfland. Fair is that land and gay, and fain would I stop but for thee and oneother thing. Every seven years the Elves pay their tithe to the Netherworld, and for all the Queen makes much of me, I fear it is myself thatwill be the tithe. "

"Oh can you not be saved? Tell me if aught I can do will save you, Tamlane?"

"One only thing is there for my safety. To-morrow night is Hallowe'en, and the fairy court will then ride through England and Scotland, and ifyou would borrow me from Elfland you must take your stand by Miles Crossbetween twelve and one o' the night, and with holy water in your handyou must cast a compass all around you. "

"But how shall I know you, Tamlane?" quoth Burd Janet, "amid so manyknights I've ne'er seen before?"

"The first court of Elves that come by let pass. The next court youshall pay reverence to, but do naught nor say aught. But the third courtthat comes by is the chief court of them, and at the head rides theQueen of all Elfland. And I shall ride by her side upon a milk-whitesteed with a star in my crown; they give me this honour as being achristened knight. Watch my hands, Janet, the right one will be glovedbut the left one will be bare, and by that token you will know me. "

"But how to save you, Tamlane?" quoth Burd Janet. 

"You must spring upon me suddenly, and I will fall to the ground. Thenseize me quick, and whatever change befall me, for they will exerciseall their magic on me, cling hold to me till they turn me into red-hotiron. Then cast me into this pool and I will be turned back into amother-naked man. Cast then your green mantle over me, and I shall beyours, and be of the world again. "

So Burd Janet promised to do all for Tamlane, and next night at midnightshe took her stand by Miles Cross and cast a compass round her with holywater. 

Soon there came riding by the Elfin court, first over the mound went atroop on black steeds, and then another troop on brown. But in the thirdcourt, all on milk-white steeds, she saw the Queen of Elfland, and byher side a knight with a star in his crown, with right hand gloved andthe left bare. Then she knew this was her own Tamlane, and springingforward she seized the bridle of the milk-white steed and pulled itsrider down. And as soon as he had touched the ground she let go thebridle and seized him in her arms. 

"He's won, he's won amongst us all, " shrieked out the eldritch crew, andall came around her and tried their spells on young Tamlane. 

First they turned him in Janet's arms like frozen ice, then into a hugeflame of roaring fire. Then, again, the fire vanished and an adder wasskipping through her arms, but still she held on; and then they turnedhim into a snake that reared up as if to bite her, and yet she held on. Then suddenly a dove was struggling in her arms, and almost flew away. Then they turned him into a swan, but all was in vain, till at last hewas turned into a red-hot glaive, and this she cast into a well of waterand then he turned back into a mother-naked man. She quickly cast hergreen mantle over him, and young Tamlane was Burd Janet's for ever. 

Then sang the Queen of Elfland as the court turned away and began toresume its march:

 "She that has borrowed young Tamlane Has gotten a stately groom, She's taken away my bonniest knight, Left nothing in his room. 

 "But had I known, Tamlane, Tamlane, A lady would borrow thee, I'd hae ta'en out thy two grey eyne, Put in two eyne of tree. 

 "Had I but known, Tamlane, Tamlane, Before we came from home, I'd hae ta'en out thy heart o' flesh, Put in a heart of stone. 

 "Had I but had the wit yestreen That I have got to-day, I'd paid the Fiend seven times his teind Ere you'd been won away. "

And then the Elfin court rode away, and Burd Janet and young Tamlanewent their way homewards and were soon after married after young Tamlanehad again been sained by the holy water and made Christian once more. 

The Stars in the Sky

Once on a time and twice on a time, and all times together as ever Iheard tell of, there was a tiny lassie who would weep all day to havethe stars in the sky to play with; she wouldn't have this, and shewouldn't have that, but it was always the stars she would have. So onefine day off she went to find them. And she walked and she walked andshe walked, till by-and-by she came to a mill-dam. 

"Goode'en to ye, " says she, "I'm seeking the stars in the sky to playwith. Have you seen any?"

"Oh, yes, my bonnie lassie, " said the mill-dam. "They shine in my ownface o' nights till I can't sleep for them. Jump in and perhaps you'llfind one. "

So she jumped in, and swam about and swam about and swam about, butne'er a one could she see. So she went on till she came to a brooklet. 

"Goode'en to ye, Brooklet, Brooklet, " says she; "I'm seeking the starsin the sky to play with. Have you seen any?"

"Yes, indeed, my bonny lassie, " said the Brooklet. "They glint on mybanks at night. Paddle about, and maybe you'll find one. "

So she paddled and she paddled and she paddled, but ne'er a one did shefind. So on she went till she came to the Good Folk. 

"Goode'en to ye, Good Folk, " says she; "I'm looking for the stars in thesky to play with. Have ye seen e'er a one?"

"Why, yes, my bonny lassie, " said the Good Folk. "They shine on thegrass here o' night. Dance with us, and maybe you'll find one. "

And she danced and she danced and she danced, but ne'er a one did shesee. So down she sate; I suppose she wept. 

"Oh dearie me, oh dearie me, " says she, "I've swam and I've paddled andI've danced, and if ye'll not help me I shall never find the stars inthe sky to play with. "

But the Good Folk whispered together, and one of them came up to her andtook her by the hand and said, "If you won't go home to your mother, goforward, go forward; mind you take the right road. Ask Four Feet tocarry you to No Feet at all, and tell No Feet at all to carry you to thestairs without steps, and if you can climb that--"

"Oh, shall I be among the stars in the sky then?" cried the lassie. 

"If you'll not be, then you'll be elsewhere, " said the Good Folk, andset to dancing again. 

So on she went again with a light heart, and by-and-by she came to asaddled horse, tied to a tree. 

"Goode'en to ye, Beast, " said she; "I'm seeking the stars in the sky toplay with. Will you give me a lift, for all my bones are an-aching. "

"Nay, " said the horse, "I know nought of the stars in the sky, and I'mhere to do the bidding of the Good Folk, and not my own will. "

"Well, " said she, "it's from the Good Folk I come, and they bade me tellFour Feet to carry me to No Feet at all. "

"That's another story, " said he; "jump up and ride with me. "

So they rode and they rode and they rode, till they got out of theforest and found themselves at the edge of the sea. And on the water infront of them was a wide glistening path running straight out towards abeautiful thing that rose out of the water and went up into the sky, andwas all the colours in the world, blue and red and green, and wonderfulto look at. 

"Now get you down, " said the horse; "I've brought ye to the end of theland, and that's as much as Four Feet can do. I must away home to my ownfolk. "

"But, " said the lassie, "where's No Feet at all, and where's the stairwithout steps?"

"I know not, " said the horse, "it's none of my business neither. Sogoode'en to ye, my bonny lassie;" and off he went. 

So the lassie stood still and looked at the water, till a strange kindof fish came swimming up to her feet. 

"Goode'en to ye, big Fish, " says she, "I'm looking for the stars in thesky, and for the stairs that climb up to them. Will ye show me the way?"

"Nay, " said the Fish, "I can't unless you bring me word from the GoodFolk. "

"Yes, indeed, " said she. "They said Four Feet would bring me to No Feetat all, and No Feet at all would carry me to the stairs without steps. "

"Ah, well, " said the Fish; "that's all right then. Get on my back andhold fast. "

And off he went--Kerplash!--into the water, along the silver path, towards the bright arch. And the nearer they came the brighter the sheenof it, till she had to shade her eyes from the light of it. 

And as they came to the foot of it, she saw it was a broad bright road, sloping up and away into the sky, and at the far, far end of it shecould see wee shining things dancing about. 

"Now, " said the Fish, "here you are, and yon's the stair; climb up, ifyou can, but hold on fast. I'll warrant you find the stair easier athome than by such a way; 't was ne'er meant for lassies' feet totravel;" and off he splashed through the water. 

So she clomb and she clomb and she clomb, but ne'er a step higher didshe get: the light was before her and around her, and the water behindher, and the more she struggled the more she was forced down into thedark and the cold, and the more she clomb the deeper she fell. 

But she clomb and she clomb, till she got dizzy in the light andshivered with the cold, and dazed with the fear; but still she clomb, till at last, quite dazed and silly-like, she let clean go, and sankdown--down--down. 

And bang she came on to the hard boards, and found herself sitting, weeping and wailing, by the bedside at home all alone. 

News!

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

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

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

STEWARD. Over-ate himself, Sir. 

MR. G. Did he indeed? a greedy dog. Why, what did he get that he likedso 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. Ay, Sir; they died of over-work. 

MR. G. And why were they over-worked?

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. Ay, 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 ofit. 

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'renot worth a shilling in the world. I make bold, Sir, to come and wait onyou about it; for I thought you would like to hear the news. 

Puddock, Mousie, and Ratton

 There lived a Puddock in a well, And a merry Mousie in a mill. 

 Puddock he would a-wooing rid Sword and pistol by his side. 

 Puddock came to the Mousie's inn, "Mistress Mousie, are you within?"

 MOUSIE. 

 "Yes, kind Sir, I am within, Softly do I sit and spin. "

 PUDDOCK. 

 "Madam, I am come to woo, Marriage I must have of you. "

 MOUSIE. 

 "Marriage I will grant you none Till Uncle Ratton he comes home. "

 PUDDOCK. 

 "See, Uncle Ratton's now come in Then go and bask the bride within. "

 Who is it that sits next the wall But Lady Mousie both slim and small?

 Who is it that sits next the bride But Lord Puddock with yellow side?

 But soon came Duckie and with her Sir Drake; Duckie takes Puddock and makes him squeak. 

 Then came in the old carl cat With a fiddle on his back: "Do ye any music lack?"

 Puddock he swam down the brook, Sir Drake he catched him in his fluke. 

 The cat he pulled Lord Ratton down, The kittens they did claw his crown. 

 But Lady Mousie, so slim and small, Crept into a hole beneath the wall; "Squeak, " quoth she, "I'm out of it all. "

The Little Bull-Calf

Centuries of years ago, when almost all this part of the country waswilderness, there was a little boy, who lived in a poor bit of propertyand his father gave him a little bull-calf, and with it he gave himeverything he wanted for it. 

But soon after his father died, and his mother got married again to aman that turned out to be a very vicious step-father, who couldn't abidethe little boy. So at last the step-father said: "If you bring thatbull-calf into this house, I'll kill it. " What a villain he was, wasn'the?

Now this little boy used to go out and feed his bull-calf every day withbarley bread, and when he did so this time, an old man came up tohim--we can guess who that was, eh?--and said to him: "You and yourbull-calf had better go away and seek your fortune. "

So he went on and he went on and he went on, as far as I could tell youtill to-morrow night, and he went up to a farmhouse and begged a crustof bread, and when he got back he broke it in two and gave half of it tothe bull-calf. And he went to another house and begged a bit of cheesecrud, and when he went back he wanted to give half of it to thebull-calf. "No, " says the bull-calf, "I'm going across the field, intothe wild-wood wilderness country, where there'll be tigers, leopards, wolves, monkeys, and a fiery dragon, and I'll kill them all except thefiery dragon, and he'll kill me. "

The little boy did cry, and said: "Oh, no, my little bull-calf; I hopehe won't kill you. "

"Yes, he will, " said the little bull-calf, "so you climb up that tree, so that no one can come nigh you but the monkeys, and if they come thecheese crud will save you. And when I'm killed, the dragon will go awayfor a bit, then you must come down the tree and skin me, and take out mybladder and blow it out, and it will kill everything you hit with it. Sowhen the fiery dragon comes back, you hit it with my bladder and cut itstongue out. "

(We know there were fiery dragons in those days, like George and hisdragon in the legend; but, there! it's not the same world nowadays. Theworld is turned topsy-turvy since then, like as if you'd turn it overwith a spade!)

Of course, he did all the little bull-calf told him. He climbed up thetree, and the monkeys climbed up the tree after him. But he held thecheese crud in his hand, and said: "I'll squeeze your heart like theflint-stone. " So the monkey cocked his eye as much as to say: "If youcan squeeze a flint-stone to make the juice come out of it, you cansqueeze me. " But he didn't say anything, for a monkey's cunning, butdown he went. And all the while the little bull-calf was fighting allthe wild beasts on the ground, and the little lad was clapping his handsup the tree, and calling out: "Go in, my little bull-calf! Well fought, little bull-calf!" And he mastered everything except the fiery dragon, but the fiery dragon killed the little bull-calf. 

But the lad waited and waited till he saw the dragon go away, then hecame down and skinned the little bull-calf, and took out its bladder andwent after the dragon. And as he went on, what should he see but aking's daughter, staked down by the hair of her head, for she had beenput there for the dragon to destroy her. 

So he went up and untied her hair, but she said: "My time has come forthe dragon to destroy me; go away, you can do no good. " But he said:"No! I can master it, and I won't go"; and for all her begging andpraying he would stop. 

And soon he heard it coming, roaring and raging from afar off, and atlast it came near, spitting fire, and with a tongue like a great spear, and you could hear it roaring for miles, and it was making for the placewhere the king's daughter was staked down. But when it came up to them, the lad just hit it on the head with the bladder and the dragon felldown dead, but before it died, it bit off the little boy's forefinger. 

[Illustration: THE LITTLE BULL-CALF]

Then the lad cut out the dragon's tongue and said to the king'sdaughter: "I've done all I can, I must leave you. " And sorry she was hehad to go, and before he went she tied a diamond ring in his hair, andsaid good-bye to him. 

By-and-by, who should come along but the old king, lamenting andweeping, expecting to see nothing of his daughter but the prints of theplace where she had been. But he was surprised to find her there aliveand safe, and he said: "How came you to be saved?" So she told him howshe had been saved, and he took her home to his castle again. 

Well, he put it into all the papers to find out who saved his daughter, and who had the dragon's tongue and the princess's diamond ring, and waswithout his forefinger. Whoever could show these signs should marry hisdaughter and have his kingdom after his death. Well, any number ofgentlemen came from all parts of England, with forefingers cut off, andwith diamond rings and all kinds of tongues, wild beasts' tongues andforeign tongues. But they couldn't show any dragons' tongues, so theywere turned away. 

At last the little boy turned up, looking very ragged and desolatedlike, and the king's daughter cast her eye on him, till her father grewvery angry and ordered them to turn the little beggar boy away. "Father, " says she; "I know something of that boy. "

Well, still the fine gentlemen came, bringing up their dragons' tonguesthat weren't dragons' tongues, and at last the little boy came up, dressed a little better. So the old king says: "I see you've got an eyeon that boy. If it has to be him it must be him. " But all the otherswere fit to kill him, and cried out: "Pooh, pooh, turn that boy out, itcan't be him. " But the king said: "Now, my boy, let's see what you haveto show. " Well, he showed the diamond ring with her name on it, and thefiery dragon's tongue. How the others were thunderstruck when he showedhis proofs! But the king told him: "You shall have my daughter and myestate. "

So he married the princess, and afterwards got the king's estate. Thenhis step-father came and wanted to own him, but the young king didn'tknow such a man. 

The Wee, Wee Mannie

Once upon a time, when all big folks were wee ones and all lies weretrue, there was a wee, wee Mannie that had a big, big Coo. And out hewent 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, weeMannie--

 "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 thewee, 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, "Coowon'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'tbeat 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 backthe 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 cup o' milk. "

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

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

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

"Well, " said his mother, "tell the big, big Coo there's a sharp, sharpsword at the belt of the fine, fine laddie from the wars who sits besidethe 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 tobe cut off by the sharp, sharp sword in the hands of the fine, fineladdie, if she doesn't give the sup o' milk the weary, weary lady weepsfor. "

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 thefine, fine laddie come from the wars, and the weary, weary lady weepingfor a sup o' milk, she reckoned she'd better hold still; so wee, weeMannie milked big, big Coo, and the weary, weary lady with the goldenhair hushed her weeping and got her sup o' milk, and the fine, fineladdie new come from the wars put by his sharp, sharp sword, and allwent well that didn't go ill. 

Habetrot and Scantlie Mab

A woman had one fair daughter, who loved play better than work, wandering in the meadows and lanes better than the spinning-wheel anddistaff. The mother was heartily vexed at this, for in those days nolassie had any chance of a good husband unless she was an industriousspinster. So she coaxed, threatened, even beat her daughter, but all tono purpose; the girl remained what her mother called her, "an idlecuttie. "

At last, one spring morning, the gudewife gave her seven heads of lint, saying she would take no excuse; they must be returned in three daysspun into yarn. The girl saw her mother was in earnest, so she plied herdistaff as well as she could; but her hands were all untaught, and bythe evening of the second day only a very small part of her task wasdone. She cried herself to sleep that night, and in the morning, throwing aside her work in despair, she strolled out into the fields, all sparkling with dew. At last she reached a knoll, at whose feet ran alittle burn, shaded with woodbine and wild roses; and there she satdown, burying her face in her hands. When she looked up, she wassurprised to see by the margin of the stream an old woman, quiteunknown to her, drawing out the thread as she basked in the sun. Therewas nothing very remarkable in her appearance, except the length andthickness of her lips, only she was seated on a self-bored stone. Thegirl rose, went to the good dame, and gave her a friendly greeting, butcould not help inquiring "What makes you so long lipped?"

"Spinning thread, my hinnie, " said the old woman, pleased with her. "Iwet my fingers with my lips, as I draw the thread from the distaff. "

"Ah!" said the girl, "I should be spinning too, but it's all to nopurpose. I shall ne'er do my task:" on which the old woman proposed todo it for her. Overjoyed, the maiden ran to fetch her lint, and placedit in her new friend's hand, asking where she should call for the yarnin the evening; but she received no reply; the old woman passed awayfrom her among the trees and bushes. The girl, much bewildered, wanderedabout a little, sat down to rest, and finally fell asleep by the littleknoll. 

When she awoke she was surprised to find that it was evening. Causleen, the evening star, was beaming with silvery light, soon to be lost in themoon's splendour. While watching these changes, the maiden was startledby the sound of an uncouth voice, which seemed to issue from below theself-bored stone, close beside her. She laid her ear to the stone andheard the words: "Hurry up, Scantlie Mab, for I've promised the yarn andHabetrot always keeps her promise. " Then looking down the hole saw herfriend, the old dame, walking backwards and forwards in a deep cavernamong a group of spinsters all seated on colludie stones, and busy withdistaff and spindle. An ugly company they were, with lips more or lessdisfigured, like old Habetrot's. Another of the sisterhood, who sat in adistant corner reeling the yarn, was marked, in addition, by grey eyes, which seemed starting from her head, and a long hooked nose. 

While the girl was still watching, she heard Habetrot address this dameby the name of Scantlie Mab, and say, "Bundle up the yarn, it is timethe young lassie should give it to her mother. " Delighted to hear this, the girl got up and returned homewards. Habetrot soon overtook her, andplaced the yarn in her hands. "Oh, what can I do for ye in return?"exclaimed she, in delight. "Nothing--nothing, " replied the dame; "butdinna tell your mother who spun the yarn. "

Scarcely believing her eyes, the girl went home, where she found hermother had been busy making sausters, and hanging them up in the chimneyto dry, and then, tired out, had retired to rest. Finding herself veryhungry after her long day on the knoll, the girl took down pudding afterpudding, fried and ate them, and at last went to bed too. The mother wasup first the next morning, and when she came into the kitchen and foundher sausters all gone, and the seven hanks of yarn lying beautifullysmooth and bright upon the table, she ran out of the house wildly, crying out--

 "My daughter's spun seven, seven, seven, My daughter's eaten seven, seven, seven, And all before daylight. "

A laird who chanced to be riding by, heard the exclamation, but couldnot understand it; so he rode up and asked the gudewife what was thematter, on which she broke out again--

 "My daughter's spun seven, seven, seven, My daughter's eaten seven, seven, seven

before daylight; and if ye dinna believe me, why come in and see it. "The laird, he alighted and went into the cottage, where he saw the yarn, and admired it so much he begged to see the spinner. 

The mother dragged in her girl. He vowed he was lonely without a wife, and had long been in search of one who was a good spinner. So theirtroth was plighted, and the wedding took place soon afterwards, thoughthe bride was in great fear that she should not prove so clever at herspinning-wheel as he expected. But old Dame Habetrot came to her aid. "Bring your bonny bridegroom to my cell, " said she to the young bridesoon after her marriage; "he shall see what comes o' spinning, and neverwill he tie you to the spinning-wheel. "

Accordingly the bride led her husband the next day to the flowery knoll, and bade him look through the self-bored stone. Great was his surpriseto behold Habetrot dancing and jumping over her rock, singing all thetime this ditty to her sisterhood, while they kept time with theirspindles:--

 "We who live in dreary den, Are both rank and foul to see? Hidden from the glorious sun, That teems the fair earth's canopie: Ever must our evenings lone Be spent on the colludie stone. 

 "Cheerless is the evening grey When Causleen hath died away, But ever bright and ever fair Are they who breathe this evening air, And lean upon the self-bored stone Unseen by all but me alone. "

The song ended, Scantlie Mab asked Habetrot what she meant by the lastline, "Unseen by all but we alone. "

"There is one, " replied Habetrot, "whom I bid to come here at thishour, and he has heard my song through the self-bored stone. " So sayingshe rose, opened another door, which was concealed by the roots of anold tree, and invited the pair to come in and see her family. 

The laird was astonished at the weird-looking company, as he well mightbe, and inquired of one after another the cause of their strange lips. In a different tone of voice, and with a different twist of the mouth, each answered that it was occasioned by spinning. At least they tried tosay so, but one grunted out "Nakasind, " and another "Owkasaänd, " while athird murmured "O-a-a-send. " All, however, made the bridegroomunderstand what was the cause of their ugliness; while Habetrot slilyhinted that if his wife were allowed to spin, her pretty lips would growout of shape too, and her pretty face get an ugsome look. So before heleft the cave he vowed that his little wife should never touch aspinning-wheel, and he kept his word. She used to wander in the meadowsby his side, or ride behind him over the hills, but all the flax grownon his land was sent to old Habetrot to be converted into yarn. 

Old Mother Wiggle-Waggle

 The fox and his wife they had a great strife, They never ate mustard in all their whole life; They ate their meat without fork or knife And loved to be picking a bone, e-ho!

 The fox went out, one still, clear night, And he prayed the moon to give him light, For he'd a long way to travel that night, Before he got back to his den-o!

 The fox when he came to yonder stile, He lifted his lugs and he listened a while! "Oh, ho!" said the fox, "it's but a short mile From this unto yonder wee town, e-ho!"

 And first he arrived at a farmer's yard, Where the ducks and the geese declared it was hard, That their nerves should be shaken and their rest should be marred By the visits of Mister Fox-o!

 The fox when he came to the farmer's gate, Who should he see but the farmer's drake; "I love you well for your master's sake, And long to be picking your bones, e-ho!"

 The grey goose she ran round the hay-stack, "Oh, ho!" said the fox, "you are very fat; You'll grease my beard and ride on my back From this into yonder wee town, e-ho!"

 Then he took the grey goose by her sleeve, And said: "Madam Grey Goose, by your leave I'll take you away without reprieve, And carry you back to my den-o!"

 And he seized the black duck by the neck, And slung him all across his back, The black duck cried out "quack, quack, quack, " With his legs all dangling down-o!

 Old Mother Wiggle-Waggle hopped out of bed, Out of the window she popped her old head; "Oh! husband, oh! husband, the grey goose is gone, And the fox is off to his den, oh!"

 Then the old man got up in his red cap, And swore he would catch the fox in a trap; But the fox was too cunning, and gave him the slip, And ran through the town, the town, oh!

 When he got to the top of the hill, He blew his trumpet both loud and shrill, For joy that he was safe and sound Through the town, oh!

 But at last he arrived at his home again, To his dear little foxes, eight, nine, ten, Says he "You're in luck, here's a fine fat duck With his legs all dangling down-o!"

 So he sat down together with his hungry wife, And they did very well without fork or knife, They never ate a better duck in all their life, And the little ones picked the bones-o!

Catskin

Well, there was once a gentleman who had fine lands and houses, and hevery much wanted to have a son to be heir to them. So when his wifebrought him a daughter, bonny as bonny could be, he cared nought forher, and said, "Let me never see her face. "

So she grew up a bonny girl, though her father never set eyes on hertill she was fifteen years old and was ready to be married. But herfather said, "Let her marry the first that comes for her. " And when thiswas known, who should be first but a nasty rough old man. So she didn'tknow what to do, and went to the henwife and asked her advice. Thehenwife said, "Say you will not take him unless they give you a coat ofsilver cloth. " Well, they gave her a coat of silver cloth, but shewouldn't take him for all that, but went again to the henwife, who said, "Say you will not take him unless they give you a coat of beaten gold. "Well, they gave her a coat of beaten gold, but still she would not takehim, but went to the henwife, who said, "Say you will not take himunless they give you a coat made of the feathers of all the birds ofthe air. " So they sent a man with a great heap of pease; and the mancried to all the birds of the air, "Each bird take a pea, and put downa feather. " So each bird took a pea and put down one of its feathers:and they took all the feathers and made a coat of them and gave it toher; but still she would not, but asked the henwife once again, whosaid, "Say they must first make you a coat of catskin. " So they made hera coat of catskin; and she put it on, and tied up her other coats, andran away into the woods. 

So she went along and went along and went along, till she came to theend of the wood, and saw a fine castle. So there she hid her finedresses, and went up to the castle gates, and asked for work. The ladyof the castle saw her, and told her, "I'm sorry I have no better place, but if you like you may be our scullion. " So down she went into thekitchen, and they called her Catskin, because of her dress. But the cookwas very cruel to her and led her a sad life. 

Well, it happened soon after that the young lord of the castle wascoming home, and there was to be a grand ball in honour of the occasion. And when they were speaking about it among the servants, "Dear me, Mrs. Cook, " said Catskin, "how much I should like to go. "

"What! you dirty impudent slut, " said the cook, "you go among all thefine lords and ladies with your filthy catskin? a fine figure you'dcut!" and with that she took a basin of water and dashed it intoCatskin's face. But she only briskly shook her ears, and said nothing. 

When the day of the ball arrived, Catskin slipped out of the house andwent to the edge of the forest where she had hidden her dresses. So shebathed herself in a crystal waterfall, and then put on her coat ofsilver cloth, and hastened away to the ball. As soon as she entered allwere overcome by her beauty and grace, while the young lord at once losthis heart to her. He asked her to be his partner for the first dance, and he would dance with none other the live-long night. 

When it came to parting time, the young lord said, "Pray tell me, fairmaid, where you live. " But Catskin curtsied and said:

 "Kind sir, if the truth I must tell, At the sign of the 'Basin of Water' I dwell. "

Then she flew from the castle and donned her catskin robe again, andslipped into the scullery again, unbeknown to the cook. 

The young lord went the very next day to his mother, the lady of thecastle, and declared he would wed none other but the lady of the silverdress, and would never rest till he had found her. So another ball wassoon arranged for in hope that the beautiful maid would appear again. SoCatskin said to the cook, "Oh, how I should like to go!" Whereupon thecook screamed out in a rage, "What, you, you dirty impudent slut! youwould cut a fine figure among all the fine lords and ladies. " And withthat she up with a ladle and broke it across Catskin's back. But sheonly shook her ears, and ran off to the forest, where she first of allbathed, and then put on her coat of beaten gold, and off she went to theball-room. 

As soon as she entered all eyes were upon her; and the young lord soonrecognised her as the lady of the "Basin of Water, " and claimed her handfor the first dance, and did not leave her till the last. When thatcame, he again asked her where she lived. But all that she would saywas:

 "Kind sir, if the truth I must tell, At the sign of the 'Broken Ladle' I dwell. "

and with that she curtsied, and flew from the ball, off with her goldenrobe, on with her catskin, and into the scullery without the cook'sknowing. 

Next day when the young lord could not find where was the sign of the"Basin of Water, " or of the "Broken Ladle, " he begged his mother to haveanother grand ball, so that he might meet the beautiful maid once more. 

All happened as before. Catskin told the cook how much she would like togo to the ball, the cook called her "a dirty slut, " and broke theskimmer across her head. But she only shook her ears, and went off tothe forest, where she first bathed in the crystal spring, and thendonned her coat of feathers, and so off to the ball-room. 

When she entered every one was surprised at so beautiful a face and formdressed in so rich and rare a dress; but the young lord soon recognisedhis beautiful sweetheart, and would dance with none but her the wholeevening. When the ball came to an end, he pressed her to tell him whereshe lived, but all she would answer was:

 "Kind sir, if the truth I must tell, At the sign of the 'Broken Skimmer' I dwell;"

and with that she curtsied, and was off to the forest. But this time theyoung lord followed her, and watched her change her fine dress offeathers for her catskin dress, and then he knew her for his ownscullery-maid. 

Next day he went to his mother, the lady of the castle, and told herthat he wished to marry the scullery-maid, Catskin. "Never, " said thelady, and rushed from the room. Well, the young lord was so grieved atthat, that he took to his bed and was very ill. The doctor tried to curehim, but he would not take any medicine unless from the hands ofCatskin. So the doctor went to the lady of the castle, and told her herson would die if she did not consent to his marriage with Catskin. Soshe had to give way, and summoned Catskin to her. But she put on hercoat of beaten gold, and went to the lady, who soon was glad to wed herson to so beautiful a maid. 

Well, so they were married, and after a time a dear little son came tothem, and grew up a bonny lad; and one day, when he was four years old, a beggar woman came to the door, so Lady Catskin gave some money to thelittle lord and told him to go and give it to the beggar woman. So hewent and gave it, but put it into the hand of the woman's child, wholeant forward and kissed the little lord. Now the wicked old cook--whyhadn't she been sent away?--was looking on, so she said, "Only see howbeggars' brats take to one another. " This insult went to Catskin'sheart, so she went to her husband, the young lord, and told him allabout her father, and begged he would go and find out what had become ofher parents. So they set out in the lord's grand coach, and travelledthrough the forest till they came to Catskin's father's house, and putup at an inn near, where Catskin stopped, while her husband went to seeif her father would own her. 

Now her father had never had any other child, and his wife had died; sohe was all alone in the world and sate moping and miserable. When theyoung lord came in he hardly looked up, till he saw a chair close up tohim, and asked him: "Pray, sir, had you not once a young daughter whomyou would never see or own?"

The old gentleman said: "It is true; I am a hardened sinner. But Iwould give all my worldly goods if I could but see her once before Idie. " Then the young lord told him what had happened to Catskin, andtook him to the inn, and brought his father-in-law to his own castle, where they lived happy ever afterwards. 

Stupid's Cries

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

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

Trudging along, he came to a stile; but in getting over he fell and hurthimself, and beginning to blubber, forgot what he was sent for. So hestood 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 afield 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 himto repeat:

 "Pray God send plenty more! Pray God send plenty more!"

Off the child scampered with these words in his mouth till he reached achurchyard 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 cryrang out:

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

The good folk nearly were furious, seized and struck him, charging himto 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 bemarried. "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, andordered 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 falleninto 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 keptup 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 onfire. 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 hisblack cap, and condemned him to die. 

The Lambton Worm

A wild young fellow was the heir of Lambton, the fine estate and hall bythe side of the swift-flowing Wear. Not a Mass would he hear inBrugeford Chapel of a Sunday, but a-fishing he would go. And if he didnot haul in anything, his curses could be heard by the folk as they wentby to Brugeford. 

Well, one Sunday morning he was fishing as usual, and not a salmon hadrisen to him, his basket was bare of roach or dace. And the worse hisluck, the worse grew his language, till the passers-by were horrified athis words as they went to listen to the Mass-priest. 

At last young Lambton felt a mighty tug at his line. "At last, " quothhe, "a bite worth having!" and he pulled and he pulled, till what shouldappear above the water but a head like an elf's, with nine holes on eachside of its mouth. But still he pulled till he had got the thing toland, when it turned out to be a Worm of hideous shape. If he had cursedbefore, his curses were enough to raise the hair on your head. 

"What ails thee, my son?" said a voice by his side, "and what hast thoucaught, that thou shouldst stain the Lord's Day with such foullanguage?"

Looking round, young Lambton saw a strange old man standing by him. 

"Why, truly, " he said, "I think I have caught the devil himself. Lookyou and see if you know him. "

But the stranger shook his head, and said, "It bodes no good to thee orthine to bring such a monster to shore. Yet cast him not back into theWear; thou has caught him, and thou must keep him, " and with that awayhe turned, and was seen no more. 

The young heir of Lambton took up the gruesome thing, and, taking it offhis hook, cast it into a well close by, and ever since that day thatwell has gone by the name of the Worm Well. 

For some time nothing more was seen or heard of the Worm, till one dayit had outgrown the size of the well, and came forth full-grown. So itcame forth from the well and betook itself to the Wear. And all day longit would lie coiled round a rock in the middle of the stream, while atnight it came forth from the river and harried the country side. Itsucked the cows' milk, devoured the lambs, worried the cattle, andfrightened all the women and girls of the district, and then it wouldretire for the rest of the night to the hill, still called the WormHill, on the north side of the Wear, about a mile and a half fromLambton Hall. 

This terrible visitation brought young Lambton, of Lambton Hall, to hissenses. He took upon himself the vows of the Cross, and departed for theHoly Land, in the hope that the scourge he had brought upon his districtwould disappear. But the grisly Worm took no heed, except that itcrossed the river and came right up to Lambton Hall itself where the oldlord lived on all alone, his only son having gone to the Holy Land. Whatto do? The Worm was coming closer and closer to the Hall; women wereshrieking, men were gathering weapons, dogs were barking and horsesneighing with terror. At last the steward called out to the dairy maids, "Bring all your milk hither, " and when they did so, and had brought allthe milk that the nine kye of the byre had yielded, he poured it allinto the long stone trough in front of the Hall. 

The Worm drew nearer and nearer, till at last it came up to the trough. But when it sniffed the milk, it turned aside to the trough andswallowed all the milk up, and then slowly turned round and crossed theriver Wear, and coiled its bulk three times round the Worm Hill for thenight. 

Henceforth the Worm would cross the river every day, and woe betide theHall if the trough contained the milk of less than nine kye. The Wormwould hiss, and would rave, and lash its tail round the trees of thepark, and in its fury it would uproot the stoutest oaks and the loftiestfirs. So it went on for seven years. Many tried to destroy the Worm, butall had failed, and many a knight had lost his life in fighting withthe monster, which slowly crushed the life out of all that came near it. 

At last the Childe of Lambton came home to his father's Hall, afterseven long years spent in meditation and repentance on holy soil. Sadand desolate he found his folk: the lands untilled, the farms deserted, half the trees of the park uprooted, for none would stay to tend thenine kye that the monster needed for his food each day. 

The Childe sought his father, and begged his forgiveness for the cursehe had brought on the Hall. 

"Thy sin is pardoned, " said his father; "but go thou to the Wise Womanof Brugeford, and find if aught can free us from this monster. "

To the Wise Woman went the Childe, and asked her advice. 

"'T is thy fault, O Childe, for which we suffer, " she said; "be it thineto release us. "

"I would give my life, " said the Childe. 

"Mayhap thou wilt do so, " said she. "But hear me, and mark me well. Thou, and thou alone, canst kill the Worm. But, to this end, go thou tothe smithy and have thy armour studded with spear-heads. Then go to theWorm's Rock in the Wear, and station thyself there. Then, when the Wormcomes to the Rock at dawn of day, try thy prowess on him, and God gi'ethee a good deliverance. "

"This I will do, " said Childe Lambton. 

"But one thing more, " said the Wise Woman, going back to her cell. "Ifthou slay the Worm, swear that thou wilt put to death the first thingthat meets thee as thou crossest again the threshold of Lambton Hall. Do this, and all will be well with thee and thine. Fulfil not thou vow, and none of the Lambtons, for generations three times three, shall diein his bed. Swear, and fail not. "

The Childe swore as the Wise Woman bid, and went his way to the smithy. There he had his armour studded with spear-heads all over. Then hepassed his vigils in Brugeford Chapel, and at dawn of day took his poston the Worm's Rock in the River Wear. 

As dawn broke, the Worm uncoiled its snaky twine from around the hill, and came to its rock in the river. When it perceived the Childe waitingfor it, it lashed the waters in its fury and wound its coils round theChilde, and then attempted to crush him to death. But the more itpressed, the deeper dug the spear-heads into its sides. Still it pressedand pressed, till all the water around was crimsoned with its blood. Then the Worm unwound itself, and left the Childe free to use his sword. He raised it, brought it down, and cut the Worm in two. One half fellinto the river, and was carried swiftly away. Once more the head and theremainder of the body encircled the Childe, but with less force, and thespear-heads did their work. At last the Worm uncoiled itself, snortedits last foam of blood and fire, and rolled dying into the river, andwas never seen more. 

[Illustration: The Lambton Worm]

The Childe of Lambton swam ashore, and raising his bugle to his lips, sounded its note thrice. This was the signal to the Hall, where theservants and the old lord had shut themselves in to pray for theChilde's success. When the third sound of the bugle was heard, theywere to release Boris, the Childe's favourite hound. But such was theirjoy at learning of the Childe's safety and the Worm's defeat, that theyforgot orders, and when the Childe reached the threshold of the Hall hisold father rushed out to meet him, and would have clasped him to hisbreast. 

"The vow! the vow!" cried out the Childe of Lambton, and blew stillanother blast upon his horn. This time the servants remembered, andreleased Boris, who came bounding to his young master. The Childe raisedhis shining sword, and severed the head of his faithful hound. 

But the vow was broken, and for nine generations of men none of theLambtons died in his bed. The last of the Lambtons died in his carriageas he was crossing Brugeford Bridge, one hundred and thirty years ago. 

The Wise Men of Gotham

_Of Buying of Sheep_

There were two men of Gotham, and one of them was going to market toNottingham to buy sheep, and the other came from the market, and theyboth met together upon Nottingham bridge. 

"Where are you going?" said the one who came from Nottingham. 

"Marry, " said he that was going to Nottingham, "I am going to buysheep. "

"Buy sheep?" said the other, "and which way will you bring them home?"

"Marry, " said the other, "I will bring them over this bridge. "

"By Robin Hood, " said he that came from Nottingham, "but thou shaltnot. "

"By Maid Marion, " said he that was going thither, "but I will. "

"You will not, " said the one. 

"I will. "

Then they beat their staves against the ground one against the other, asif there had been a hundred sheep between them. 

"Hold in, " said one; "beware lest my sheep leap over the bridge. "

"I care not, " said the other; "they shall not come this way. "

"But they shall, " said the other. 

Then the other said: "If that thou make much to do, I will put myfingers in thy mouth. "

"Will you?" said the other. 

Now, as they were at their contention, another man of Gotham came fromthe market with a sack of meal upon a horse, and seeing and hearing hisneighbours at strife about sheep, though there were none between them, said:

"Ah, fools! will you ever learn wisdom? Help me, and lay my sack upon myshoulders. "

They did so, and he went to the side of the bridge, unloosened the mouthof the sack, and shook all his meal out into the river. 

"Now, neighbours, " he said, "how much meal is there in my sack?"

"Marry, " said they, "there is none at all. "

"Now, by my faith, " said he, "even as much wit as is in your two headsto stir up strife about a thing you have not. "

Which was the wisest of these three persons, judge yourself. 

_Of Hedging a Cuckoo_

Once upon a time the men of Gotham would have kept the Cuckoo so thatshe might sing all the year, and in the midst of their town they made ahedge round in compass and they got a Cuckoo, and put her into it, andsaid, "Sing there all through the year, or thou shalt have neither meatnor water. " The Cuckoo, as soon as she perceived herself within thehedge, flew away. "A vengeance on her!" said they. "We did not make ourhedge high enough. "

_Of Sending Cheeses_

There was a man of Gotham who went to the market at Nottingham to sellcheese, and as he was going down the hill to Nottingham bridge, one ofhis cheeses fell out of his wallet and rolled down the hill. "Ah, gaffer, " said the fellow, "can you run to market alone? I will send oneafter another after you. "

Then he laid down his wallet and took out the cheeses, and rolled themdown the hill. Some went into one bush; and some went into another. 

"I charge you all to meet me near the market-place;" and when the fellowcame to the market to meet his cheeses, he stayed there till the marketwas nearly done. Then he went about to inquire of his friends andneighbours, and other men, if they did see his cheeses come to themarket. 

"Who should bring them?" said one of the market men. 

"Marry, themselves, " said the fellow; "they know the way well enough. "

He said, "A vengeance on them all. I did fear, to see them run so fast, that they would run beyond the market. I am now fully persuaded thatthey must be now almost at York. " Whereupon he forthwith hired a horseto ride to York, to seek his cheeses where they were not, but to thisday no man can tell him of his cheeses. 

_Of Drowning Eels_

When Good Friday came, the men of Gotham cast their heads together whatto do with their white herrings, their red herrings, their sprats, andother salt fish. One consulted with the other, and agreed that such fishshould be cast into their pond (which was in the middle of the town), that they might breed against the next year, and every man that had saltfish left cast them into the pool. 

"I have many white herrings, " said one. 

"I have many sprats, " said another. 

"I have many red herrings, " said the other. 

"I have much salt fish. Let all go into the pond or pool, and we shallfare like lords next year. "

At the beginning of next year following the men drew near the pond tohave their fish, and there was nothing but a great eel. "Ah, " said theyall, "a mischief on this eel, for he has eaten up all our fish. "

"What shall we do to him?" said one to the others. 

"Kill him, " said one. 

"Chop him into pieces, " said another. "Not so, " said another; "let usdrown him. "

"Be it so, " said all. And they went to another pond, and cast the eelinto the pond. "Lie there and shift for yourself, for no help thou shalthave from us;" and they left the eel to drown. 

_Of Sending Rent_

Once on a time the men of Gotham had forgotten to pay their landlord. One said to the other, "To-morrow is our pay-day, and what shall we findto send our money to our landlord?"

The one said, "This day I have caught a hare, and he shall carry it, forhe is light of foot. "

"Be it so, " said all; "he shall have a letter and a purse to put ourmoney in, and we shall direct him the right way. " So when the letterswere written and the money put in a purse, they tied it round thehare's neck, saying, "First you go to Lancaster, then thou must go toLoughborough, and Newarke is our landlord, and commend us to him andthere is his dues. "

The hare, as soon as he was out of their hands, ran on along the countryway. Some cried, "Thou must go to Lancaster first. "

"Let the hare alone, " said another; "he can tell a nearer way than thebest of us all. Let him go. "

Another said, "It is a subtle hare, let her alone; she will not keep thehighway for fear of dogs. "

_Of Counting_

On a certain time there were twelve men of Gotham who went fishing, andsome went into the water and some on dry ground; and, as they werecoming back, one of them said, "We have ventured much this day wading; Ipray God that none of us that did come from home be drowned. "

"Marry, " said one, "let us see about that. Twelve of us came out, " andevery man did count eleven, and the twelfth man did never count himself. 

"Alas!" said one to another, "one of us is drowned. " They went back tothe brook where they had been fishing, and looked up and down for himthat was drowned, and made great lamentation. A courtier came ridingby, and he did ask what they were seeking, and why they were sosorrowful. "Oh, " said they, "this day we came to fish in this brook, andthere were twelve of us, and one is drowned. "

"Why, " said the courtier, "count me how many of you there be, " and onecounted eleven and did not count himself. "Well, " said the courtier, "what will you give me if I find the twelfth man?"

"Sir, " said they, "all the money we have. "

"Give me the money, " said the courtier; and he began with the first, andgave him a whack over the shoulders that he groaned, and said, "There isone, " and he served all of them that they groaned; but when he came tothe last he gave him a good blow, saying, "Here is the twelfth man. "

"God bless you on your heart, " said all the company; "you have found ourneighbour. "

Princess of Canterbury

There lived formerly in the County of Cumberland a nobleman who hadthree sons, two of whom were comely and clever youths, but the other anatural fool, named Jack, who was generally engaged with the sheep: hewas dressed in a parti-coloured coat, and a steeple-crowned hat with atassel, as became his condition. Now the King of Canterbury had abeautiful daughter, who was distinguished by her great ingenuity andwit, and he issued a decree that whoever should answer three questionsput to him by the princess should have her in marriage, and be heir tothe crown at his decease. Shortly after this decree was published, newsof it reached the ears of the nobleman's sons, and the two clever onesdetermined to have a trial, but they were sadly at a loss to preventtheir idiot brother from going with them. They could not, by any means, get rid of him, and were compelled at length to let Jack accompany them. They had not gone far, before Jack shrieked with laughter, saying, "I'vefound an egg. " "Put it in your pocket, " said the brothers. A littlewhile afterwards, he burst out into another fit of laughter on finding acrooked hazel stick, which he also put in his pocket; and a third timehe again laughed extravagantly because he found a nut. That also was putwith his other treasures. 

When they arrived at the palace, they were immediately admitted onmentioning the nature of their business, and were ushered into a roomwhere the princess and her suite were sitting. Jack, who never stood onceremony, bawled out, "What a troop of fair ladies we've got here!"

"Yes, " said the princess, "we are fair ladies, for we carry fire in ourbosoms. "

"Do you?" said Jack, "then roast me an egg, " pulling out the egg fromhis pocket. 

"How will you get it out again?" said the princess. 

"With a crooked stick, " replied Jack, producing the hazel. 

"Where did that come from?" said the princess. 

"From a nut, " answered Jack, pulling out the nut from his pocket. "I'veanswered the three questions, and now I'll have the lady. " "No, no, "said the king, "not so fast. You have still an ordeal to go through. Youmust come here in a week's time and watch for one whole night with theprincess, my daughter. If you can manage to keep awake the whole nightlong you shall marry her next day. "

"But if I can't?" said Jack. 

"Then off goes your head, " said the king. "But you need not try unlessyou like. "

Well, Jack went back home for a week, and thought over whether he shouldtry and win the princess. At last he made up his mind. "Well, " saidJack, "I'll try my vorton; zo now vor the king's daughter, or aheadless shepherd!"

And taking his bottle and bag, he trudged to the court. In his waythither, he was obliged to cross a river, and pulling off his shoes andstockings, while he was passing over he observed several pretty fishbobbing against his feet; so he caught some and put them into hispocket. When he reached the palace he knocked at the gate loudly withhis crook, and having mentioned the object of his visit, he wasimmediately conducted to the hall where the king's daughter sat readyprepared to see her lovers. He was placed in a luxurious chair, and richwines and spices were set before him, and all sorts of delicate meats. Jack, unused to such fare, ate and drank plentifully, so that he wasnearly dozing before midnight. 

"Oh, shepherd, " said the lady, "I have caught you napping!"

"Noa, sweet ally, I was busy a-feeshing. "

"A fishing, " said the princess in the utmost astonishment: "Nay, shepherd, there is no fish-pond in the hall. "

"No matter vor that, I have been fishing in my pocket, and have justcaught one. "

"Oh me!" said she, "let me see it. "

The shepherd slyly drew the fish out of his pocket and pretending tohave caught it, showed it her, and she declared it was the finest sheever saw. 

About half an hour afterwards, she said, "Shepherd, do you think youcould get me one more?"

He replied, "Mayhap I may, when I have baited my hook;" and after alittle while he brought out another, which was finer than the first, andthe princess was so delighted that she gave him leave to go to sleep, and promised to excuse him to her father. 

In the morning the princess told the king, to his great astonishment, that Jack must not be beheaded, for he had been fishing in the hall allnight; but when he heard how Jack had caught such beautiful fish out ofhis pocket, he asked him to catch one in his own. 

Jack readily undertook the task, and bidding the king lie down, hepretended to fish in his pocket, having another fish concealed ready inhis hand, and giving him a sly prick with a needle, he held up the fish, and showed it to the king. 

His majesty did not much relish the operation, but he assented to themarvel of it, and the princess and Jack were united the same day, andlived for many years in happiness and prosperity. 

[Illustration:OYEZ OYEZ OYEZTHE ENGLISH FAIRY TALESARE NOW CLOSEDLITTLE BOYS AND GIRLSMUST NOT READ ANY FURTHER]

Notes and References

For some general remarks on the English Folk-Tale and previouscollectors, I must refer to the introductory observations added to theNotes and References of _English Fairy Tales_, in the third edition. With the present instalment the tale of English Fairy Stories that arelikely to obtain currency among the young folk is complete. I do notknow of more than half-a-dozen "outsiders" that deserve to rank withthose included in my two volumes which, for the present, at any rate, must serve as the best substitute that can be offered for an EnglishGrimm. I do not despair of the future. After what Miss Fison (who, as Ihave recently learned, was the collector of _Tom Tit Tot_ and _Cap o'Rushes_), Mrs. Balfour, and Mrs. Gomme have done in the way ofcollecting among the folk, we may still hope for substantial additionsto our stock to be garnered by ladies from the less frequented portionsof English soil. And from the United States we have every reason toexpect a rich harvest to be gathered by Mr. W. W. Newell, who iscollecting the English folk-tales that still remain current in NewEngland. If his forthcoming book equals in charm, scholarship, andthoroughness his delightful _Games and Songs of American Children_, theAnglo-American folk-tale will be enriched indeed. A further examinationof English nursery rhymes may result in some additions to our stock. Ireserve these for separate treatment in which I am especiallyinterested, owing to the relations which I surmise between the folk-taleand the _cante-fable_. 

Meanwhile the eighty-seven tales (representing some hundred and twentyvariants) in my two volumes must represent the English folk-tale as faras my diligence has been able to preserve it at this end of thenineteenth century. There is every indication that they form but ascanty survival of the whole _corpus_ of such tales which must haveexisted in this country. Of the seventy European story-radicles which Ihave enumerated in the Folk-Lore Society's _Handbook_, pp. 117-35, onlyforty are represented in our collection: I have little doubt that themajority of the remaining thirty or so also existed in these isles, andespecially in England. If I had reckoned in the tales current in theEnglish pale of Ireland, as well as those in Lowland Scots, there wouldhave been even less missing. The result of my investigations confirms mein my impression that the scope of the English folk-tale should includeall those current among the folk in English, no matter where spoken, inIreland, the Lowlands, New England, or Australia. Wherever there iscommunity of language, tales can spread, and it is more likely thattales should be preserved in those parts where English is spoken withmost of dialect. Just as the Anglo-Irish Pale preserves more of thepronunciation of Shakespeare's time, so it is probable that Anglo-Irishstories preserve best those current in Shakespeare's time in English. Onthe other hand, it is possible that some, nay many, of the Anglo-Irishstories have been imported from the Celtic districts, and are positivelyfolk-translations from the Gaelic. Further research is required todetermine which is English and which Celtic among Anglo-Irishfolk-tales. Meanwhile my collection must stand for the nucleus of theEnglish folk-tale, and we can at any rate judge of its general spiritand tendencies from the eighty-seven tales now before the reader. 

Of these, thirty-eight are _märchen_ proper, _i. E. _, tales with definiteplot and evolution; ten are sagas or legends locating romantic storiesin definite localities; no less than nineteen are drolls or comicanecdotes; four are cumulative stories: six beast tales; while ten aremerely ingenious nonsense tales put together in such a form as to amusechildren. The preponderance of the comic element is marked, and it isclear that humour is a characteristic of the English _folk_. The legendsare not of a very romantic kind, and the _märchen_ are often humorous incharacter. So that a certain air of unromance is given by such acollection as that we are here considering. The English folk-muse wearshomespun and plods afoot, albeit with a cheerful smile and a steadygaze. 

Some of this effect is produced by the manner in which the tales aretold. The colloquial manner rarely rises to the dignified, and theessence of the folk-tale manner in English is colloquial. The openingformulæ are varied enough, but none of them has much play of fancy. "Once upon a time and a very good time it was, though it wasn't in mytime nor in your time nor in any one else's time, " is effective enoughfor a fairy epoch, and is common, according to Mayhew (_London Labour_. Iii. ), among tramps. We have the rhyming formula:

 Once upon a time when pigs spoke rhyme, And monkeys chewed tobacco, And hens took snuff to make them tough, And ducks went quack, quack, quack Oh!

on which I have variants not so refined. Some stories start off withoutany preliminary formula, or with a simple "Well, there was once a ----". A Scotch formula reported by Mrs. Balfour runs, "Once on a time when a'muckle folk were wee and a' lees were true, " while Mr. Lang gives us"There was a king and a queen as mony ane's been, few have we seen andas few may we see. " Endings of stories are even less varied. "So theymarried and lived happy ever afterwards, " comes from folk-tales, notfrom novels. "All went well that didn't go ill, " is a somewhat cynicalformula given by Mrs. Balfour, while the Scotch have "they lived happyand died happy, and never drank out of a dry cappie. "

In the course of the tale the chief thing to be noticed is theoccurrence of rhymes in the prose narrative, tending to give theappearance of a _cante-fable_. I have enumerated those occurring in_English Fairy Tales_ in the notes to _Childe Rowland_ (No. Xxi. ). Inthe present volume, rhyme occurs in Nos. Xlvi. , xlviii. , xlix. , lviii. , lx. , lxiii. (see Note), lxiv. , lxxiv. , lxxxi. , lxxxv. , while lv. , lxix. , lxxiii. , lxxvi. , lxxxiii. , lxxxiv. , are either in verse themselves orderived from verse versions. Altogether one third of our collectiongives evidence in favour of the _cante-fable_ theory which I adduced inmy notes to _Childe Rowland_. Another point of interest in Englishfolk-narrative is the repetition of verbs of motion, "So he went alongand went along and went along. " Still more curious is a frequent changeof tense from the English present to the past. "So he gets up and wentalong. " All this helps to give the colloquial and familiar air to theEnglish fairy-tale not to mention the dialectal and archaic words andphrases which occur in them. 

But their very familiarity and colloquialism make them remarkablyeffective with English-speaking little ones. The rhythmical phrasesstick in their memories; they can remember the exact phraseology of theEnglish tales much better, I find, than that of the Grimms' tales, oreven of the Celtic stories. They certainly have the quality of cominghome to English children. Perhaps this may be partly due to the factthat a larger proportion of the tales are of native manufacture. If theresearches contained in my Notes are to be trusted only i. -ix. , xi. , xvii. , xxii. , xxv. , xxvi. , xxvii. , xliv. , l. , liv. , lv. , lviii. , lxi. , lxii. , lxv. , lxvii. , lxxviii. , lxxxiv. , lxxxvii. Were imported; nearlyall the remaining sixty are home produce, and have their roots in thehearts of the English people which naturally respond to them. 

In the following Notes, I have continued my practice of giving (1)_Source_ where I obtained the various tales. (2) _Parallels_, so far aspossible, in full for the British Isles, with bibliographical referenceswhen they can be found; for occurrences abroad I generally refer to thelist of incidents contained in my paper read before the InternationalFolk-Lore Congress of 1891 and republished in the _Transactions_, 1892, pp. 87-98. (3) _Remarks_ where the tale seems to need them. I havemainly been on the search for signs of diffusion rather than of"survivals" of antiquarian interest, though I trust it will be found Ihave not neglected these. 

XLIV. THE PIED PIPER

_Source. _--Abraham Elder, _Tales and Legends of the Isle of Wight_(London, 1839), pp. 157-164. Mr. Nutt, who has abridged and partlyrewritten the story from a copy of Elder's book in his possession, hasintroduced a couple of touches from Browning. 

_Parallels. _--The well-known story of the Pied Piper of Hameln(Hamelin), immortalised by Browning, will at once recur to everyreader's mind. Before Browning, it had been told in English in books aswell known as Verstegan's _Restitution of Decayed Intelligence_, 1605;Howell's _Familiar Letters_ (see my edition, p. 357, _n. _); and Wanley's_Wonders of the Little World_. Browning is said to have taken it fromthe last source (Furnivall, _Browning Bibliography_, 158), though thereare touches which seem to me to come from Howell (see my note _adloc. _), while it is not impossible he may have come across Elder's book, which was illustrated by Cruikshank. The Grimms give the legend in their_Deutsche Sagen_ (ed. 1816, 330-33), and in its native land it has givenrise to an elaborate poem _à la_ Scheffel by Julius Wolff, which has inits turn been the occasion of an opera by Victor Nessler. Mrs. Gutch, inan interesting study of the myth in _Folk-Lore_ iii. , pp. 227-52, quotesa poem, _The Sea Piece_, published by Dr. Kirkpatrick in 1750, asshowing that a similar legend was told of the Cave Hill, Belfast. 

 Here, as Tradition's hoary legend tells, A blinking Piper once with magic Spells And strains beyond a vulgar Bagpipe's sounds Gathered the dancing Country wide around. When hither as he drew the tripping Rear (Dreadful to think and difficult to swear!) The gaping Mountain yawned from side to side, A hideous Cavern, darksome, deep, and wide; In skipt th' exulting Demon, piping loud, With passive joy succeeded by the Crowd. 

 * * * * *

 There firm and instant closed the greedy Womb, Where wide-born Thousands met a common Tomb. 

_Remarks. _--Mr. Baring-Gould, in his _Curious Myths of the Middle Ages_, has explained the Pied Piper as a wind myth. Mrs. Gutch is inclined tothink there may be a substratum of fact at the root of the legend, basing her conclusions on a pamphlet of Dr. Meinardus, _Der historischeKern_, which I have not seen. She does not, however, give anywell-authenticated historical event at Hameln in the thirteenth centurywhich could have plausibly given rise to the legend, nor can I find anyin the _Urkundenbuch_ of Hameln (Luneberg, 1883). The chief question ofinterest attaching to the English form of the legend as given in 1839 byElder, is whether it is independent of the German myth. It does notoccur in any of the local histories of the Isle of Wight which I havebeen able to consult of a date previous to Elder's book--_e. G. _, J. Hassel, _Tour of the Isle of Wight_, 1790. Mr. Shore, in his _History ofHampshire_, 1891, p. 185, refers to the legend, but evidently bases hisreference on Elder, and so with all the modern references I have seen. Now Elder himself quotes Verstegan in his comments on the legend, pp. 168-9 and note, and it is impossible to avoid conjecturing that headapted Verstegan to the locality. Newtown, when Hassel visited it in1790, had only six or seven houses (_l. C. _, i. , 137-8), though it hadthe privilege of returning two members to Parliament; it had been apopulous town by the name of Franchville before the French invasion ofthe island of _temp. _ Ric. II. It is just possible that there may havebeen a local legend to account for the depopulation by an exodus of thechildren. But the expression "pied piper" which Elder used clearly camefrom Verstegan, and until evidence is shown to the contrary the wholeof the legend was adapted from him. It is not without significance thatElder was writing in the days of the _Ingoldsby Legends_, and hadpossibly no more foundation for the localisation of his stories thanBarham. 

There still remains the curious parallel from Belfast to which Mrs. Gutch has drawn attention. Magic pipers are not unknown to Englishfolk-lore, as in the Percy ballad of _The Frere and the Boy_, or in thenursery rhyme of Tom the Piper's son in its more extended form. Butbeguiling into a mountain is not known elsewhere except at Hameln, whichwas made widely known in England by Verstegan's and Howell's accounts, so that the Belfast variant is also probably to be traced to the_Rattenfänger_. Here again, as in the case of Beddgellert (_Celtic FairyTales_, No. Xxi. ), the Blinded Giant and the Pedlar of Swaffham(_infra_, Nos. Lxi. , lxiii. ), we have an imported legend adapted tolocal conditions. 

XLV. HEREAFTERTHIS

_Source. _--Sent me anonymously soon after the appearance of _EnglishFairy Tales_. From a gloss in the MS. "vitty" = Devonian for "decent, " Iconclude the tale is current in Devon. I should be obliged if the senderwould communicate with me. 

_Parallels. _--The latter part has a certain similarity with "JackHannaford" (No. Viii. ). Halliwell's story of the miser who kept hismoney "for luck" (p. 153) is of the same type. Halliwell remarks thatthe tale throws light on a passage in Ben Jonson:

 Say we are robbed, If any come to borrow a spoon or so I will not have Good Fortune or God's Blessing Let in, while I am busy. 

The earlier part of the tale has resemblance with "Lazy Jack" (No. Xxvii), the European variants of which are given by M. Cosquin, _Contesde Lorraine_, i. , 241. Jan's satisfaction with his wife's blunders isalso European (Cosquin, _l. C. _, i. , 157). On minding the door anddispersing robbers by its aid see "Mr. Vinegar" (No. Vi. ). 

_Remarks. _--"Hereafterthis" is thus a _mélange_ of droll incidents, yethas characteristic folkish touches ("can you milk-y, bake-y, " "when Ilived home") which give it much vivacity. 

XLVI. THE GOLDEN BALL

_Source. _--Contributed to the first edition of Henderson's _Folk-Lore ofthe Northern Counties_, pp. 333-5, by Rev. S. Baring-Gould. 

_Parallels. _--Mr. Nutt gave a version in _Folk-Lore Journal_, vi. , 144. The man in instalments occurs in "The Strange Visitor" (No. Xxxii. ). Thelatter part of the tale has been turned into a game for Englishchildren, "Mary Brown, " given in Miss Plunket's _Merry Games_, but notincluded in Newell, _Games and Songs of American Children_. 

_Remarks. _--This story is especially interesting as having given rise toa game. Capture and imprisonment are frequently the gruesome _motif_ ofchildren's games, as in "Prisoner's base. " Here it has been used withromantic effect. 

XLVII. MY OWN SELF

_Source. _--Told to Mrs. Balfour by Mrs. W. , a native of NorthSunderland, who had seen the cottage and heard the tale from persons whohad known the widow and her boy, and had got the story direct from them. The title was "Me A'an Sel', " which I have altered to "My Own Self. "

_Parallels. _--Notwithstanding Mrs. Balfour's informant, the same tale iswidely spread in the North Country. Hugh Miller relates it, in his_Scenes from my Childhood_, as "Ainsel"; it is given in Mr. Hartland's_English Folk and Fairy Tales_; Mr. F. B. Jevons has heard it in theneighbourhood of Durham; while a further version appeared in _MonthlyChronicle of North Country Folk-Lore_. Further parallels abroad areenumerated by Mr. Clouston in his _Book of Noodles_, pp. 184-5, and bythe late Prof. Köhler in _Orient und Occident_, ii. , 331. The expedientby which Ulysses outwits Polyphemus in the Odyssey by calling himself[Greek: outis] is clearly of the same order. 

_Remarks. _--The parallel with the Odyssey suggests the possibility thatthis is the ultimate source of the legend, as other parts of the epichave been adapted to local requirements in Great Britain, as in the"Blinded Giant" (No. Lxi. ), or "Conall Yellowclaw" (_Celtic FairyTales_, No. V. ). The fact of Continental parallels disposes of thepossibility of its being a merely local legend. The fairies might appearto be in a somewhat novel guise here as something to be afraid of. Butthis is the usual attitude of the folk towards the "Good People, " asindeed their euphemistic name really implies. 

XLVIII. THE BLACK BULL OF NORROWAY

_Source. _--Chambers's _Popular Rhymes of Scotland_, much Anglicised inlanguage, but otherwise unaltered. 

_Parallels. _--Chambers, _l. C. _, gave a variant with the title "The RedBull o' Norroway. " Kennedy, _Legendary Fictions_, p. 87, gives a variantwith the title "The Brown Bear of Norway. " Mr. Stewart gave a Leitrimversion, in which "Norroway" becomes "Orange, " in _Folk-Lore_ for June, 1893, which Miss Peacock follows up with a Lincolnshire parallel(showing the same corruption of name) in the September number. Areference to the "Black Bull o' Norroway" occurs in Sidney's _Arcadia_, as also in the _Complaynt of Scotland_, 1548. The "sale of bed" incidentat the end has been bibliographised by Miss Cox in her volume ofvariants of _Cinderella_, p. 481. It probably existed in one of theversions of _Nix Nought Nothing_ (No. Vii. ). 

_Remarks. _--The Black Bull is clearly a Beast who ultimately wins aBeauty. But the tale as is told is clearly not sufficiently motivated. Miss Peacock's version renders it likely that a fuller account may yetbe recovered in England. 

XLIX. YALLERY BROWN

_Source. _--Mrs. Balfour's "Legends of the Lincolnshire Fens, " in_Folk-Lore_, ii. It was told to Mrs. Balfour by a labourer, whoprofessed to be the hero of the story, and related it in the firstperson. I have given him a name, and changed the narration into theoblique narration, and toned down the dialect. 

_Parallels. _--"Tiddy Mun, " the hero of another of Mrs. Balfour's legends(_l. C. _, p. 151) was "none bigger 'n a three years old bairn, " and hadno proper name. 

_Remarks. _--One might almost suspect Mrs. Balfour of being the victim ofa piece of invention on the part of her autobiographical informant. Butthe scrap of verse, especially in its original dialect, has such afolkish ring that it is probable he was only adapting a local legend tohis own circumstances. 

L. THE THREE FEATHERS

_Source. _--Collected by Mrs. Gomme from some hop-pickers near Deptford. 

_Parallels. _--The beginning is _à la_ Cupid and Psyche, on which Mr. Lang's monograph in the Carabas series is the classic authority. Theremainder is an Eastern tale, the peregrinations of which have beenstudied by Mr. Clouston in his _Pop. Tales and Fictions_, ii. , 289, _seq. _ _The Wright's Chaste Wife_ is the English _fabliau_ on thesubject. M. Bédier, in his recent work on _Les Fabliaux_, pp. 411-13, denies the Eastern origin of the _fabliau_, but in his Indiaphobia M. Bédier is _capable de tout_. In the Indian version the variousmessengers are sent by the king to test the chastity of a peerless wifeof whom he has heard. The incident occurs in some versions of the"Battle of the Birds" story (_Celtic Fairy Tales_, No. Xxiv. ), andconsidering the wide spread of this in the British Isles, it waspossibly from this source that it came to Deptford. 

LI. SIR GAMMER VANS

_Source. _--Halliwell's _Nursery Rhymes and Tales. _

_Parallels. _--There is a Yorkshire Lying Tale in Henderson's_Folk-Lore_, first edition, p. 337, a Suffolk one, "Happy Borz'l, " in_Suffolk Notes and Queries_, while a similar jingle of inconsequentabsurdities, commencing "So he died, and she unluckily married thebarber, and a great bear coming up the street popped his head into thewindow, saying, 'Do you sell any soap'?" is said to have been inventedby Charles James Fox to test Sheridan's memory, who repeated it afterone hearing. (Others attribute it to Foote. ) Similar _Lugenmärchen_ aregiven by the Grimms, and discussed by them in their Notes, Mrs. Hunt'stranslation, ii. , pp. 424, 435, 442, 450, 452, _cf. _ Crane, _Ital. Pop. Tales_, p. 263. 

_Remarks. _--The reference to venison warrants, and bows and arrows seemsto argue considerable antiquity for this piece of nonsense. Thehonorific prefix "Sir" may in that case refer to clerkly qualitiesrather than to knighthood. 

LII. TOM HICKATHRIFT

_Source. _--From the Chap-book, _c. _ 1660, in the Pepysian Library, edited for the Villon Society by Mr. G. L. Gomme. Mr. Nutt, who kindlyabridged it for me, writes, "Nothing in the shape of incident has beenomitted, and there has been no rewriting beyond a phrase here and thererendered necessary by the process of abridgment. But I have in one casealtered the sequence of events putting the fight with the giant last. "

_Parallels. _--There are similar adventures of giants in Hunt's Cornish_Drolls_. Sir Francis Palgrave (_Quart. Rev. _, vol. Xxi. ), and afterhim, Mr. Gomme, have drawn attention to certain similarities with theGrettir Saga, but they do not extend beyond general resemblances ofgreat strength. Mr. Gomme, however, adds that the cartwheel "plays a notunimportant part in English folk-lore as a representative of old runicfaith" (Villon Soc. Edition, p. Xv. ). 

_Remarks. _--Mr. Gomme, in his interesting Introduction, points outseveral indications of considerable antiquity for the legend, variousexpressions in the Pepysian Chap-book ("in the marsh of the Isle ofEly, " "good ground"), indicating that it could trace back to thesixteenth century. On the other hand, there is evidence of localtradition persisting from that time onward till the present day (Weaver, _Funerall Monuments_, 1631, pp. 866-7; Spelman, _Icenia_, 1640, p. 138;Dugdale, _Imbanking_, 1662 (ed. 1772, p. 244); Blomefield, _Norfolk_, 1808, ix. , pp. 79, 80). These refer to a sepulchral monument in Tylneychurchyard which had figured on a stone coffin an axle-tree andcart-wheel. The name in these versions of the legend is given asHickifric, and he is there represented as a village Hampden whowithstood the tyranny of the local lord of the manor. Mr. Gomme isinclined to believe, I understand him, that there is a certain amount ofevidence for Tom Hickathrift being a historic personality round whomsome of the Scandinavian mythical exploits have gathered. I must referto his admirable Introduction for the ingenious line of reasoning onwhich he bases these conclusions. Under any circumstances no Englishchild's library of folk-tales can be considered complete that does notpresent a version of Mr. Hickathrift's exploits. 

LIII. THE HEDLEY KOW

_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 knownwhen young: she had herself seen the Hedley Kow twice, once as a donkeyand once as a wisp of straw. "Kow" must not be confounded with the moreprosaic 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 theform of a truss of straw, which she would be sure to take up and carryaway. Then it would become so heavy that she would have to lay herburden down, on which the straw would become 'quick, ' rise upright andshuffle away before her, till at last it vanished from her sight with alaugh and shout. " Some of Robin Goodfellow's pranks are similar to thoseof the Hedley Kow. The old woman's content with the changes is similarto that of "Mr. Vinegar. " An ascending scale of changes has been studiedby Prof. Crane, _Italian Popular Tales_, p. 373. 

LIV. GOBBORN SEER

_Source. _--Collected by Mrs. Gomme from an old woman at Deptford. It isto be remarked that "Gobborn Seer" is Irish (Goban Saor = freecarpenter), and is the Irish equivalent of Wayland Smith, and occurs inseveral place names in Ireland. 

_Parallels. _--The essence of the tale occurs in Kennedy, _l. C. _, p. 67, _seq. _ Gobborn Seer's daughter was clearly the clever lass who is foundin all parts of the Indo-European world. An instance in my _Indian FairyTales_, "Why the Fish Laughed" (No. Xxiv. ). She has been made a specialstudy by Prof. Child, _English and Scotch Ballads_, i. , 485, while anelaborate monograph by Prof. Benfey under the title "Die Kluge Dirne"(reprinted in his _Kleine Schriften_, ii. , 156, _seq. _), formed theoccasion for his first presentation of his now well-known hypothesis ofthe derivation of all folk-tales from India. 

_Remarks. _--But for the accident of the title being preserved therewould have been nothing to show that this tale had been imported intoEngland from Ireland, whither it had probably been carried all the wayfrom India. 

LV. LAWKAMERCYME

_Source. _--Halliwell, _Nursery Rhymes_. 

_Parallels. _--It is possible that this is an Eastern "sell": it occursat any rate as the first episode in Fitzgerald's translation of Jami's_Salámán and Absál_. Jami, _ob. _ 1492, introduces the story toillustrate the perplexities of the problem of individuality in apantheistic system. 

 Lest, like the simple Arab in the tale, I grow perplext, O God! 'twixt ME and THEE, If I--this Spirit that inspires me whence? If THOU--then what this sensual impotence?

In other words, M. Bourget's _Cruelle Enigme_. The Arab yokel coming toBagdad is fearful of losing his identity, and ties a pumpkin to his legbefore going to sleep. His companion transfers it to his own leg. Theyokel awaking is perplexed like the pantheist. 

 If I--the pumpkin why on YOU? If YOU--then where am I, and WHO?

LVI. TATTERCOATS

_Source. _--Told to Mrs. Balfour by a little girl named Sally Brown, whenshe lived in the Cars in Lincolnshire. Sally had got it from her mother, who worked for Mrs. Balfour. It was originally told in dialect, whichMrs. Balfour has omitted. 

_Parallels. _--Miss Cox has included "Tattercoats" in her exhaustivecollection of parallels of _Cinderella_ (Folk-Lore Society Publications, 1892), No. 274 from the MS. Which I had lent her. Miss Cox rightlyclasses it as "Indeterminate, " and it has only the _Menial Heroine_ and_Happy Marriage_ episodes in common with stories of the Cinderella type. 

_Remarks. _--_Tattercoats_ is of interest chiefly as being without any"fairy" or supernatural elements, unless the magic pipe can be soconsidered; it certainly gives the tale a fairy-like element. It ispractically a prose variant of _King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid_, andis thus an instance of the folk-novel pure and simple, without anyadmixture of those unnatural incidents which transform the folk-novelinto the serious folk-tale as we are accustomed to have it. Which is theprior, folk-novel or tale, it would be hard to say. 

LVII. THE WEE BANNOCK

_Source. _--Chambers's _Popular Rhymes of Scotland_. I have attempted animpossibility, I fear, in trying to anglicise, but the fun of theoriginal tempted me. There still remain several technical trade termsrequiring elucidation. I owe the following to the kindness of the Rev. Mr. Todd Martin, of Belfast. _Lawtrod_ = lap board on which the tailorirons; _tow cards_, the comb with which tow is carded; the _clove_, aheavy wooden knife for breaking up the flax. _Heckling_ is combing itwith a _heckle_ or wooden comb; _binnings_ are halters for cattle madeof _sprit_ or rushes. _Spurtle_ = spoon; _whins_ = gorse. 

_Parallels. _--This is clearly a variant of _Johnny-cake_ = journey-cake, No. Xxviii. , where see Notes. 

_Remarks. _--But here the interest is with the pursuers rather than withthe pursued. The subtle characterisation of the various occupationsreaches a high level of artistic merit. Mr. Barrie himself couldscarcely have succeeded better in a very difficult task. 

LVIII. JOHNNY GLOKE

_Source. _--Contributed by Mr. W. Gregor to _Folk-Lore Journal_, vii. Ihave rechristened "Johnny Glaik" for the sake of the rhyme, andanglicised the few Scotticisms. 

_Parallels. _--This is clearly _The Valiant Tailor_ of the Grimms: "_x_at a blow" has been bibliographised. (See my List of Incidents in Trans. Folk-Lore Congress, 1892, _sub voce. _)

_Remarks. _--How _The Valiant Tailor_ got to Aberdeen one cannot tell, though the resemblance is close enough to suggest a direct "lifting"from some English version of Grimm's _Goblins_. At the same time it mustbe remembered that _Jack the Giant Killer_ (see Notes on No. Xix. )contains some of the incidents of _The Valiant Tailor_. 

LIX. COAT O CLAY

_Source. _--Contributed by Mrs. Balfour originally to _Longman'sMagazine_, and thence to _Folk-Lore_, Sept. , 1890. 

_Remarks. _--A rustic apologue, which is scarcely more than a prolongedpun on "Coat o' Clay. " Mrs. Balfour's telling redeems it from the usualdulness of folk-tales with a moral or a double meaning. 

LX. THE THREE COWS

_Source. _--Contributed to Henderson, _l. C. _, pp. 321-2, by the Rev. S. Baring-Gould. 

_Parallels. _--The incident "Bones together" occurs in _Rushen Coatie_(_infra_, No. Lxx. ), and has been discussed by the Grimms, i. , 399, andby Prof. Köhler, _Or. Und Occ. _, ii. , 680. 

LXI. THE BLINDED GIANT

_Source. _--Henderson's _Folk-Lore of Northern Counties_. See also_Folk-Lore_. 

_Parallels. _--Polyphemus in the Odyssey and the Celtic parallels in_Celtic Fairy Tales_, No. V. , "Conall Yellowclaw. " The same incidentoccurs in one of Sindbad's voyages. 

_Remarks. _--Here we have another instance of the localisation of awell-known myth. There can be little doubt that the version isultimately to be traced back to the Odyssey. The one-eyed giant, thebarred door, the escape through the blinded giant's legs in the skin ofa slaughtered animal, are a series of incidents that could not havearisen independently and casually. Yet till lately the mill stood toprove if the narrator lied, and every circumstance of localparticularity seemed to vouch for the autochthonous character of themyth. The incident is an instructive one, and I have therefore includedit in this volume, though it is little more than an anecdote in itspresent shape. 

LXII. SCRAPEFOOT

_Source. _--Collected by Mr. Batten from Mrs. H. , who heard it from hermother over forty years ago. 

_Parallels. _--It is clearly a variant of Southey's _Three Bears_ (No. Xviii. ). 

_Remarks. _--This remarkable variant raises the question whether Southeydid anything more than transform Scrapefoot into his naughty old woman, who in her turn has been transformed by popular tradition into thenaughty girl Silver-hair. Mr. Nutt ingeniously suggests that Southeyheard the story told of an old vixen, and mistook the rustic name of afemale fox for the metaphorical application to women of fox-like temper. Mrs. H. 's version to my mind has all the marks of priority. It isthroughout an animal tale, the touch at the end of the shaking the pawsand the name Scrapefoot are too _volkstümlich_ to have been consciousvariations on Southey's tale. In introducing the story in his _Doctor_, the poet laureate did not claim to do more than repeat a popular tale. Ithink that there can be little doubt that in Mrs. H. 's version we havenow recovered this in its original form. If this is so, we may here haveone more incident of the great Northern beast epic of bear and fox, onwhich Prof. Krohn has written an instructive monograph, _Bär (Wolf. ) undFuchs_ (Helsingfors, 1889). 

LXIII. THE PEDLAR OF SWAFFHAM

_Source. _--_Diary of Abraham de la Pryme_ (Surtees Soc. ) under date 10thNovember, 1699, but rewritten by Mr. Nutt, who has retained the fewcharacteristic seventeenth century touches of Pryme's dull andcolourless narration. There is a somewhat fuller account in Blomefield's_History of Norfolk_, vi. , 211-13, from Twysden's _Reminiscences_, ed. Hearne, p. 299, in this there is a double treasure; the first in an ironpot with a Latin inscription, which the pedlar, whose name is JohnChapman, does not understand. Inquiring its meaning from a learnedfriend, he is told--

 Under me doth lie Another much richer than I. 

He accordingly digs deeper and finds another pot of gold. 

_Parallels. _--Blomefield refers to Fungerus, _EtymologicumLatino-Græcum_, pp. 1110-11, where the same story is told of a peasantof Dort, in Holland, who was similarly directed to go to Kempen Bridge. Prof. E. B. Cowell, who gives the passage from Fungerus in a specialpaper on the subject in the _Journal of Philology_, vi. , 189-95, pointsout that the same story occurs in the _Masnávi_ of the Persian portJalaluddin, whose _floruit_ is 1260 A. D. Here a young spendthrift ofBagdad is warned in a dream to repair to Cairo, with the usual result ofbeing referred back. 

_Remarks. _--The artificial character of the incident is sufficient toprevent its having occurred in reality or to more than one inventiveimagination. It must therefore have been brought to Europe from the Eastand adapted to local conditions at Dort and Swaffham. Prof. Cowellsuggests that it was possibly adapted at the latter place to account forthe effigy of the pedlar and his dog. 

LXIV. THE OLD WITCH

_Source. _--Collected by Mrs. Gomme at Deptford. 

_Parallels. _--I have a dim memory of hearing a similar tale in Australiain 1860. It is clearly parallel with the Grimms' _Frau Holle_, where thegood girl is rewarded and the bad punished in a similar way. Perrault's_Toads and Diamonds_ is of the same _genus_. 

LXV. THE THREE WISHES

_Source. _--Steinberg's _Folk-Lore of Northamptonshire_, 1851, butentirely rewritten by Mr. Nutt, who has introduced from other variantsone touch at the close--viz. , the readiness of the wife to allow herhusband to remain disfigured. 

_Parallels. _--Perrault's _Trois Souhaits_ is the same tale, and Mr. Langhas shown in his edition of Perrault (pp. Xlii. -li. ) how widely spreadis the theme throughout the climes and the ages. I do not, however, understand him to grant that they are all derived from one source--thatrepresented in the Indian _Pantschatantra_. In my _Æsop_, i. , 140-1, Ihave pointed out an earlier version in Phædrus where it occurs (as inthe prose versions) as the fable of _Mercury and the two Women_, one ofwhom wishes to see her babe when it has a beard; the other, thateverything she touches which she would find useful in her profession, may follow her. The babe becomes bearded, and the other woman raisingher hand to wipe her eyes finds her nose following herhand--_dénouement_ on which the scene closes. M. Bédier, as usual, denies the Indian origin, _Les Fabliaux_, pp. 177, _seq. _

_Remarks. _--I have endeavoured to show, _l. C. _, that the Phædrine formis ultimately to be derived from India, and there can be little doubtthat all the other variants, which are only variations on one idea, andthat an absurdly incongruous one, were derived from India in the lastresort. The case is strongest for drolls of this kind. 

LXVI. THE BURIED MOON

_Source. _--Mrs. Balfour's "Legends of the Lincolnshire Cars" in_Folk-Lore_, ii. , somewhat abridged and the dialect removed. The storywas derived from a little girl named Bratton, who declared she had heardit from her "grannie. " Mrs. Balfour thinks the girl's own weirdimagination had much to do with framing the details. 

_Remarks. _--The tale is noteworthy as being distinctly mythical incharacter, and yet collected within the last ten years from one of theEnglish peasantry. The conception of the moon as a beneficent being, thenatural enemy of the bogles and other dwellers of the dark, is naturalenough, but scarcely occurs, so far as I recollect, in othermythological systems. There is, at any rate, nothing analogous in theGrimms' treatment of the moon in their _Teutonic Mythology_, tr. Stallybrass, pp. 701-21. 

LXVII. A SON OF ADAM

_Source. _--From memory, by Mr. E. Sidney Hartland, as heard by him fromhis nurse in childhood. 

_Parallels. _--Jacques de Vitry _Exempla_, ed. Prof. Crane, No. Xiii. , and references given in notes, p. 139. It occurs in Swift and in modernItalian folk-lore. 

_Remarks. _--The _Exempla_ were anecdotes, witty and otherwise, used bythe monks in their sermons to season their discourse. Often they musthave been derived from the folk of the period, and at first sight itmight seem that we had found still extant among the folk the story thathad been the original of Jacques de Vitry's _Exemplum_. But thetheological basis of the story shows clearly that it was originally amonkish invention and came thence among the folk. 

LXVIII. THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD

_Source. _--Percy, _Reliques_. The ballad form of the story has becomesuch a nursery classic that I had not the heart to "prose" it. As Mr. Allingham remarks, it is the best of the ballads of the pedestrianorder. 

_Parallels. _--The second of R. Yarrington's _Two Lamentable Tragedies_, 1601, has the same plot as the ballad. Several chap-books have been madeout of it, some of them enumerated by Halliwell's _Popular Histories_(Percy Soc. ) No. 18. From one of these I am in the fortunate position ofgiving the names of the _dramatis personæ_ of this domestic tragedy. Androgus was the wicked uncle, Pisaurus his brother who married Eugenia, and their children in the wood were Cassander and little Kate. Theruffians were appropriately named Rawbones and Woudkill. According to awriter in _3 Notes and Queries_, ix. , 144, the traditional burial-placeof the children is pointed out in Norfolk. The ballad was known beforePercy, as it is mentioned in the _Spectator_, Nos. 80 and 179. 

_Remarks_. --The only "fairy" touch--but what a touch!--the pall ofleaves collected by the robins. 

LXIX. THE HOBYAHS

_Source. _--_American Folk-Lore Journal_, iii. , 173, contributed by Mr. S. V. Proudfit as current in a family deriving from Perth. 

_Remarks. _--But for the assurance of the tale itself that Hobyahs are nomore, Mr. Batten's portraits of them would have convinced me that theywere the bogles or spirits of the comma bacillus. Mr. Proudfit remarksthat the cry "Look me" was very impressive. 

LXX. A POTTLE O' BRAINS

_Source. _--Contributed by Mrs. Balfour to _Folk-Lore_, II. 

_Parallels. _--The fool's wife is clearly related to the Clever Lass of"Gobborn Seer, " where see Notes. 

_Remarks. _--The fool is obviously of the same family as he of the "Coato' Clay" (No. Lix. ) if he is not actually identical with him. Hisadventures might be regarded as a sequel to the former ones. The Noodlefamily is strongly represented in English folk-tales, which would seemto confirm Carlyle's celebrated statistical remark. 

LXXI. THE KING OF ENGLAND

_Source. _--Mr. F. Hindes Groome, _In Gypsy Tents_, told him by JohnRoberts, a Welsh gypsy, with a few slight changes and omission ofpassages insisting upon the gypsy origin of the three helpful brothers. 

_Parallels. _--The king and his three sons are familiar figures inEuropean _märchen_. Slavonic parallels are enumerated by Leskien Brugmanin their _Lithauische Märchen_, notes on No. 11, p. 542. The SleepingBeauty is of course found in Perrault. 

_Remarks. _--The tale is scarcely a good example for Mr. Hindes Groome'scontention (in _Transactions Folk-Lore Congress_) for the diffusion ofall folk-tales by means of gypsies as _colporteurs_. This is merely amatter of evidence, and of evidence there is singularly little, thoughit is indeed curious that one of Campbell's best equipped informantsshould turn out to be a gypsy. Even this fact, however, is not too wellsubstantiated. 

LXXII. KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT

_Source. _--"Prosed" from the well-known ballad in Percy. I have changedthe first query: What am I worth? Answer: Twenty-nine pence--one less, Iween, than the Lord. This would have sounded somewhat bold in prose. 

_Parallels. _--Vincent of Beauvais has the story, but the English versioncomes from the German Joe Miller, Pauli's _Schimpf und Ernst_, No. Lv. , p. 46, ed. Oesterley, where see his notes. The question I have omittedexists there, and cannot have "independently arisen. " Pauli was afifteenth century worthy or unworthy. 

_Remarks. _--Riddles were once on a time serious things to meddle with, as witness Samson and the Sphynx, and other instances duly noted withhis customary erudition by Prof. Child in his comments on the ballad, _English and Scotch Ballads_, i, 403-14. 

LXXIII. RUSHEN COATIE

_Source. _--I have concocted this English, or rather Scotch, Cinderellafrom the various versions given in Miss Cox's remarkable collection of345 variants of _Cinderella_ (Folk-Lore Society, 1892); see _Parallels_for an enumeration of those occurring in the British Isles. I have usedNos. 1-3, 8-10. I give my composite the title "Rushen Coatie, " todifferentiate it from any of the Scotch variants, and for the purposesof a folk-lore experiment. If this book becomes generally used amongEnglish-speaking peoples, it may possibly re-introduce this and othertales among the folk. We should be able to trace this re-introductionby the variation in titles. I have done the same with "Nix NoughtNothing, " "Molly Whuppie, " and "Johnny Gloke. "

_Parallels. _--Miss Cox's volume gives no less than 113 variants of thepure type of Cinderella--her type A. "Cinderella, or the FortunateMarriage of a Despised Scullery-maid by Aid of an _Animal_ God-motherthrough the Test of a Slipper"--such might be the explanatory title of achap-book dealing with the pure type of Cinderella. This is representedin Miss Cox's book, so far as the British Isles are concerned, by noless than seven variants, as follows: (1) Dr. Blind, in _ArchæologicalReview_, iii. , 24-7, "Ashpitell" (from neighbourhood of Glasgow). (2) A. Lang, in _Revue Celtique_, t. Iii. , reprinted in _Folk-Lore_, September, 1890, "Rashin Coatie" (from Morayshire). (3) Mr. Gregor, in _Folk-LoreJournal_, ii. , 72-4 (from Aberdeenshire), "The Red Calf"--all these inLowland Scots. (4) Campbell, _Popular Tales_, No. Xliii. , ii. , 286_seq. _, "The Sharp Grey Sheep. " (5) Mr. Sinclair, in _Celtic Mag. _, xiii. , 454-65, "Snow-white Maiden. " (6) Mr. Macleod's variantcommunicated through Mr. Nutt to Miss Cox's volume, p. 533; and (7)Curtin, _Myths of Ireland_, pp. 78-92. "Fair, Brown, andTrembling"--these four in Gaelic, the last in Erse. To these I would add(8, 9) Chambers's two versions in _Pop. Rhymes of Scotland_, pp. 66-8, "Rashie Coat, " though Miss Cox assimilates them to Type B. Catskin; and(10) a variant of Dr. Blind's version, unknown to Miss Cox, but given in7 _Notes and Queries_, x. , 463 (Dumbartonshire). Mr. Clouston hasremarks on the raven as omen-bird in his notes to Mrs. Saxby's _Birds ofOmen in Shetland_ (privately printed, 1893). 

ENGLISH VARIANTS OF CINDERELLA

GREGOR. LANG. CHAMBERS, I. And II. BLIND. 

Ill-treated Calf given by _Heroine dislikes_ Ill-treated heroine dying mother. _husband. _ heroine (by parents). (by step-mother). 

Helpful Ill-treated _Henwife aid. _ Menial heroine. Animal heroine (by (red calf). Stepmother and sisters). 

Spy on Heroine disguise _Countertasks. _ Helpful animal heroine. (rashin (black sheep). Coatie). 

Slaying of Hearth abode. _Heroine Ear cornucopia. Helpful disguise. _ animal threatened. 

Heroine Helpful animal. _Heroine Spy on heroine. Flight. Flight. _

Heroine Slaying of Menial heroine. Slaying of disguise helpful animal. Helpful animal. (rashin coatie). 

Menial Revivified bones. (Fairy) aid. Old woman advice. Heroine. 

 Help at grave. Revivified bones. 

 Dinner cooked Task performing (by helpful animal. Animal). 

Magic dresses Magic dresses. Magic dresses. Meeting-place (given by (church). Calf). 

Meeting-place Meeting-place Meeting-place Dresses (not (church). (church). (church). Magic). 

Flight. Flight Flight Flight twofold. Threefold. Threefold. 

Lost shoe. Lost shoe. Lost shoe. Lost shoe. 

Shoe marriage Shoe marriage Shoe marriage Shoe marriage test. Test. Test. Test. 

Mutilated foot Mutilated foot. Mutilated foot. Mutilated foot (housewife's daughter). 

Bird witness. False bride. False bride. False bride. 

Happy Bird witness. Bird witness. Bird witness marriage. (raven). 

House for Happy marriage. Happy marriage. Happy marriage. Red calf. 

_Remarks. _--In going over these various versions, the first and perhapsmost striking thing that comes out is the substantial agreement of thevariants in each _language_. The English--_i. E. _, Scotch, variants gotogether; the Gaelic ones agree to differ from the English. I can bestdisplay this important agreement and difference by the accompanying twotables, which give, in parallel columns, Miss Cox's abstracts of hertabulations, in which each incident is shortly given in technicalphraseology. It is practically impossible to use the long tabulationsfor comparative purposes without some such shorthand. 

CELTIC VARIANTS OF CINDERELLA

MACLEOD. CAMPBELL. SINCLAIR. CURTIN. 

Heroine, Ill-treated Ill-treated Ill-treated daughter heroine heroine heroine of sheep, (by stepmother). (by stepmother (by elder king's wife. And sisters). Sisters). 

 Menial heroine. Menial heroine. Menial heroine. 

 Helpful animal. Helpful cantrips. Henwife aid. 

Spy on heroine. Spy on heroine. Magic dresses Magic dresses (+ starlings on (honey-bird shoulders). Finger and stud). 

Eye sleep Eye sleep. Meeting-place Meeting place threefold. (church). (church). 

Slaying of Slaying of Flight twofold. Flight threefold. Helpful helpful animal animal. Mother. 

Revivified Revivified Lost shoe. Lost shoe. Bones. Bones. 

Magic dresses. Step-sister Shoe marriage Shoe marriage substitute. Test. Test. 

 Golden shoe gift Heroine under Mutilated foot. (from hero). Washtub. 

Meeting-place Meeting-place Happy marriage. Happy marriage. (feast). (sermon). 

Flight threefold. Flight Substituted Substituted bride threefold. Bride. (eldest sister). 

Lost shoe Lost shoe. Jonah heroine. Jonah heroine. (golden). 

Shoe marriage Shoe marriage Three Three test. Test. Reappearances. Reappearances. 

Mutilated foot. Mutilated foot. Reunion. Reunion. 

 False bride. Villain Nemesis. 

Bird witness. Bird witness. 

Happy marriage. Happy marriage. 

Now, in the "English" versions there is practical unanimity in theconcluding portions of the tale. _Magic dresses--Meeting-place(Church)--Flight--Lost Shoe--Shoe Marriage-test--Mutilated foot--FalseBride--_Bird witness--Happy Marriage_, follow one another with exemplaryregularity in all four (six) versions. [2] The introductory incidentsvary somewhat. Chambers has evidently a maimed version of theintroduction of Catskin (see No. Lxxxiii. ). The remaining three enableus, however, to restore with some confidence the _Ur-_Cinderella inEnglish somewhat as follows: _Helpful animal given by dyingmother--Ill-treated heroine--Menial heroine--cornucopia--Spy onheroine--Slaying by helpful animal--Tasks--Revivified bones_. I haveattempted in my version to reconstruct the "English" Cinderellaaccording to these formulæ. It will be observed that the helpful animalis helpful in two ways (a) in helping the heroine to perform tasks; (b)in providing her with magic dresses. It is the same with the Grimms'_Aschenputtel_ and other Continental variants. 

Turning to the Celtic variants, these divide into two sets. Campbell'sand Macleod's versions are practically at one with the English formula, the latter with an important variation which will concern us later. Butthe other two, Curtin's and Sinclair's, one collected in Ireland and theother in Scotland, both continue the formula with the conclusion of theSea Maiden tale (on which see the Notes of my _Celtic Fairy Tales_, No. Xvii. ). This is a specifically Celtic formula, and would seem thereforeto claim Cinderella for the Celts. But the welding of the Sea Maidenending on to the Cinderella formula is clearly a later and inartisticjunction, and implies rather imperfect assimilation of the Cinderellaformula. To determine the question of origin we must turn to the purertype given by the other two Celtic versions. 

Campbell's tale can clearly lay no claim to represent the original typeof Cinderella. The golden shoes are a gift of the hero to the heroinewhich destroys the whole point of the _Shoe marriage test_, and cannothave been in the original, wherever it originated. Mr. Macleod'sversion, however, contains an incident which seems to bring us nearer tothe original form than any version contained in Miss Cox's book. Throughout the variants it will be observed what an important functionis played by the helpful animal. This in some of the versions is left asa legacy by the heroine's dying mother. But in Mr. Macleod's version thehelpful animal, a sheep, is the heroine's mother herself! This is indeedan archaic touch, which seems to hark back to primitive times andtotemistic beliefs. And more important still, it is a touch whichvitalises the other variants in which the helpful animal is ratherdragged in by the horns. Mr. Nutt's lucky find at the last moment seemsto throw more light on the origin of the tale than almost the whole ofthe remaining collection. 

But does this find necessarily prove an original Celtic origin forCinderella? Scarcely. It remains to be proved that this introductorypart of the story with helpful animal was necessarily part of theoriginal. Having regard to the feudal character underlying the wholeconception, it remains possible that the earlier part was ingeniouslydovetailed on to the latter from some pre-existing and more archaictale, perhaps that represented by the Grimms' _One Eyed, Two Eyes, andThree Eyes_. The possibility of the introduction of an archaic formulawhich had become a convention of folk-telling cannot be left out ofaccount. 

The "Youngest-best" formula which occurs in Cinderella, and on which Mr. Lang laid much stress in his treatment of the subject in his "Perrault"as a survival of the old tenure of "junior right, " does not throw muchlight on the subject. Mr. Ralston, in the _Nineteenth Century_, 1879, was equally unenlightening with his sun-myths. 

[Footnote 2: Chamber's II. Consists entirely and solely of theseincidents. ]

LXXIV. KING O' CATS

_Source. _--I have taken a point here and a point there from the variousEnglish versions mentioned in the next section. 

I have expanded the names, so as to make a jingle from the Dildrum andDoldrum of Hartland. 

_Parallels. _--Five variants of this quaint legend have been collected inEngland: (1) Halliwell, _Pop. Rhymes_, 167, "Molly Dixon"; (2) _ChoiceNotes--Folk-Lore_, p. 73, "Colman Grey"; (3) _Folk-Lore Journal_, ii. , 22, "King o' the Cats"; (4) _Folk-Lore--England_ (Gibbings), "JohnnyReed's Cat"; (5) Hartland and Wilkinson, _Lancashire Legends_, p. 13, "Dildrum Doldrum. " Sir F. Palgrave gives a Danish parallel; _cf. _Halliwell, _l. C. _

_Remarks. _--An interesting example of the spread and development of asimple anecdote throughout England. Here again we can scarcely imaginemore than a single origin for the tale which is, in its way, as weirdand fantastic as E. A. Poe. 

LXXV. TAMLANE

_Source. _--From Scott's _Minstrelsy_, with touches from the othervariants given by Prof. Child in his _Eng. And Scotch Ballads_, i. , 335-58. 

_Parallels. _--Prof. Child gives no less than nine versions in hismasterly edition, _l. C. _, besides another fragment "Burd Ellen and YoungTamlane, " i. , 258. He parallels the marriage of Peleus and Thetis inApollodorus III. , xiii. , 5, 6, which still persists in modern Greece asa Cretan ballad. 

_Remarks. _--Prof. Child remarks that dipping into water or milk isnecessary before transformation can take place, and gives examples, _l. C. _, 338, to which may be added that of Catskin (see Notes _infra_). He gives as the reason why the Elf-queen would have "ta'en out Tamlane'stwo grey eyne, " so that henceforth he should not be able to see thefairies. Was it not rather that he should not henceforth see BurdJanet?--a subtle touch of jealousy. On dwelling in fairyland Mr. Hartland has a monograph in his _Science of Fairy Tales_, pp. 161-254. 

LXXVI. THE STARS IN THE SKY

_Source. _--Mrs. Balfour's old nurse, now in New Zealand. The original isin broad Scots, which I have anglicised. 

_Parallels. _--The tradition is widespread that at the foot of therainbow treasure is to be found; _cf. _ Mr. John Payne's "Sir Edward'sQuesting" in his _Songs of Life and Death_. 

_Remarks. _--The "sell" at the end is scarcely after the manner of thefolk, and various touches throughout indicate a transmission throughminds tainted with culture and introspection. 

LXXVII. NEWS!

_Source. _--Bell's _Speaker_. 

_Parallels. _--Jacques de Vitry, _Exempla_, ed. Crane, No. Ccv. , aservant being asked the news by his master returned from a pilgrimage toCompostella, says the dog is lame, and goes on to explain: "While thedog was running near the mule, the mule kicked him and broke his ownhalter and ran through the house, scattering the fire with his hoofs, and burning down your house with your wife. " It occurs even earlier inAlfonsi's _Disciplina Clericalis_, No. Xxx. , at beginning of the twelfthcentury, among the _Fabliaux_, and in Bebel, _Werke_, iii. , 71, whenceprobably it was reintroduced into England. See Prof. Crane's note _adloc. _

_Remarks. _--Almost all Alfonsi's _exempla_ are from the East. It ischaracteristic that the German version finishes up with a loss ofhonour, the English climax being loss of fortune. 

LXXVIII. PUDDOCK, MOUSIE, AND RATTON

_Source. _--Kirkpatrick Sharpe's _Ballad Book_, 1824, slightlyanglicised. 

_Parallels. _--Mr. Bullen, in his _Lyrics from Elizabethan Song Books_, p. 202, gives a version, "The Marriage of the Frog and the Mouse, " fromT. Ravenscroft's _Melismata_, 1611. The nursery rhyme of the frog whowould a-wooing go is clearly a variant of this, and has thus a surepedigree of three hundred years; _cf. _ "Frog husband" in my List ofIncidents, or notes to "The Well of the World's End" (No. Xli. ). 

LXXIX. LITTLE BULL-CALF

_Source. _--_Gypsy Lore Journal_, iii. , one of a number of tales told "Ina Tent" to Mr. John Sampson. I have respelt and euphemised the bladder. 

_Parallels. _--The Perseus and Andromeda incident is frequent infolk-tales; see my List of Incidents _sub voce_ "Fight with Dragon. ""Cheese squeezing, " as a test of prowess, is also common, as in "Jackthe Giant Killer" and elsewhere (Köhler, _Jahrbuch_, vii. , 252). 

LXXX. THE WEE WEE MANNIE

_Source. _--From Mrs. Balfour's old nurse. I have again anglicised. 

_Parallels. _--This is one of the class of accumulative stories like _TheOld Woman and her Pig_ (No. Iv. ). The class is well represented in theseisles. 

LXXXI. HABETROT AND SCANTLIE MAB

_Source. _--Henderson's _Folk-Lore of Northern Counties_, pp. 258-62 ofFolk-Lore Society's edition. I have abridged and to some extentrewritten. 

_Parallels. _--This in its early part is a parallel to the _Tom Tit Tot_, which see. The latter part is more novel, and is best compared with theGrimms' _Spinners_. 

_Remark. _--Henderson makes out of Habetrot a goddess of thespinning-wheel, but with very little authority as it seems to me. 

LXXXII. OLD MOTHER WIGGLE WAGGLE

_Source. _--I have inserted into Halliwell's version one current in Mr. Batten's family, except that I have substituted "Wiggle-Waggle" for"Slipper-Slopper. " The two versions supplement one another. 

_Remarks. _--This is a pure bit of animal satire, which might have comefrom a rural Jefferies with somewhat more of wit than the native writer. 

LXXXIII. CATSKIN

_Source. _--From the chap-book reprinted in Halliwell I have introducedthe demand for magic dresses from Chambers's _Rashie Coat_, into whichit had clearly been interpolated from some version of Catskin. 

_Parallels. _--Miss Cox's admirable volume of variants of _Cinderella_also contains seventy-three variants of _Catskin_, besides thirteen"indeterminate" ones which approximate to that type. Of theseeighty-six, five exist in the British Isles, two chap-books given inHalliwell and in Dixon's _Songs of English Peasantry_, two by Campbell, Nos. Xiv. And xiv_a_, "The King who Wished to Marry his Daughter, " andone by Kennedy's _Fireside Stories_, "The Princess in the Catskins. "Goldsmith knew the story by the name of "Catskin, " as he refers to it inthe _Vicar_. There is a fragment from Cornwall in _Folk-Lore_, i. , App. P. 149. 

_Remarks. _--_Catskin, or the Wandering Gentlewomen_, now exists inEnglish only in two chap-book ballads. But Chambers's first variant of_Rashie Coat_ begins with the Catskin formula in a euphemised form. Thefull formula may be said to run in abbreviated form--_Death-bedpromise--Deceased wife's resemblance marriage test--Unnatural father_(desiring to marry his own daughter)--_Helpful animal--Countertasks--Magic dresses--Heroine flight--Heroine disguise--Menialheroine--Meeting-place--Token objects named--Threefold flight--Lovesickprince--Recognition ring--Happy marriage_. Of these the chap-bookversions contain scarcely anything of the opening _motifs_. Yet theyexisted in England, for Miss Isabella Barclay, in a variant which MissCox has overlooked (_Folk-Lore_, i. , _l. C. _), remembers having heard theUnnatural Father incident from a Cornish servant-girl. Campbell's twoversions also contain the incident, from which one of them receives itsname. One wonders in what form Mr. Burchell knew Catskin, for "he gavethe [Primrose] children the Buck of Beverland, [3] with the history ofPatient Grissel, the adventures of Catskin and the Fair Rosamond'sBower" (_Vicar of Wakefield_, 1766, c. Vi. ). Pity that "Goldy" did nottell the story himself, as he had probably heard it in Ireland, whereKennedy gives a poor version in his _Fireside Stories_. 

Yet, imperfect as the chap-book versions are, they yet retain not a fewarchaic touches. It is clear from them, at any rate, that the Heroinewas at one time transformed into a Cat. For when the basin of water isthrown in her face she "shakes her ears" just as a cat would. Again, before putting on her magic dresses she bathes in a pellucid pool. Now, Professor Child has pointed out in his notes on Tamlane and elsewhere(_English and Scotch Ballads_, i. , 338; ii. , 505; iii. , 505) thatdipping into water or milk is necessary before transformation can takeplace. It is clear, therefore, that Catskin was originally transformedinto an animal by the spirit of her mother, also transformed into ananimal. 

If I understand Mr. Nutt rightly (_Folk-Lore_, iv, 135, _seq. _), he isinclined to think, from the evidence of the hero-tales which have theunsavoury _motif_ of the Unnatural Father, that the original home of thestory was England, where most of the hero-tales locate the incident. Iwould merely remark on this that there are only very slight traces ofthe story in these islands nowadays, while it abounds in Italy, whichpossesses one almost perfect version of the formula (Miss Cox, No. 142, from Sardinia). 

Mr. Newell, on the other hand (_American Folk-Lore Journal_, ii. , 160), considers Catskin the earliest of the three types contained in MissCox's book, and considers that Cinderella was derived from this as asoftening of the original. His chief reason appears to be the earlierappearance of Catskin in Straparola, [4] 1550, a hundred years earlierthan Cinderella in Basile, 1636. This appears to be a somewhatinsufficient basis for such a conclusion. Nor is there, after all, soclose a relation between the two types in their full development as tonecessitate the derivation of one from the other. 

[Footnote 3: Who knows the Buck of Beverland nowadays?]

[Footnote 4: It is practically in Des Perier's _Récréations_, 1544. ]

LXXXIV. STUPID'S CRIES

_Source. _--_Folk-Lore Record_, iii. , 152-5, by the veteran Prof. Stephens. I have changed "dog and bitch" of original to "dog and cat, "and euphemised the liver and lights. 

_Parallels. _--Prof. Stephens gives parallels from Denmark. Germany (theGrimms' _Up Riesensohn_) and Ireland (Kennedy, _Fireside Stories_, p. 30). 

LXXXV. THE LAMBTON WORM

_Source. _--Henderson's _Folk-Lore of Northern Counties_, pp. 287-9, Ihave rewritten, as the original was rather high falutin'. 

_Parallels. _--Worms or dragons form the subject of the whole of theeighth chapter of Henderson. "The Laidly Worm of Spindleston Heugh" (No. Xxxiii. ) also requires the milk of nine kye for its daily rations, andcow's milk is the ordinary provender of such kittle cattle (Grimms'_Teut. Myth. _ 687), the mythological explanation being that cows = theclouds and the dragon = the storm. Jephtha vows are also frequent infolk-tales: Miss Cox gives many examples in her _Cinderella_, p. 511. 

_Remarks. _--Nine generations back from the last of the Lambtons, HenryLambton, M. P. , ob. 1761, reaches Sir John Lambton, Knight of Rhodes, andseveral instances of violent death occur in the interim. Dragons arepossibly survivals into historic times of antedeluvian monsters, orreminiscences of classical legend (Perseus, etc. ). Who shall say whichis which, as Mr. Lang would observe. 

LXXXVI. WISE MEN OF GOTHAM

_Source. _--The chap-book contained in Mr. Hazlitt's _Shaksperian JestBook_, vol. Iii. I have selected the incidents and modernised thespelling; otherwise the droll remains as it was told in Elizabethantimes. 

_Parallels. _--Mr. Clouston's _Book of Noodles_ is little else than aseries of parallels to our droll. See my List of Incidents under thetitles, "One cheese after another, " "Hare postman, " "Not counting self, ""Drowning eels. " In most cases Mr. Clouston quotes Eastern analogies. 

_Remarks. _--All countries have their special crop of fools, Boeotiansamong the Greeks, the people of Hums among the Persians (howappropriate!), the Schildburgers in Germany, and so on. Gotham is theEnglish representative, and as witticisms call to mind well-known wits, so Gotham has had heaped on its head all the stupidities of theIndo-European world. For there can be little doubt that these drollshave spread from East to West. This "Not counting self" is in the_Gooroo Paramastan_, the cheeses "one after another" in M. Rivière'scollection of Kabyle tales, and so on. It is indeed curious how littleoriginality there is among mankind in the matter of stupidity. Even suchan inventive genius as the late Mr. Sothern had considerable difficultyin inventing a new "sell. "

LXXXVII. PRINCESS OF CANTERBURY

_Source. _--I have inserted into the old chap-book version of the _FourKings of Colchester, Canterbury_, &c. , an incident entitled by Halliwell"The Three Questions. "

_Parallels. _--The "riddle bride wager" is a frequent incident offolk-tales (see my List of Incidents); the sleeping tabu of the latterpart is not so common, though it occurs, _e. G. _, in the Grimms' _TwelvePrincesses_, who wear out their shoes with dancing.